When my husband and I were first dating and started revealing to each other the innermost workings of our minds, I confessed to him that I make lists. Not just your ordinary lists such as shopping, to-do, or books to read this summer. No, I make Lists, with a capital L. With “pro” and “con” columns and an objective numerical ranking system, these psychotic masterpieces allow me to function in a world where indecision and forgetfulness are lurking everywhere.
What this obsessive list-making reveals about me is a need to control things before they occur; I like to get all of my ducks in a row so that I can predictably control outcome. And perhaps I am delusional, but I think I was doing a commendable job. Then into my neat and orderly world entered a baby girl. Control and order exit stage left. While I am still able to rule my immediate environment with an iron fist (evidenced by the alphabetized baby products in Izzy’s changing table), I am suddenly helpless as a fish on land when it comes to the present and future actions of this new child of mine.
My mind is consumed by the disconcerting concept that she might not follow a predictable or controllable (by me)course – from potty-training to choice of her future marriage partner, I cannot reliably prioritize and manage her choices! I urgently realize that I must arm her with all of the knowledge I have accumulated in the four decades of my trial-and-error living. This is the only shot I have of avoiding chaos and anarchy.
What this obsessive list-making reveals about me is a need to control things before they occur; I like to get all of my ducks in a row so that I can predictably control outcome. And perhaps I am delusional, but I think I was doing a commendable job. Then into my neat and orderly world entered a baby girl. Control and order exit stage left. While I am still able to rule my immediate environment with an iron fist (evidenced by the alphabetized baby products in Izzy’s changing table), I am suddenly helpless as a fish on land when it comes to the present and future actions of this new child of mine.
My mind is consumed by the disconcerting concept that she might not follow a predictable or controllable (by me)course – from potty-training to choice of her future marriage partner, I cannot reliably prioritize and manage her choices! I urgently realize that I must arm her with all of the knowledge I have accumulated in the four decades of my trial-and-error living. This is the only shot I have of avoiding chaos and anarchy.
As soon as she has mastered some rudimentary conversational skills, we must discuss, in no particular order: the power of tequila, the longevity of tattoos, credit card use, the futility of lying to authority figures, keeping the gas gauge above ¼ tank, and boys who drive vans. Not to overwhelm her with my vast knowledge in one sitting, another session will be in order which covers body image, the use of the word “Love” (use it often when you mean it and be skeptical when it is spoken by boys who drive vans), and the evils of tanning. But wait, there’s more..! I envision many long-winded sessions during which I explain my experiences with the world at large.
Oh, boy. I’ve got some shplainin’ to do. An insurmountable amount. I can probably detail to her all of my failures, successes, and observations and it won’t amount to a hill of beans . I get that. She has to make her own way and I will have to lead by example; show her not just by my words but also actions the kind of person I hope she’ll become. For example, with my experience to guide her, when she encounters the opportunity to replace her band camp roommate’s shampoo with Nair, she might pass (that one really backfired.) Conversely, over the course of my life I have faced my fears and acted in ways that, with a little embellishment, I can be proud of and may actually be a source of inspiration for her.
I guess the next list I need to make will be titled, “Jen’s Not-To-Do List” and will start with the entry: Underestimate the power of a parent’s example.
Oh, boy. I’ve got some shplainin’ to do. An insurmountable amount. I can probably detail to her all of my failures, successes, and observations and it won’t amount to a hill of beans . I get that. She has to make her own way and I will have to lead by example; show her not just by my words but also actions the kind of person I hope she’ll become. For example, with my experience to guide her, when she encounters the opportunity to replace her band camp roommate’s shampoo with Nair, she might pass (that one really backfired.) Conversely, over the course of my life I have faced my fears and acted in ways that, with a little embellishment, I can be proud of and may actually be a source of inspiration for her.
I guess the next list I need to make will be titled, “Jen’s Not-To-Do List” and will start with the entry: Underestimate the power of a parent’s example.
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