As the mother of four kids - all nearly grown now - I am often asked for advice from new parents. Everything from how do I get them to sleep through the night to when is the right time to start potty-training to what age does grounding lose meaning has been brought up. I am considered an expert, I think, simply because all of my children survived childhood relatively in-tact, and I haven't gone completely insane in the process. It was hard going, to be sure, and I am proud of how all of my kids turned out. And yes, along the way, I picked up some really good parenting tips that I occasionally share. The best advice I can give, though, is that advice is worthless.
My first child was a set of twin boys. Talk about a parental boot camp! Not only did none of the advice written in the most popular books apply to us, it was pure nonsense when dealing with multiples. I don't know how often I laughed at statements like, "Let your child dictate his own schedule. It will make both you and he happier and healthier." I'm sure that could work with one baby, but with two it would have caused apoplexy. The only way I ever got a meal or more than three minutes of sleep in a row was because I put both boys on the same schedule and stuck to it fairly rigidly. My days were structured around mealtimes, naptimes, and bedtimes, and we were all much happier and healthier because of it. While useful advice for some, it just didn't apply to our family.
Then, nineteen months later, my third son arrived just as we'd planned him. (Yes, I'm a glutton for punishment.) A very large bundle at 9 pounds 4 ounces, he was nonetheless very sick when he was born. He spent his first eight days in NICU fighting a nasty bout of bacterial meningitis. I spent those days recovering from his delivery and reading the parenting magazines all NICUs seem to have in abundance. One article in particular sticks with me. It was on how to introduce new siblings into the household. I was to bring the new baby home, let the boys see him, touch him, and spend time with him so that they would see him not as a rival, but as a new friend. It would also help if the new baby "bought" the boys some toy and "gave" it to them. The problem for us, of course, was that this new baby would be covered in tubes and bandages from his antibiotic treatments. And how was I supposed to find the time and the energy to buy gifts for the boys when I'd yet to figure out how to wash my hair during that week? By the time we brought the little guy home, I just wanted to collapse into my bed. I'm sure the child-psychologist who wrote the article meant well, but it just wasn't going to happen. Instead, we fumbled through the first meeting, gave lots of hugs and kisses, and hoped for the best. (To date, the elder two boys haven't scarred the younger one irrevocably, so far as I know.)
By the time my daughter came into the picture three and a half years later, I'd had more than my share of helpful advice. I'd stop reading parenting books and magazines, ignored the overly solicitous grandmothers at the grocery store, and just went about my business the only way I knew how: My Way. The Girl was breastfed until she and I decided we were done, around nine months. She got solids when she seemed interested, at six months, and I threw away the bottles by a year because I'd grown tired of washing them and she didn't seem to mind.
As far as the boys went, we were doing just fine, if not magazine-worthy. I spanked them when I thought it was warranted, taught them "please" and "thank-you", and we laughed... a lot. I didn't potty-train them until they were almost four because they didn't seem all that interested until then. I didn't feel the need to push it, since that just made all of us miserable. They ran outside bare-footed, climbed trees that were too tall for them, and generally broke all of the normal rules. It was fun.
I was home with them during this time and we enjoyed spending time together, the five of us. I know that I made mistakes - probably a lot of them - but overall, the kids and I were happy enough to ignore the occasional disapproving stares and comments from our neighbors, friends, and family. The reason, I believe, is because we lived our lives in the way that best fit our family. We made it up as we went along, and it worked.
Nowadays, when new parents ask my advice, I tell them to trust their instincts and follow the kids' lead when it seems appropriate. So long as what they're doing makes sense to them, it's probably not wrong. There are limits, of course. Beatings, while great in theory, rarely give the desired results. Doctors often have good suggestions and are worth listening to, but shouldn't be followed blindly. And most of the time, you'll find out what works by doing what doesn't. Don't beat yourself up over it; just learn from it and move on.
Sometimes I'll hear "experienced" parents offering advice, and I cringe a little inside. They are, almost always, young parents with only one or two children who haven't yet learned that advice is worthless. What works for one slugger may not work for another, and insisting that it's full-proof just leads to confusion, guilt, and frustration for the new parents.... as if they don't already feel that often enough! Instead of doing that, I tell the new moms and dads what worked for me, and remind them that every child is different. Even my identical twins wanted to be comforted differently.
The reason I'm posting this is because I'm rather tired of the judgmental attitude about parenting that seems so rampant. The truth is that no two parents handle things exactly the same way, and that's not a bad thing. Children are as individual as their parents, and families have to work things out in a way that seems right together. Ultimately, they have to figure out how to live and function as a unit, and well-meaning advice often causes more harm than good. By all means, share your stories when asked, but understand when the advice hidden within isn't followed. You may be right, but it's up to the new parents to work that out for themselves, and for you to be patient, loving, and kind while they do so.
