Do I have to tell you that parenting is not for wimps? Of course not. You know this already. Everybody knows that. You learn this from the moment you begin to express in public your desire to have children. Everyone and his dog will tell you how having children is the easy part, it’s raising them that tests your mettle. Somehow, the instinct and desire to procreate tunes out the part that warns of the boatloads of patience and consistency that you’ll need. THAT YOU MIGHT NOT HAVE. Somehow, you BELIEVE people when they say “Watching them sleep at night makes all those struggles during the day worthwhile.” Somehow, you think that once you’ve cleared the baby years and the toddler years and the pre-school years and those pre pre-teen years, that you’re home free, piece of cake. Somehow, you think that the diapers, the nursing, the trying-to-figure-out-what-that-crying-means, the YEARS OF NOT SLEEPING, are things of the past once your children enter their pre-teen years.
WRONG! WRONG! WRONG! Diapers are replaced with you constantly reminding them of the importance of DAILY bathing, the challenges of nursing are replaced with the challenges of how to get nutrition into their bodies without actually resorting to something resembling a torture chair, and what used to be called the Name That Cry game has now been expanded to Name That Attitude/Whine/Mood Swing game, Version 6.8. The only thing that remains consistent are the years of not sleeping…..they sleep, but you, on the other hand, cannot for the life of you teach your body to unlearn sleeplessness.
Now, close your eyes and imagine yourself trying to do your parenting thing, with all its faults and inconsistencies, all its mistakes and failures, on your own, without a partner to support you. That’s one challenge many of us face. Now, close your eyes again, and imagine yourself finding the love of your life, bringing that person into your family circle, and trying to do your parenting thing, your faulty, inconsistent, failing parenting thing in full view of your new spouse. You would think that having someone by your side would make things better. And it does, truly nothing can beat having someone who loves you in your corner.
But I didn’t think it all the way through, you see. I was looking at all the benefits and the positive impact on myself that having my new husband in our lives would make. And those benefits really do outweigh the struggles, just as the little moments spent with my kids that make my heart swell with love for them outweigh the maddening moments when I bite my tongue from wondering out loud “Who ARE these children, and please take them back!”.
What surprised me, and you can go ahead and call me naive because you’d be right, was how I did not anticipate that when things sometimes get chaotic in our family, and I’m called upon once again to mediate, to lead by example, to lovingly and patiently correct behaviour when all I wish for is a mute button, I feel like the parenting spotlight is shining on me even brighter. I see all of my shortcomings, all of my flaws are highlighted and magnified for the love of my life to see.
It’s embarrassing. I am so not ready for that close-up. Thankfully, I’m slowly learning that Mr. C. wears glasses coloured with love and understanding.
Becoming a blended family is a delicate dance. The adults in the relationship need to have a very strong attachment to each other, because their committment and love for each other forms the core around which they ALL dance. It’s like a maypole, festooned with ribbons, and each person holds a ribbon in their hands, dancing around. When the pole to which the ribbons are attached is strong and supportive, the dance will continue on, even if the ribbons get tangled and some dancers miss a few steps; in its consistency, strength and unwavering support, the pole (like the couple’s love) gives each dancer what they need to continue. Support. Forgiveness. Love. Understanding.
Since Mr. C’s arrival in our family, he & I have had to be patient as our love for each other reveals itself to be a strong core for our family. I marvel at my husband’s inner fortitude, and his ability to continually give me his support and optimism, in spite of seeing me at my weakest mother-moments. Mr. C, in all of his imperfectness, is perfect for me, especially for the Mom-me (ok, he’s perfect for the womanly-woman-me, and the creative-woman-me, and the spiritual-woman-me…..heck, he’s just so perfect for me, but you get what I mean). So what does Mayberry have to do with all of this? I’m glad you asked.
My husband is a movie-buff, especially old black-and-whites. When he arrived, he brought boxes of DVDs, filled with movies and TV shows. Sometimes the kids will ask to root through the boxes, but their attraction to and appreciation for old black-and-whites are not as developed yet. But one day, Mr. C. took out a boxed set of the Andy Griffith Show. He had been home with P, who was sick, and they watched an episode or two together. That night, P told his sister about Opie and the gang, and so we sat down on Sunday evening to watch the first DVD. I had heard of the Andy Griffith Show, of course, from my parents and sisters, but I had never watched it on TV. But it had been a week of high tension in the household, and although I was very skeptical that my 12-year-old daughter would sit through an episode without rolling her eyes or casting criticism, I was looking forward to all of us watching something different.
Kids will surprise you.
Mr. C. & I kept looking at each other over the kids heads, and smiling in that ”Ah-Ha we’re on to something!” way, as the kids laughed and enjoyed one episode after another. To our amazement, the kids loved it. Heck, I loved it! Whatever it is about that TV series, it works. The more we watch it together as a family, the more we laugh at their corny jokes, the more we wonder what life was like when haircuts were 25 cents, the more we talk afterwards about the morals of the stories. I know it’s scripted and all that, but sometimes seeing someone else dealing with issues in a way that’s respectful of others helps me in my own life.
We now have regular screenings of the Andy Griffith Show (we may have to buy the next boxed set, Mr. C.), it’s something we all look forward to watching together; no one’s drifting off in the middle of the show to do something else, and I still get a charge out of hearing the kids or Mr. C. laugh at Barney Fife’s antics. Since Mayberry has come into our living room, the tangled ribbons of our maypole have untangled somewhat, giving us the much-needed breathing room to once again be able to offer each other support and love. It’s not a TV show from the 60s that can miraculously erase all the hurts, but for us, it was a small bridge that we crossed together, to reach a new place to continue our blended-family dance.
I’ve been working on this post for awhile now, and it’s fitting that I’m done writing it today, because today is Mr. C’s birthday……in all that he does for us, with all of the right things that he instinctively knows to say at the right time to make us all feel like we are shining stars, in all the little ways that he lightens my load, I’m convinced that HE is a gift to the kids and I. During one episode of the Andy Griffith Show, Opie asks Andy: “Is there anything I can do for YOU, Paw?” To which my son turned to me and said: ” Hey! That’s what Mr. C. says to you EVERY day!”
Happy birthday, Sweetie…..
Love,
Chantal xoxoxoxoxo
