A Tip from Babies about Perfect Parenting

Approximately 15 years ago I was walking around downtown Truckee with my family while on vacation. Inside a favorite dress shop I noticed a colorful beaded bracelet. It had a perfect French blue hand-blown heart-shaped glass bead, some silver beads with carvings on them, each one a different shape; octagon, circular and square. There was a ceramic white circle-shaped bead with a painted brown dog, his tongue hanging out of his mouth. There was a black and blue oval-shaped striped bead, a wooden red one, and a blue spherical bead with a beach ball painted on it with another painted dog wagging his tail. There were many other varieties of red, blue and clear beads, many shapes, sizes and textures, some ordinary and some rather unique.

I think parenting is a lot like that bracelet. 

The ordinary days, where there are piles of laundry and bathrooms that need cleaning, carpets need vacuuming, shelves and knick-knacks need dusting, breakfasts, lunches, dinners and beds need to be made. Inevitably there is driving or carpool, spills to be wiped up, and toys to be tidied. Perhaps there is yet another argument about who gets the front seat, or a door is slammed, and you've read the last story, tucked in the final blanket, kissed the remaining child's forehead and settled upon the couch or the bed to read, watch TV, pay bills or head into the shower to begin your own nighttime routine. You remind yourself to put the chicken in the fridge so it will defrost in time to cook dinner tomorrow and you throw the last load in the dryer, brush your teeth and hopefully remember to floss. 

Maybe you feel uninspired by your parenting that day. Maybe guilty you didn't get everything done, or weren't as patient as you could have been. 

Or maybe you had a great day. 

Maybe you plopped your baby on the lawn, and they sat like a little tripod with chubby legs extended out in front of them. They leaned over in concentration and with their one stubby pointed finger touched a dandelion you hadn't even noticed. Or your baby smiled and looked intently at a spot between their legs. You lean over to look at it's significance and notice the ant crawling in the grass, or the lone pine needle that now has your baby's undivided attention. You notice the sound of the birds, or the airplane flying overhead or the distant bark of a dog because of your baby.

And just like that you have learned to recognize the uniqueness that is all around that maybe you'd forgotten or been too busy to notice but because you saw the day through your child's eyes, you realized it was pretty darn special.

Sleeping outside under the stars and the protection of a Magnolia tree, positioned on top of a blue camping tarp, with sleeping bags, blankets, pillows, stuffed animals, three squirming kids, a jack russell terrier and a tired mommy can produce magic.

Spying on your toddler son wearing nothing but cowboys boots and training pants with his big sister in her underwear enjoying a tea party on the backyard grass in  the dead of winter sunshine, secretly filming them from a window is magical too.

Magic is also building forts made of couch cushions and instead of making it all come down and cleaning up, seeing the astonished looks on your three children's' faces as you tell them that perhaps we'd best keep it there for playtime tomorrow.

Another magical and memorable day happened many many years ago. My children's daddy was working at the firehouse and I had the day off from teaching, or it was the weekend, or summer, I don't remember that part. I do remember deciding it would be a beach day for the four of us. I packed a lunch, towels, changes of clothes, jackets in case it was chilly on the coast, sand-pails and shovels, as well as getting all three children readied with swimwear. We got in our new-to-us, used car with the now novel sun-roof. We cranked up the music and headed in the direction of the beach.

I recall the freedom, driving with the fresh air, comfy seats and feeling as if something special might happen. We drove to our favorite beach past Half Moon Bay and camped ourselves there for duration of the day. The kids swam in the shallow fresh waters that feed into the saltwater. Sandcastles were built and Nerf Balls were thrown. All of that activity was a great way to spend the day but soon it was time to pack up, dust the sand off our bodies and throw dry sweatshirts on over our swimsuits.

"Mommy, what are those people doing over there?

"Hmmm, I don't know. Let's go see."

We worked our way over the mounds of sand to where the crashing waves were located.

And there we saw magic moment number one.

"A whale!!! Do you see it? Oh-my-gosh, it's a WHALE!!" they screamed.

The smallish whale was just off the shoreline, barely a stone's throw away. The entire crowd of beachcombers stood as one, now silent except for the sporadic inhales of breath and sighs as we all marveled together.

I was born in Oakland and had grown up going to the beach with my family and had never seen a whale offshore like this one.

We stood for a good ten or fifteen minutes just watching. And watched some more.

Reluctantly we pulled ourselves away from the shore to the car and headed home. We drove over the hills, up the windy roads and across the bridge and freeways to the valley where I grew up. We were headed through it when I noticed magic moment number two.

There in the middle of the canyon, with small ranches and farms sprinkled with cows, sheep, goats or horses was a passing lane for cars commuting through it.  I could see a young man on the left-hand side of the road. I pulled over.

There seated on a little stool was the young shirtless male in blue jeans. He was positioned perfectly in an acoustic location, just past the t-intersection of hills. He was jamming on his drum set a catchy rhythmic song.

"Look! That man is playing music, mommy! He's playing on his drums!"

We all started swaying to the music in unison, left, bob-up-and-down, right, bob-up-and-down, left.

We waited until his song was over and I slowly pulled back onto the road. We headed toward home but first we had a Costco stop. And after filling our grocery cart, waiting in line for our turn to pay, I witnessed magic moment number three.

I have to confess, at this point I can't remember the exact words that were spoken. I just remember the 20-something year old clerk was cool to my son. Way cool. My son was in kindergarten or first grade, the age where little boys begin to tell silly jokes. Sometime these silly jokes made no sense whatsoever. My son's dad, his sisters and I enjoyed his sense of humor which was just beginning to develop. Knock-knock jokes were all the rage and so, much to my amusement, he began to tell his joke to the clerk. I was a little teensy bit nervous because, as I said, some of his jokes made no sense. But he innocently plowed right into the joke telling. And you know what? That clerk laughed. And my son laughed too. He then high-fived my son. My son beamed.

And I just knew it. That day was one of the perfect ones. We had experienced a whale sighting, an acoustic drum jam session in the middle of a canyon and were the lucky recipients of the one checkstand clerk who would laugh and high-five my son and his novice joke telling.

My Truckee bracelet has a few plain, ordinary beads mixed in with the colorful painted ones, no two exactly alike. Parenting days are like that too. The tricky part, if you're not careful, is not noticing them. So perhaps today is a day to take a tip from the babies, and just notice.