Possible to be a laid-back mom in this area?

[Anonymous]

OP. A friend just sent me this essay, and I absolutely love it. Wanted to share it with the Betas and will also post on a new thread.


BEING A PARENT by Anna Quindlan

If not for the photographs, I might have a hard time believing they
ever existed. The pensive infant with the swipe of dark bangs and the
black button eyes of a Raggedy Andy doll. The placid baby with the
yellow ringlets and the high piping voice The sturdy toddler with the
lower lip that curled into an apostrophe above her chin. ALL MY
BABIES are gone now.

I say this not in sorrow but in disbelief. I take great
satisfaction in what I have today: three almost-adults, two taller
than I am, one closing in fast. Three people who read the same books
I do and have learned not to be afraid of disagreeing with me in
their opinion of them, who sometimes tell vulgar jokes that make me
laugh until I choke and cry, who need razor blades and shower gel and
privacy, who want to keep their doors closed more than I like. Who,
miraculously, go to the bathroom, zip up their jackets and move food
from plate to mouth all by themselves.

Like the trick soap I bought for the bathroom with a rubber duckie
at its center, the baby is buried deep within each, barely
discernible except through the unreliable haze of the past.

Everything in all the books I once pored over is finished for me
now. Penelope Leach. T. Berry Brazelton. Dr. Spock. The ones on
sibling rivalry and sleeping through the night and early-childhood
education, all grown obsolete. Along with Goodnight Moon and Where
the Wild Things Are, they are battered, spotted, well used.

But I suspect that if you flipped the pages dust would rise like
memories.

What those books taught me, finally, and what the women on the
playground taught me, and the well-meaning relations -- what they
taught me was that they couldn't really teach me very much at all.
Raising children is presented at first as a true-false test, then
becomes multiple choice, until finally, far along, you realize that
it is an endless essay. No one knows anything. One child responds
well to positive reinforcement, another can be managed only with a
stern voice and a timeout. One boy is toilet trained at 3, his
brother at 2. When my first child was born, parents were told to put
baby to bed on his belly so that he would not choke on his own spit-
up. By the time my last arrived, babies were put down on their backs
because of research on sudden infant death syndrome. To a new parent
this ever-shifting certainty is terrifying, and then soothing.
Eventually you must learn to trust yourself. Eventually the research
will follow.

First science said environment was the great shaper of human
nature. But it certainly seemed as though those babies had distinct
personalities, some contemplative, some gregarious, some crabby. And
eventually science said that was right, and that they were hard-wired
exactly as we had suspected.

Still, the temptation to defer to the experts was huge. The
literate parent, who approaches everything; cooking, decorating, life
as though there were a paper due or an exam scheduled, is in
particular peril when the kids arrive.

How silly it all seems now, the obsessing about language
acquisition and physical milestones, the riding the waves of normal,
gifted, hyperactive, all those labels that reduced individuality to a
series of cubbyholes. But I could not help myself. I had watched my
mother casually raise five children born over 10 years, but by
watching her I intuitively knew that I was engaged in the greatest
and potentially most catastrophic task of my life. I knew that there
were mothers who had worried with good reason, that there were
children who would have great challenges to meet. We were lucky; ours
were not among them.

Nothing horrible or astonishing happened: there was hernia surgery,
some stitches, a broken arm and a fuchsia cast to go with it. Mostly
ours were the ordinary everyday terrors and miracles of raising a
child, and our children's challenges the old familiar ones of
learning to live as themselves in the world. The trick was to get
past my fears, my ego and my inadequacies to help them do that.

I remember 15 years ago poring over one of Dr. Brazelton's
wonderful books on child development, in which he describes three
different sorts of infants: average, quiet, and active. I was looking
for a sub-quiet codicil for an 18-month-old who did not walk. Was
there something wrong with his fat little legs? Was there something
wrong with his tiny little mind? Was he developmentally delayed,
physically challenged? Was I insane? Last year he went to China. Next
year he goes to college. He can talk just fine. He can walk, too.

