Five Habits of Mostly Successful Parents

I had to add the "mostly" qualifier to the title of this blog because my parenting skills are always a work in progress. Another caveat: I know nothing about parenting older kids; I'll figure that out when I get there.

However, I've learned a few useful tricks over the past three years, so I'd like to pass them on.

1. Bring lots of snacks—at least twice as many as you think you'll actually need. It doesn't matter if you're going out for five minutes or five hours, snacks are essential. And if you have more than one child, make sure that you bring enough of everything for everyone. I have a three-year-old and an 11-month-old, but when I whip out the Baby Mum-Mums, the three-year-old instantly wants one just because the baby has one. And vice versa.

2. Keep an extra set of clothes, diapers and wipes in the car, and replace them as you use them. Because it's a given that your baby will spit up mere moments after you've dressed her up in an adorable outfit for your cousin's wedding, or she'll have one of those right-up-the-back poos in her car seat—when you realize that you used the last diaper in the diaper bag yesterday. You can never have too many baby wipes. Never.

3. Teach your kids to go to sleep anywhere. We did a better job of this with our first than with our second—probably because it's easier to go out when you have only one child. Our first was quite comfortable sleeping in a stroller, in a playpen or, later, in the guest bedroom at someone else's house. A transitional object, such as a teddy bear or a blanket, can be helpful. We also have a Sleep Sheep and a Mellow Monkey (toys that make white noise sounds) to help drown out unfamiliar noises or party chatter. Getting your kids used to sleeping elsewhere gives you the freedom to stay out past 8 p.m., so in my view, it's worth the time and effort.

4. Divide and conquer. Particularly when you have more than one child, appropriate division of parental duties is a must. For example, working together to get everyone dressed, fed and out the door in the morning makes it actually achievable. In our case, this means that one parent gets to force a squirming, protesting baby into clothes while the other handles a preschooler's tantrum over not wanting to wear shoes. Doesn't that sound like a great deal?

5. Separate the annoying from the truly bad. Whenever I'm tempted to yell at my kids—which, I admit, is pretty often—I try to take a moment to say to myself, "Is this really a problem, or does it just bug me?" For example: when the baby smears banana into her hair minutes after I've bathed her, or the preschooler spills her milk for the second time, after I've just refilled her glass and reminded her once again to watch out for it. It's easy to get frustrated by the mess when you've been cleaning up after children all day, but it's a matter of picking your battles. If the baby takes out the entire contents of the pantry and dumps everything on the floor, is this really a problem? Or is the real issue that she's now chewing on the power cord for my laptop? I figure this skill will serve me well during these early years...and probably during their teenage years as well. 

Any good tips or strategies that work for you? I'd love to add to this list. After all, I still have many parenting years to go.

A Letter to My Mother

Dear Mom,

I can't believe it's been more than a year since you passed away. But then, sometimes I still can't believe you're not here anymore. You've been on my mind recently, so I wanted to let you know about some of the things you're missing out on.  

I wish you could see how the girls have grown—one of whom you were never even able to meet. It's such a shame you never got that chance...you would have adored her. She is so easily loveable, with her chubby little thighs and her bright, two-tooth smile. At almost a year old, she's talking away in a language that only she can understand, pointing at objects, standing and cruising. She's so close to walking, but she hasn't yet found the courage to let go. Even so, she's constantly getting into mischief and is so curious about the world around her. Although I'm ready to go back to work, that separation is going to be hard...she's a real mama's girl.

And C is three now, if you can believe it. Smart as a whip, independent and full of energy, she's definitely your grandchild. She can be willful and hard to manage sometimes, but she's also hilarious. The other day, she said to me, "Mommy, I love your eyeballs." You would have been so entertained by her creativity and imagination, the songs and stories she comes up with. Next year, she'll be going to school. I look at photos of her as a newborn and I barely recognize her, she's changed so much.

I have to be honest: I'm still mad that things didn't turn out as I had planned. Moving to Oakville was supposed to mean that we would go over to your place for Sunday dinners. You and Dad were supposed to lounge around our pool with us this summer and take the girls to the park. You were supposed to call me about the bargains you'd found at Winners and give me parenting advice that I would roll my eyes at but secretly appreciate.

Instead, there's an absence in our lives: an empty place at the table for Christmas dinner; a picture in C's photo album that she doesn't remember; a card I had no one to send to on Mother's Day. Although we work around it, I suspect that absence will always be there.

Anyway, I just wanted to let you know that I'm thinking of you. Sometimes I wonder what you would think of the life and family I've been building. It's not perfect—I'm not perfect—but I hope you'd be proud of it, and of me.
 
And I wish you were here.