Improv Parenting..

 Improv Parenting

               There are times I look around and think; holy shit am I in charge?!? I think this is partly because I am a smart-ass but mainly because in my head I range from a kid to my early 20s in age. There are times I have to remind myself I am now in my mid 30’s and no it’s not the 90’s anymore.  Its not a transitory Alzheimer's but more of the normal perception of stuttering through life. Maybe I am the only one who has this brain glitch (one of many) but there it is. 

This is how I view myself most days..

     When I was a child I would look at my parents and think ‘that’s what its like to be a grown up’. Seeing them as mostly all knowing (except for with math homework), patient, kind, and watchful guardians. Now that I am a parent ( I still hesitate at saying grown up) I realize that while they did know a lot compared to my decade of life experience, a lot of time they were winging it and hoping for the best. Which brings about an interesting idea of parenting as a series of improvs. What works, you keep. What fails, you forget. And what makes them laugh is usually worth looking closer at. 

        As a mom I try to remember what it was like when I was a kid. With my collection of head trauma that can be a taller order than it sounds. I remember being impatient. I remember wanting more freedom while at the same time being a little scared of it. I remember being in awe of my parents knowledge.  I remember the basic desire to be in control of my life the way it seemed my parents were. While not understanding that all the while I was the one in control. 

Last night I had this discussion with my kiddo. He’s a smart kid with a great heart. Life has left him and I with a few obstacles that we regularly hurtle over and through together. Last nights talk was about decisions. He commented in a sing-songy monotone that he knows “he has to do with his life what we adults say”. My comment back was a shrug and “no..you don’t.” This stopped him for a minute. I then explained that parents set rules with repercussions if they are broken, yes. But thoughts, words, beliefs, dreams and eventually even actions are really his own domain. I can offer guidance and advice but ultimately the decisions for his actions will be on him. I can set rules, give him chores to help teach him but I can’t force him to submit. My job is to help him grow up to be the best most amazing him he can be. That means helping him learn from his mistakes and applauding his victories. In that moment my son sat up straighter. He stared off in the distance and thought long and hard about what I had just said. He tipped that little chin back and looked at me with new eyes. “So.. My life is mine.  …and you help guide me through it?” he asked. “Yes, and love you to the point of being annoying. Usually.” I answered He smirked and said “cool, I am excited to build an awesome life.” In that moment I realized to him I looked like my parents did to me when I was young.  Except now we were partners in building his amazing life. 

               The idea of being grown up seems to be much like the word ‘beautiful. It’s a descriptive we award to someone or something who as qualities we admire or find appealing. When I was a child I thought being a grown up was a point in my life I would reach like puberty or graduation. Now I realize that it’s a compliment. And just like beauty, its transitory and inconstant. There are days I improv parenting correctly and find something beautiful and grown up. And there are other days where I am again a kid and have no idea what I am doing. Sometimes they are one in the same. 

So I keep what works,

forget what doesn’t

 and pay attention to what makes us laugh.