My journey into parenthood began at the age of 19 with the birth of my first son. At that time, I owned very little and desired even less. My aspirations were not material; rather, they revolved around experiences, emotional connections, and meaningful interactions. I dedicated myself to overcoming the emotional scars of my youth, striving to ensure that I wouldn’t inadvertently pass on my struggles to my child. While I did, indeed, fumble along the way, the introspection I pursued through therapy, reading, and journaling transformed what could have been a tumultuous childhood into one filled with love and emotional stability.
With just a few essential items—diapers and wipes tucked into my purse, perhaps a onesie for emergencies—I ventured out with my baby. My mother often chuckled, reminiscing about how much parenting had evolved since her time. “I couldn’t leave the house without a cart full of supplies,” she would say. My youth freed me from the pressures of comparison; I had no peers with children to gauge myself against. My son thrived on the attention he received as the only child in various social settings. I opted against using a stroller, preferring to carry him in a sling or in my arms, and I exclusively breastfed him, avoiding bottles and formula altogether.
We explored the world together—visiting bookstores weekly, enjoying trips to parks, the desert, dirt bike rallies, and the beach. By the time he turned two, he was recognized as one of the happiest and most observant children. “He’s so polite!” “He converses like a little adult.” “He’s so mature.” “What a great listener.” “He’s an old soul.” These compliments echoed from friends and strangers alike, and I responded with a humble nod and a smile as he often played contentedly by himself while I wrote.
To ensure we spent quality time together, I worked as a nanny and later as a preschool teacher. I took college classes at night, leaving him in my mother’s capable hands. For most of those formative years, we were inseparable, co-sleeping, cuddling, and engaging in silly dances. His toy collection was minimal, and his wardrobe consisted mainly of second-hand clothing. I cut his hair and dressed him in used garments, while our special tradition became Friday Night Family Night—ordering pizza and renting movies, a custom we still uphold. Our bond was profound; he delighted in bug hunting, devoured countless books, spent long hours in bookstores, gardened with his grandmother, and was exposed to various art forms, nature, and music. It was a life rich in experiences and love.
Fast forward to my youngest child, Ava, who is now four. She benefits from a stable family environment that my first son lacked. Born into a loving marriage, surrounded by a large, supportive family, and with two employed parents, my emotional state at Ava’s birth was significantly more stable. I was in my late 30s, more self-assured and integrated into my community, less anxious and emotional than I had been as a young mother. Ava has three older siblings to mentor her, an older sister who dotes on her, and a treasure trove of toys—magnets, building blocks, dolls, cars, and more. Yet, what she misses compared to her brother is the uninterrupted, focused attention that I was able to provide him, particularly during those early years when family was more intimate.
Although Ava’s life is relatively carefree and she is surrounded by love, I have noticed that I struggle to provide her with the dedicated, tranquil attention she deserves. As much as I cherish the blessings of a larger family and the joys of working from home, I sometimes find myself overwhelmed by the demands of modern life. The lessons learned during my early parenting years have become overshadowed by the chaotic rhythm of juggling multiple responsibilities.
I must remind myself that what Ava truly needs isn’t more toys or activities, but my undivided presence. She requires walks where I’m not preoccupied with household chores, playtime where I’m not rushing to answer a phone call, and art sessions where I can engage with her wholeheartedly. Lately, I’ve been focusing on a mantra: “be where I am.” This principle holds the key to effective parenting. It’s about being present and engaged, leaving distractions behind, and facing the world together, free from gadgets.
Through these reflections, I relearn the importance of prioritizing time with my children, as this ultimately allows them the space to allow me to pursue my interests outside of parenting.
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In essence, the journey of parenting is about being fully engaged in the present moment, ensuring that our children feel loved, secure, and valued.
Keyphrase: Parenting Lessons
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