Every part of raising children is humbling, too. Believe me,
mistakes were made. They have all been enshrined in the Remember-When-
Mom-Did Hall of Fame. The outbursts, the temper tantrums, the bad
language, mine, not theirs. The times the baby fell off the bed. The
times I arrived late for preschool pickup. The nightmare sleepover.
The horrible summer camp. The day when the youngest came barreling
out of the classroom with a 98 on her geography test, and I
responded, What did you get wrong? (She insisted I include that.) The
time I ordered food at the McDonald's drive-through speaker and then
drove away without picking it up from the window. (They all insisted
I include that.) I did not allow them to watch the Simpsons for the
first two seasons. What was I thinking?

But the biggest mistake I made is the one that most of us make
while doing this. I did not live in the moment enough. This is
particularly clear now that the moment is gone, captured only in
photographs. There is one picture of the three of them sitting in the
grass on a quilt in the shadow of the swing set on a summer day, ages
6, 4 and 1. And I wish I could remember what we ate, and what we
talked about, and how they sounded, and how they looked when they
slept that night. I wish I had not been in such a hurry to get on to
the next thing: dinner, bath, book, bed. I wish I had treasured the
doing a little more and the getting it done a little less.

Even today I'm not sure what worked and what didn't, what was me
and what was simply life. When they were very small, I suppose I
thought someday they would become who they were because of what I'd
done. Now I suspect they simply grew into their true selves because
they demanded in a thousand ways that I back off and let them be. The
books said to be relaxed and I was often tense, matter-of-fact and I
was sometimes over the top. And look how it all turned out. I wound
up with the three people I like best in the world, who have done more
than anyone to excavate my essential humanity.

That's what the books never told me. I was bound and determined to
learn from the experts. It just took me a while to figure out who the
experts were.

[Anonymous]

I agree with the PP who said it is the imports who are really bad. My DH is from here, could not be more laid back, I am the one who needs to check myself. I work EVERY day to not get up in the madness of more more more. I think the recession has helped with this (the only blessing?) and now it is a little more normal to not sign up for EVERYTHING. But it is kind of out of control around here, but it is like this in EVERY city, to some extent.

Whenever I start to spin, my DH looks at me like I am crazy and asks "is this about YOU or the kids". It is always about ME and then I STOP. Thank God for him.

[Anonymous]

If you are so laid back, why do you care what other people do? Do what makes you happy.

[Anonymous]

As the mom of a teen and a tween, I can still remember how anxious I felt around the other expectant couples in our childbirth class -- even back in the day it was all about which stroller you were buying, which crib, which glider, etc, etc. While the specific subject changed slightly, the anxious, competitive tone continue through preschool and the early elementary grades -- which private school/public magnet are you applying to, which soccer league are you signing up for, which birthday party venue are you booking, etc., etc. Finally, when my oldest was in second grade, it suddenly occured to me that I could just walk away from these people and hang out with other parents who were not radiating that kind of anxiety. I don't know why it took so long, except perhaps that once your child reaches that age, you know a large enough pool of other parents to find a simpatico group. I do know that once I came to that realization I was much happier, and could even deal with the anxious folks in a less defensive way when I had to (remember -- you cannot control which children your child chooses to be friends with, so, as a result, you may find yourself forced to interact with some less laid-back types).

I'll also note that as a native New Yorker and graduate of a "name-brand" college and law school (I got lucky in the admissions lottery), I have to disagree with the argument that the degree of parental anxiety correlates with geographic origin or alma mater. So, sadly, I'm not sure you can escape it by moving to another part of the country or checking CVs.

[Anonymous]

Anonymous wrote:I've lived in Northern Virginia for about 2 years and just had my first baby. DH and I both grew up out West, but I never really noticed a cultural difference before. Now that I'm meeting more moms in the area, I'm really starting to wonder if we fit in here.

I don't really care about having a huge house, and we couldn't afford anything more than our townhouse right now anyway. We don't go on expensive trips or own fancy clothes or cars. No bugaboo or anything super fancy for our kid. We haven't signed our 6 month old up for preschool yet and haven't even researched the elementary schools or high schools in our area.

Most of the moms I have met are super on the ball and type-A types. Competitive and really status-aware. I guess I am aware of status cause I am aware that I don't have it! We are more laid-back, take it as it comes people. We are having fun with our little family and aren't really competitive by nature. But I definitely feel like an odd duck around here compared with the people we have met.

