I think I have the perfect kids for me. The perfect kids for me to parent. I don’t feel equipped to mother properly, but they make it easier on me by being for me what I need: adventurous, affectionate, and self-reliant.
I hope I am for them what they need, too.
This week my boys begged me for another kid. “Ask your father,” I said, in typical mom fashion. So they FaceTimed Steve at work. “Dad, can we have a baby? Please? Pleasepleasepleaseplease.” Steve and I laughed while they begged, each of us thinking about what a bad idea it was.
Not because we wouldn’t love another kid, but because three is so much more than two. But a third kid, no matter what it was like, would still be the perfect kid for me to parent.
I don’t think any of us need to worry about having kids that aren’t for us what we need. Because instinctively, we do that for each other. Kids give you what you need and you give them what they need. I am hands-off, congratulatory, and adventurous for my kids. But is that because it’s what they need or because naturally, because of who they are, that is what I am for them?
There is this meshing that goes on between parents and children, between spouses, in deep friendships. In any close relationship, I suppose. We learn about each other and want to be for one another what is needed.
I have a friend who always hugs me. I am not a hugger. I pull away from hugs and handshakes. If you need to touch me, a pat on the back will do. But I hug her. With her, it feels right. She needs to hug me and I, in turn, need her to.
My kids are even learning about the quiet time I need. They are learning that when mama is at her desk, entertain yourselves. When she is doing yoga, don’t yell. They aren’t perfect, of course. They’re actually quite terrible a lot of times, but they are the perfect kids for me. We mesh.