It’s OK To Be A Good Parent

(Inspired by Rebecca’s post, Good Parent. I admit this went a little off subject, but the kernel of truth is still there.)

Like most high schools, it was considered very uncool to be smart. I was a straight A nerd, trying so hard to fit in with my peers like everyone around me. So I lied about my grades. “Wasn’t that math test hard? Yeah, I thought I bombed it, but I got a low C. Just enough to get by, right?” (In reality, I aced it.)

If you had listened to me talk to my friends, you’d have thought I was really struggling in school, just like them. I sighed about how mean it was to force us to read Crime & Punishment (a favorite of mine) in English class, and when asked by another student how to balance a chemistry equation, I’d look at them slack jawed and say, “I have no idea. I’m awful at Chemistry! What will we ever need to know this for?”

It was the “in” thing to do.

It seems that having the appearance of being an underachiever is often the way to go in our society, and this even applies to parenting. Read through 100 parenting blogs, and witness how 99 of them will make some self-depreciating joke about what a bad parent they are. No one wants to brag, no one wants to hold themselves up to a higher standard for fear of being knocked down the one time they do admit to doing something wrong. It’s far easier to roll your eyes, laugh and proclaim yourself to be a near-failure at the job rather than subject yourself to the criticism that could follow if you dare call yourself a good parent. Because saying you’re a good parent somehow might imply that you think others aren’t as good.

But let’s be honest: most of us are good parents. In fact, I’d bet most of us are pretty damn awesome parents much of the time.

Parents today are held to much higher standards than they were in years past. Whereas parenting was just a part of daily life in our parents and grandparents time, it is now a competitive sport and professional occupation (without respect and benefits, of course) all rolled into one.

Now we have exhaustive checklists, measurements and standards to hold ourselves accountable for, with invisible grades assigned to us based on how well our child is reaching each milestone. If my daughter walks late, it’s because I wasn’t doing enough to encourage her. If she doesn’t know her colors by two years old, it’s my fault for not taking her to more Gymboree classes or buying her fancy flashcards to practice with. If she doesn’t graduate at the top of her class in high school, I’ll know it was because I didn’t sacrifice enough to give up working and stay home, spending all of my time focused on her development while also cooking nutritious organic and hormone-free food to give her the best chance of optimum brain development.

Seriously? We’ve gone off the deep end, folks.

My grandmother often tells me about her upbringing. She was born into a poor farm family. She said that as an infant, she was left on the bed most of the day by herself, with her older siblings occasionally checking to make sure she hadn’t rolled off onto the floor. Her mother later told her, “It’s a good thing you were a quiet baby and kept to yourself on the bed all day. Your brothers wouldn’t have been happy if they had to entertain you.” Her mother didn’t have time for developmental games and enrichment activities – she had a farm to run. As my grandmother grew older, much of her time was spent finding her own entertainment, and learning as she went.

My mother was also raised on a farm, and her early childhood was often spent in the fields. She’d wander off into the fields or woods with no one watching her except the family dog. But her parents were busy, and they knew the collie would keep an eye on her.

I would consider both of these women to be intelligent and caring people who clearly didn’t suffer as a result of having no access to a LeapFrog phonics bus and Baby Einstein. And I know I didn’t have those things, either, and yet somehow graduated from college with honors.

So why are the parents of this generation so hard on ourselves? Why are we holding ourselves up to impossible standards in secret, while we jokingly admit our failures in public? And are we really failures?

Truthfully, it’s hard to consider a parent a failure. Unless you’re abusing your child, starving your child, or willfully neglecting your child in a way that places them in danger, you’re probably doing OK. And if you’re not doing any of those things, but are doing what you can to make sure your child is loved and feels safe, putting their needs above your wants (notice the particular placement of “needs” and “wants”), then you’re probably a good parent.

Few can live up to the new standards of parenting. It isn’t healthy, and it isn’t practical for many. In fact, I’d argue that these new standards are doing nothing more than putting unnecessary stress on moms and dads. Some say it causes the “child-centered” family, which puts strain on a marriage and gives kids an overinflated sense of self. I don’t know if that’s true, but I know that I can admit that when it comes to the new standards, I’m not a straight A student.

Yes, my toddler eats fast food at least once a week. Shocking, right? But we’re a very busy family, and we don’t always have time to be at home and cook a healthy meal. And I can counter the fast food with the Good Parent fact that she’s never had candy in her life.

Cordy also watches a lot of TV. Hours a day, in fact. But before you accuse me of rotting her brain with commercials and violence and sex, know that she only watches Noggin and Playhouse Disney – nothing else, period. Thanks to Moose A. Moose, she knows her shapes, colors, and numbers, which I help to reinforce when I can.

In other words, I am a good mom, despite what the media and experts and social scientists and sanctimommies might say. My daughter’s needs are met, her wants are met within reason, she is happy and healthy, and I do my best to encourage her in her development. I’m in no way perfect, but I also know there’s no such thing as a perfect parent. Who cares if Cordy isn’t using the potty yet? I highly doubt she’ll be going to college in diapers.

I refuse to let my entire self-worth be based on my evaluation as a parent, mostly because I don’t believe there is such a thing as an accurate evaluation. Parenting is not black and white: between “good” and “bad” there is an enormous spectrum of grey. And so it is important that we moms and dads relax a little, let go of our need to downplay our successes in public, while at the same time stop flogging ourselves in private because we can’t live up to some imaginary set of standards that are completely unreachable. Take off the hairshirt, people. Most of us are good parents – let’s admit it and not be ashamed to look at our successes.

My daughter wakes up every day and wants nothing more than to hug me in the morning. She goes to bed with more hugs and says, “I love you.” She is full of happiness, content with all she has. Her intelligence and curiosity are far-reaching, and there’s a passion in everything she does, including her tantrums. She is loved and well cared for.

I’m a good mom.