Connecting With our “Best Parent Selves” and With our Parenting Collectives

I remember so clearly leaving the hospital with my first, newborn daughter. She was so tiny, so vulnerable, and seemingly so fragile. It seemed like every decision I made could have catastrophic effects. I remember bursting into tears on the way home and asking my husband, "What if I can't keep her alive?"

The fear is real. We new parents leave the support of the hospital with all kinds of thoughts swirling around in our exhausted little heads. Not only are we hearing our own thoughts and fears, but we are also absorbing all of the well-meaning, but often misguided, opinions and advice coming at us from all angles--family members, doctors, nurses, lactation consultants, books and other resources, friends, and anyone else who feels a need to chime in.

Much of what we hear is reassuring and helpful. Some of it is not and in fact some of it is the opposite. Much of it actually applies to us, some of it applies only to those giving the advice. Much of it is conflicting, someone tells you to do it one way, someone else tells you to do it another. It can quickly become confusing, and stressful because as parents we fear that anything and everything we do is sure to have horrible consequences, if not now then later in life.

So I will share here some unsolicited advice I shared with my niece right after she gave birth to her first child. I wrote in a text: "So here's what you need to know...I promise you will be able to keep him alive. Quiet your mind and all of the voices around you and listen to your instincts because you know more than you think you do. You have an amazing support network of moms and women who get it so make sure you let us help and support you. And you are an amazing mother! Oh, and you'll be able to sleep again in something like 20 years."

I share this both because my mother in law loved it, which made me feel good, and because as I read it now I see it applies not just to brand new moms but to all of us.

We do somehow manage to keep our kids alive, barring any unforeseen crises or tragedies. If anyone here has experienced one I feel your pain in my soul and offer my deepest compassion and support.

Now that my two are 6 and almost 8 I worry far more that they may kill each other, or maybe me, than I do that I won't keep them alive. Irony.

I also worry that they will suffer, that they will struggle. Today’s statistics are alarming—it is estimated that one in 3 kids will be diagnosed with an anxiety disorder. Considering that is just kids formally diagnosed with just one kind of problem, that is an absolutely terrifying estimation.

My kids have already had struggles, even in their young little lives. Of course they have. It’s actually quite delusional to believe that we parents can somehow prevent our kids from suffering, from struggle. Yet we do, and we work hard to try to prevent or “fix” their struggles. But we can’t, and they struggle. So I worry. My mind is often very busy with worries, as is the case with most parents. And of course, that affects my parenting, not necessarily in positive ways.

We are truly best served by quieting our minds because "from the silence all things arise," as my yoga instructor once told us during class. Once we can quiet our minds and filter out the worry about the future, the fear we won’t “get it right,” the knee-jerk emotional reactions that often pop up once our minds get going, and/or the unhelpful advice that either doesn't resonate for us or doesn't really seem to apply to us, we can connect with ourselves. We can connect with our own instincts, with our inner calm, with our center. We can be more present with what is actually going on rather than with what our minds are telling us might happen in the future.

As important as quieting our minds and finding presence is also finding our “tribe,” our “village.” We really do have a network of women and moms who understand us both as women and as moms. Our problem isn’t that the network doesn’t exist, our problem is that we don't allow ourselves to connect with and rely on it. We take on too much and don't ask for help and support from our parenting collective. We truly are here for each other, let's develop and nurture that, and let's make sure we use it when we need it.

I believe fathers have something like this for themselves, it just looks different from the female version, but is no less important. Dads rely on those cycling events and ski trips, those fishing trips, the sporting events and games to watch, the poker nights. You also need the support of the male collective.

We all have great parents inside of us. Some days, these are the parents that show up to be with and guide our children. Some days these parents remain hidden while our more primitive versions of ourselves run the show. Regardless, every one of us is doing our best with what we have at any given moment. We can choose to believe this even while we also see the ways in which we can do better. So even when we appear to be at our worst, let us remember how fiercely we love our children and how hard we are trying.

Let's allow ourselves to truly believe that we don't need to be “perfect” to be great parents. What we do need, rather, is evolution and growth. In reality, we already are “perfect” if we are evolving and growing, because everything that is happening is leading us somewhere better. Quieting the voices both inside and outside and finding our supportive collective helps us evolve perfectly and leads us to this better place, one step at a time.

We become our “best parent selves” one step at a time. Join us at Roots First and let’s take this journey together.






ParentsJulie Schneider