Organic Parenting Doesn't Work for Me (aka Why I Can See Myself Shooting A Laptop)

"Baby, you need to stop playing with Mommy's jewelry."

She continues.

"Baby, I said stop playing with Mommy's jewelry! Wouldn't you rather get a toy?"

She continues.

"BABY! I said STOP. PLAYING. with MOMMY'S jewelry. It's time to leave this room."

She continues.

"ARGLESPLATTENDORFENFRUGGEMONSTER!"

With this final command in place, my pint-sized dictator places one more of "Mommy's" necklaces around her waist before sweeping out of the room in a tyrannical gust of beads and Goldfish crackers.

You think I'm kidding. I wish you were right.

When my beautiful baby was born four years ago, I was far from new to being around children. I paid my dues in several years of babysitting, acquired a few young cousins, nephews, and one niece along the way, and in general I did not live in a hole so thus saw children in public on a regular basis. My husband and I had discussed our parenting styles at length long before we even considered conceiving, and we had the basic outline in mind:

-No spanking (just doesn't suit us, but we understand why it does suit others)
-No children sleeping in our bedroom/bed
-No eating out after 5pm until she's ten
-Discipline through time-outs, revoking privileges, and positive redirecting as necessary
-Primarily formula-fed in the beginning
-No chicken nuggets and macaroni & cheese diets! She will eat what we eat.

You can see where this list is going. The first round of disruptions came long before I gave birth. Every mother I knew had at least one part of our plan that she laughed at, and every mother had a suggestion for why at least one choice was not the best choice (i.e. not what she chose). Surprisingly, my own mother and grandmother kept most unsolicited advice to themselves (thanks in large part to the comparatively recent arrival of my youngest cousin; I think they wore themselves out offering all their advice to his mother). Here's what I learned:

Everybody spanks. No, really, I have yet to find a parent who could honestly tell me that they had never, ever spanked their child. My daughter is currently four years-old and yet to be spanked. However, I went through an incredibly turbulent period of about five weeks when I was absolutely convinced that spanking was the only way to reel in my little hellion. That period passed, but I've years to go before I can honestly say that I raised a child without ever spanking.

No children sleeping in our bed/bedroom? I had good intentions. Because she was in the NICU, I never experienced having my daughter sleep in the same room as me in the hospital. She stayed there on Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday nights. We took her home Thursday morning, and by Thursday afternoon I had sent my husband to the nearest big box store to purchase a bassinet that would spend the next 4-6 months pushed so closely against my bed that I could sleep with one hand on my daughter's stomach. At about the same time that my daughter outgrew her bassinet, my sisters-in-law on my husband's side came to visit and vowed they would convince me to move the baby out of my room before they left. They claimed that then would be the perfect time because she was really too big for her bassinet anyway. I told my husband that was the perfect time to ask his brother to help him move the crib into our room, thus ensuring me several additional months of keeping my baby by my bedside.

That, of course, is very different from sharing our bed. My daughter has yet to get to start her night in my bed. She has ended up there various times in the past, but my husband and I both agreed that it's more important to get her clean, pacified, and back to sleep after a 3am bedwetting nightmare than it is to maintain our solitude for those precious few remaining hours of sleep. It's a nice compromise of taking the easy way out in the middle of the night without giving up the peace and privacy of going to bed with only my spouse (and he agrees).

While we have given in these areas, we have rarely given in on our restaurant vow. I don't know if this is the result of too many nightmarish tables when I was a server or too many embarrassing experiences with other children, but we've remained largely committed to this rule. We've certainly made exceptions for large family dinners and special occasions, but we've also used take-away services almost exclusively when dinner is just the three of us. I know plenty of people who have been disappointed and even offended that we have elected not to eat out with them if it means taking Ellie, but trust me, most of the other patrons are happier this way.

I could keep going through the list, but the general breakdown of our rules is evident. Meanwhile, I've received endless articles on why we should never say "no" to the precious snowflakes of our daughter's generation. We should only feed her breastmilk, even if it means purchasing the milk online rather than formula in a store. We should co-sleep whenever possible, and I should be staying at home for at least the first ten years. We should follow her lead on when it's time for her to eat and sleep. We should look at tantrums as grand expressions of personality, intelligence, and individuality. And on, and on, and on it goes. Of course, the many, many conflicts that exissted between the advice we received and the plans we had made left me with two real choices: I could follow the advice and possibly raise the next Picasso, or I could follow my plans, thus damaging her freedom and breaking her spirit, but at least I would still be able to take her in public with me without having to ask her where our first stop should be.

I exaggerrate on the outcome, of course, but the choices were really quite confusing. In my opening example, I did try to avoid saying no. Obviously that didn't work, and I can't really say that I tried it again. Instead, I quickly realized that I didn't want to achieve an organic parenting style. I wanted a child who would call her elders "sir" and "ma'am." I wanted a daughter who would sit quietly in a restaurant or theater, and I wanted that more than I wanted a daughter who would try escargot on her third birthday (she would have been the only person eating that anyway). I wanted a child who understood a basic set of rules, slept in her own bedroom, said "please," "thank you," "excuse me," and more. I wanted a daughter who would give up her seat for an adult because she realizes that is a sign of respecting her elders and not in anyway a question of her value as a person. I wanted a daughter who would be ready to face the world and deal with what she would see when she grew up. Now then, which set of rules would make that person happen?

My daughter is four years-old now, and the reality is that I'm still learning which rules work best. She still gets mouthy sometimes, but she also shows genuine appreciation for everything from a new toy to freshly cleaned laundry. She doesn't always listen the first time I ask her to do something (or second or third time . . .), but she understands that not listening means she has earned her consequences. Meanwhile, I have accepted the possibility that turning down her nail-polish-mural-on-the-bedroom-wall idea may reappear in therapy a few decades from now as the sole reason why her painting career will never really take off - and it turns out I'm okay with that.

"Baby, no. You know you are not supposed to play with Mommy's jewelry without asking."

She stops. "Okay, I'm sorry."

"So what do you need to do now?"

She thinks. "I need to put the jewelry back where I found it?"

"Good! Then what do you need to do?"

She thinks again. "Probably hug my mommy because she loves me an awful lot?"

"Now THAT sounds like a plan I can live with!"