Right Mothering

Well, if you knew me, you would know that I never brag.  I believe it tempts fate; plus, I don’t need to.  My daughter is just wonderful, and it is clear to anyone who meets her.  But since you never will (or at least, wouldn’t know it if you did), I will write a few words.

This past month, my husband and I attended our fifth parent teacher conference, and, it is becoming a bit repetitive.  But it feels good to be told how special our daughter is – brilliant, respectful of the teachers, a favorite of the staff and of other children.  This year’s teacher, a mother herself, has great insight.  She began our meeting by describing our daughter’s two defining traits:  her perfectionism and her strong sense of justice.  This meant the world to me, in truth, because those are my defining traits, and I believe them to be my greatest strengths.  But I don’t think that I embodied them when I was only five years old!  So, our daughter excels at school.  She has played the piano for almost two years, and the violin for one and one half.  She takes ballet at the school of the professional ballet company in town.  When she swims every Sunday with her father, she swims laps – backstroke, freestyle, and breaststroke – and can dive into the pool.  She is fluent in three languages – one from me, one from her father, and one from school and her grandmother.  I will write more on all of these things later.  And, as far as I know (and I always ask the teachers in the parent-teacher conferences), she never misbehaves or inflicts any sort of harm on other children.

This is all not to say that parenting her is easy.  At home, she can be a handful.  But at school, she always makes us proud.  Indeed, I know that the efforts we make at home pay off in the world.

My husband is four years younger than I am.  He has an advanced degree from a European university and is a citizen of two European countries.  He cooks most every meal that we eat, including the hot lunch that I bring to work everyday.  He vacuums, does the laundry, and does more than his fair share of taking care of our daughter.  And we adore him.  He is strong and quiet, protective and sensible, affectionate and loyal, and incredibly handsome in the most masculine of ways.  And that is all you need to know… for now.

The sharing of my thoughts and experiences won’t mean much without some context.  I will be personal, while remaining anonymous.  So I begin with something about my background:  I am 33-years old.  I grew up in New England and the Mid-Atlantic, went only to public schools, and then onto the Ivy League, one of the big three.  From there, I went on to another of the big three for a PhD in the humanities.  Just as my dissertation research was getting underway, September 11th happened, throwing everything into doubt.  Why did I deserve this luxury of studying an obscure topic with no immediate relevance when others do the tough stuff of saving lives and fighting wars (and making money for their family and for others)?  Teaching was always the saving grace, but it was so many years off, and now, as I will detail later, is still out of reach.

I went to Europe on a prestigious fellowship funding my dissertation research, and as I had burned out with September 11th, I had fun and I met my husband.  Our connection was immediate.  We had found each other.  We married and started our family.  Our daughter was born in 2003.  Then we moved to the States in 2006.  I finished my dissertation, taught for one year, and now work in my field, but not in a teaching or research position.  As my daughter approached five and I approached my mid-30s, it was my upper limit for baby number two.  So, just before I started my new job, we conceived the baby with which I am now pregnant.  And when the baby comes, I will leave this new job, first to care for the baby and then to return to research and teaching.

I wouldn’t dare to publish a blog on a topic on which I have no expertise.  I already have two blogs in the academic discipline in which I have an advanced degree, but knowledge of the topic of this blog cannot be learned in the classroom and its attainment is not certified by a degree.  The topic of this blog is what it is like to raise an exceptional child, for which proof is in the pudding.  For this, however, you must simply take my word for it.

I will guard my family’s privacy.  This will enable me to be more forthcoming than I would be if our identities were known.  Furthermore, what I write will be controversial, because I will pass judgment on parenting decisions – how else could I have made my decisions?  So, to avoid the wrath of some, I choose anonymity.

So, be forewarned.  I have not set out to make you feel bad about what you have or haven’t done as a parent.  When I need parenting advice, I look to the mothers (and fathers) of children whom I consider to be well raised and no farther, even if they are few and far between.  Also, I will be honest about mistakes that I have made and whether or not they turned out to be of consequence.  I am just sharing my experiences for those who want to hear from someone who has had positive outcomes.

As it happens, I am also expecting a second child, so I will share my experiences during the pregnancy and beyond this second time around, as they happen, in addition to sharing thoughts on my first child.  I expect that I will actually write more about number two, for with my older child, we now mostly reap the benefits of all the decisions and efforts made during the pregnancy and the first three years.  More on that later.