I have begun to devour anything that has the word “mommy” wrapped into it. Books, magazines, online web sites, emails.. anything that speaks about the new label I’ll soon be slapping onto my forehead. I am trying to absorb as much as I can from every source I can get my hands on.
I learn interesting things this way.
Being a mom gives you cred, for example. My purple hair will become less strange when I am clutching the sticky hand of a toddler – it will prove I am responsible and that I, most likely, don’t spend my evenings punching holes in my various body parts with a sharp stick. Unless my child has a runny nose or a dirty t-shirt on – then, all bets are off.
The parenting books are all over the place – advising about how to be a zen mommy or a structured mommy. It reminds me of all the other how-to books I’ve read in my life. It’s all a matter of choosing the right books to suit what you already know about yourself.
If you’re a messy person who hates to dress up, you need to pick up the book that talks about being a relaxed parent who doesn’t yell about koolaid stains on the hand towels. Don’t bother with the “having it all” books – they’ll just make you feel like a failure. Like that time you read the “How to Get Ahead At the Office” book and realized you not only hated your job, but that you were likely to hate every other job on earth, too.
This isn’t advice just for mommies, by the way.
I have learned that everyone has an opinion – and, especially, that everyone has an opinion about what kind of a parent you will be, based on that one time you smoked pot, stuck licorice up your nose like a walrus and then laughed yourself mute. Or the fact that you prefer to eat Marshmallow Peeps for breakfast sometimes.
Hypothetically speaking, I mean.
I have learned that parents like to share their knowledge – hard earned as it may be – and that it’s okay to ask questions that seem ridiculous, just because you want a second opinion or someone to confirm your thoughts. Other parents want to tell you what they’ve learned.
Remember, though, that those parents have opinions of their own. And they are only offering advice – not gospel.
I am learning that I could not survive pregnancy, were we to go that route, without a heavy dose of sedatives, anti-anxiety meds and, perhaps, some of the aforementioned pot smoking. And a straightjacket. I do not have the disposition required to stay calm about things like “fetal growth rates” when it pertains to a little creature in my belly.
Having said that, there are people who find our adoption to be far scarier than pregnancy and childbirth. This makes me laugh – I am not requiring sedatives, anti-anxiety meds or pot smoking to wade through this process. It seems very much ‘right’ and ‘normal’ and ‘just fine’ to be doing this. No matter how many adoption-related horror-stories I hear, I am unphased.
I am feeling somewhat sad, however, that I will never get the chance to blame my stretch marks on someone else. Except maybe Cadbury or Hershey. I do not get to use the phrase “eating for two” except in jest.
WNET had a brief conversation about baby showers recently and I commented that since we were not adopting a baby, we would not be having a shower. Our child will not require a “diaper genie” or a carrying sling or tiny onesies – and we are pleased by this. But I felt sad, for a bit, that we won’t have the celebration that’s tied to a child’s arrival.
Robyn commented that a “welcome home” party would be acceptable, however, and it made me ponder the idea. We’ve been instructed not to overwhelm the child with too many new people, too many introductions, too many festivities when they first arrive. But, at the same time, this child will not have a large extended family in the sense that many children do.
We want to teach our child that we are not alone in this world simply because we do not have parents or grandparents around. We have so many friends who love us – and who will love our child – and a family that you make for yourself can be better, sometimes, than the one you may have been born into.
And so we’ve talked about gifting the child with books – everyone’s favourite stories, with an inscription on the inside cover – to be read before bed, in the bath, before naps, in the car.. I love this idea.
Like any new undertaking, I want to learn everything I can before this child arrives – and I know that’s impossible. I will learn from the adoption training, of course, and I am learning from friends now. I am learning from books and magazines and online web sites. Mostly, I suspect, I will learn from trial and error – or trial by fire? – because, like there are no two mothers exactly the same, no two children are either.
And somewhere, deep inside, I suspect I already know how to do the important things. Love, affection, feeding of healthy non-Peep foods. And to keep learning. I can do that, too.
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