Are there any others out there like us? And if not, is it possible for our family to remain laid-back in a culture that is anything but? I am wondering if we will try to swim against the stream by staying in Northern Virginia...

I met a couple of them yesterday....having their wine spritzers at the playground! Loved it. It was mother's day after all. I am sure abuse will be leaped upon me and the irresponsibility and the illegality, etc. etc...blow me!

Seriously- they are here- but few and far between but when you meet a kindred soul you will bond to them like glue. 6 weeks postpartum in a mommy and me pilate class at a yoga studio..okay WTH was I thking?!!! Met my best and most laid back mommy friend....as we had the kids that wouldn't cooperate,,,the one telling the hippies that her formula in the bottle was breast milk as she shook it up. I love her to this day. I just want my kids to be happy like a pp...and happiness for my child is being able to splash freely in puddles after school, wheel his toys and trucks thru mud puddles and just be left the hell alone for a few hours...not have every minute of his life mapped out for harvard.

[Anonymous]

How to be a laid-back mom in the midst of Type A moms?

Be yourself. Be confident in your own decisions. Model for your DC acceptance by saying, "Hey those crazy Type A gals rock but that is just not me."

If you truly are laid back, all the hyper spider monkey moms should just roll off your back, correct?

Signed,
Adams Morgan Mom knee deep in the rat race loving every minute of every day be it a Type A day or a Beta day, but especially when it is Champagne Tuesday!

[Anonymous]

I grew up in Bethesda and live in Bethesda.....same neighborhood in fact! I've always found wonderful, laid back, caring neighbors and parents but I suppose it depends much on your outlook. Not that EVERYONE is this way but I think you seek your own kind, more or less. Have patience and if you want it, it will come. My DH is from Seattle and very laid back and has made many friends here (and he's not even that social!).

[Anonymous]

I suspect I might be a laid-back mom. I used to be Type A, before kid, but I never wanted to risk being a neurotic mom with a neurotic kid, so I decided to be relaxed once I had a kid. It seems to be working. I'm happy, her dad's happy and she's a very even-tempered kid.

I am going to try to get a house in a slightly better school district, but only because the high school district we're in is one of the worst in Fairfax, and that makes me a little nervous. I'd be fine with a school that's toward the middle for the county. I'm trying to avoid the private route, but if we did go that way, I would actually love it if I could find a school with uniforms, so appearance wasn't a big deal - I think an obsession with labels, etc. can be a real distraction.

Our daughter's in a pretty low-frills daycare and she loves it. I dress her in cute hand-me-downs from my friends or find Carter's basics on sale. We borrowed a lot of baby stuff or got it cheap off craigslist. I will have to put her in summer camps, etc. at some point, but mainly because I have to work full-time and I want her to do some fun stuff in the summers. (my mom was a SAHM and we didn't have much extra money growing up, so I never got to do that stuff.) When she's older, I hope she goes to college because I think it's hard to succeed these days without a college degree, but I would be cool with her going wherever she wants to go and studying what she wants.

Good luck! there are laid-back moms around here - I know a few. they're probably just not that vocal about it.

[Anonymous]

Yup, there are laid back people around. I'm one, of necessity as well as choice. I think the school should teach my kids-- not me. My job is to love them, talk to them, and read to them, but if they need flash cards and worksheets, well, I am A-OK with deciding that it's their school that's going to have to deal with that one. When the kids actually request to do extracurrics-- which happpens from time to time-- I say fine. But I sure don't push them or sign them up for anything. I'd generally rather have them home making forts out of sofa cushions than somewhere else taking violin lessons. Their hair isn't always brushed because sometimes we forget. They wear some pretty weird clothes because I (mostly) let them dress themselves, drawing the line only at the wildly inappropriate (bathing suit in the middle of winter? no. Pink wig? sure, why not?). They do not take lessons or have a tutor or even play soccer, bless their little hearts. They do climb trees, make magic potions, write and illustrate their own very peculiar story books, and wear odd costumes about 90% of the time. And they're darling and brilliant little children and I really could care less if they never ever learn the rules of soccer or if it takes them until 5th grade to be good at spelling.