Parenting is kind of like driving over the pass, at night, during a blizzard. Sometimes we know we are making this trip and we have checked the weather forecast, made the chains more accessible in the back seat, packed extra gloves and blankets, added extra bottles of water and energy bars to the safety bag, and topped off the windshield wiper solution. Most of the time it is more like a last minute, unexpected trip we don't really want to take, with little time to attend to the details. We fly by the seat of our pants. The chains are in the trunk, but under the reusable grocery bags and books that need to be returned to the school. There are a couple of partially drank water bottles rolling around on the floor behind the drivers seat and maybe a left over breakfast bar tucked into the door well. The windshield wipers are working, but showing signs of wear by smudging the wet snow across the middle of our field of vision. All the tools and prep items are there, just enough to give us hope in case we get stuck while they clear the road, but we wouldn't be comfortable for more than our half-tank of gas will hold out. We manage to plow through the sticky wet snow, feel it pulling our tires if we drive out of the grooves, and craning our necks to see over that smudge on the windshield. At the bottom of the pass, when the slush has turned to rain, we realize our neck is stiff, our shoulders are up around our ears and we probably need to find a restroom… quickly!
We finally pull over to the rest stop, get that physical relief we need and shake our shoulders out to release all that tension. As we wash our hands, a conversation is struck with a fellow traveler, extolling the challenges of the journey we both just endured. "Yeah, that was quite the white out! Did you get stuck behind that big rig with the left tail light that was out? Couldn't figure out which lane he was in at first…" We both sigh with mutual relief and swap smug surviver smiles, knowing that we just dodged a spin out. Barely.
Parents often joke how our children don't come with instructions. I sure wish mine had. Instead, my husband and I relied on parenting classes and books. It began with the birthing classes we took even before they were born. The first ones helped to prepare us physically and mentally for our oldest's arrival. As our girls aged, we looked for opportunities to develop our parenting skills to be able to handle all manner of discipline, developmental stage, remediation and prevention of uncharacteristic habits and genetic predispositions. The ability to use one's knowledge, aptitude and practice to do something well, is how we define skill. The definition assumes some sort of familiarity or awareness about the subject, having an innate capacity to learn, and opportunities to repeat the practice is how we obtain our "expertise" in those skills.
Like learning how to drive a car, as we drive, we get feedback from the car's performance, our reactions to road conditions and build comfort in our ability to handle what ever the road, vehicle or circumstances throw our way. Some parenting experiences are a familiar drive to the grocery store, and others are well planned vacations to known destinations. Then there are those road trips that may start out as unassuming as a drive to the store, but end up taking us over the wildest mountain passes, in unpredictable weather, without a road map or clue as to where we will end up. That is when we look for the tail lights of those that have gone before, connect to those around us for support, and take note of what our needs are so we can best navigate the road without endangering ourselves and others.
Yes, I wish our girls had come with instructions. It would have made parenting easy, but we would have missed out on finding our grit, our silver linings and diminished our feelings of successes.
~ Updated 11/15/19.
~Ms Jensen and her husband have celebrated 25 years of marriage, raised two daughters to their early 20's and survived some hard parenting moments.
We finally pull over to the rest stop, get that physical relief we need and shake our shoulders out to release all that tension. As we wash our hands, a conversation is struck with a fellow traveler, extolling the challenges of the journey we both just endured. "Yeah, that was quite the white out! Did you get stuck behind that big rig with the left tail light that was out? Couldn't figure out which lane he was in at first…" We both sigh with mutual relief and swap smug surviver smiles, knowing that we just dodged a spin out. Barely.
Parents often joke how our children don't come with instructions. I sure wish mine had. Instead, my husband and I relied on parenting classes and books. It began with the birthing classes we took even before they were born. The first ones helped to prepare us physically and mentally for our oldest's arrival. As our girls aged, we looked for opportunities to develop our parenting skills to be able to handle all manner of discipline, developmental stage, remediation and prevention of uncharacteristic habits and genetic predispositions. The ability to use one's knowledge, aptitude and practice to do something well, is how we define skill. The definition assumes some sort of familiarity or awareness about the subject, having an innate capacity to learn, and opportunities to repeat the practice is how we obtain our "expertise" in those skills.
Like learning how to drive a car, as we drive, we get feedback from the car's performance, our reactions to road conditions and build comfort in our ability to handle what ever the road, vehicle or circumstances throw our way. Some parenting experiences are a familiar drive to the grocery store, and others are well planned vacations to known destinations. Then there are those road trips that may start out as unassuming as a drive to the store, but end up taking us over the wildest mountain passes, in unpredictable weather, without a road map or clue as to where we will end up. That is when we look for the tail lights of those that have gone before, connect to those around us for support, and take note of what our needs are so we can best navigate the road without endangering ourselves and others.
Yes, I wish our girls had come with instructions. It would have made parenting easy, but we would have missed out on finding our grit, our silver linings and diminished our feelings of successes.
~ Updated 11/15/19.
~Ms Jensen and her husband have celebrated 25 years of marriage, raised two daughters to their early 20's and survived some hard parenting moments.