Type of Mom by Darylynn Starr Rank

A few months ago I wrote a column about "learning to accept and embrace" the unique individual that is your child.  Today's topic is an intriguing shift to an equally, if not more, challenging concept:  learning to accept and embrace the unique parent that is you…

A digression here, into my past, seems to be the most obvious way to make a point.  It was one of those crystallizing moments that I try to hold on to.  Many years ago when I was starting out as a married young'un I struggled to find an acceptable standard for taking care of my home.  How clean was clean?  How messy was acceptable? 

Pretty primitive questions for a young married woman.  But somehow, fundamental.  Especially since my husband and I were still going to school, studying endlessly, and working a lot to pay for it.  So even back then, time was an issue.

Within a couple of years each of my two sisters came for a visit from their far away homes (one lived in Brazil, the other was posted somewhere in Africa), one right after the other.  Please note.  They're both my older sisters.  That simple fact translated into, 'approval needed, please', for me.

The first one came, looked at my home, sat in my kitchen, and innocently inquired, "So, how often do you tidy, clean, vacuum?" 

"Once a week," I answered blythely (but the tension was there in my shoulders).

"Really.  Only once a week?  I never let more than three days go by without vacuuming."

Sigh.

The second one came, looked at my home, sat in my kitchen, and innocently inquired, "So, how often to do you tidy, clean, vacuum?" 

You know the answer.  The shoulders were tighter, though, following my first failure.

"Really.  Gosh, I don't have the time for that," she said.  "I'd go nuts if I vacuumed more than twice a month.  You're being a little compulsive, aren't you?"

Again, sigh. 

My first reaction was to throw up my hands and admit utter failure.
But the glimmer of an idea, completely obvious but often ignored, forgotten, lost, invisible, especially in the busy, overworked, overwhelmed, struggling to learn new skills, new behaviours, new lifestyles world - you know, kind of like the time when you have children - presented itself.

We had different ways of doing things.

We were different people.  We had different husbands.  We had different households.  At the time one of them had four kids.  The other was pregnant with her first.  I didn't have any.   There were cats and dogs, even fish.  And we lived our lives in utterly different ways. 

And I think, most importantly, the three of us couldn't be more different in who we are, in spite of being brought up together.  Our basic characteristics.  Those intractable, genetically-determined, 'wow-that's-what-makes-me-me' personalities.

Imagine how much those differences become one of life's most important issues when you're trying to figure out the far more complex world of how to be a 'perfect' parent…   

Especially with those unique, each one equally different, children we talked about before. 

My thoughts on how to be the perfect parent?  Being you, in the most wonderful way you can.  Probably the hardest answer of all.

Take care, all.

Darylynn Starr Rank (psychologist/writer) works part-time for Family Services of Greater Vancouver as a group facilitator. Her articles appear bi-weekly in The Record (New Westminster) and the Richmond Review.

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