Celebrating "Lasts"

As of this past December, Gerald and I have been in the parenting business for exactly 26 years. It doesn't seem like nearly that long, but indeed, that's how long it has been. By the time Seth leaves home (assuming he goes off to college at 18), we will have been parenting for 34 years. Not that parenting ends when kids turn 18; it most certainly does not. In fact, in some ways it becomes more complicated with young adults. As I've said before, my absolute favorite time of life was the three years I had all five kids home, after Seth was born and before Luke left for college.

In many ways, I'm sure we are typical parents. We think our kids are the smartest, most talented, best looking, most amazing kids ever born. We know full well we're not objective, and we really don't care. In other ways, though, we are somewhat unusual. We have always embraced a parenting style that assumes the kids, themselves, generally know best what they need. I've sometimes referred to it as “live and let live” parenting. Love them. Serve them. Make sure they know we're there for them, and then basically sit back and let them live their lives. Neither of us is or ever has been a disciplinarian. We have no idea how to do that and no real desire to learn. We tried to model self-discipline and then hoped they would each learn that for him/herself. And they did. We could not have been blessed with easier kids to raise, and though we're not nearly finished (thank goodness!), Seth shows promise of growing into a wonderful adult one day just like his siblings.

One part of “live and let live” is trusting that young children generally know for themselves when they're ready for the next developmental step and allowing them to develop at their own rate without pressure to achieve milestones on our (or others') timetable. That can be challenging sometimes when parenting can feel like a race to see whose child is first to do this or first to do that. Surely the kid who sits up first, crawls first, walks first, talks first, or is the first out of diapers is superior and more intelligent, right? WRONG. Human development is not a race. Parenting is not a race.

Along this line, I was thinking the other day about how each of our kids has his/her own personal “last.” Each reached a particular development step at an older age than all the others. Luke, for example, was the last to walk. At around a year old, he mastered crawling, and by the time he was 17 months when Shulamith was born, he was crawling everywhere, but nowhere near ready to walk. Anxious new mom that I was, I asked our pediatrician, “Is this normal?” because all around me were children much younger than Luke running around. “Absolutely!” she replied. “Walking is a neurological process, and when Luke is ready, he will stand up and walk.” And so he did. At about 18 months.

If you know Shulamith at all, you probably won't need to think too hard to discover her personal “last.” She was our last child to eat. Okay, yeah, all my babies nursed from infancy, a couple to ripe old ages, but I mean actually eat...like food. As she approached a year old, we knew she needed to get going with some solid food. At about a year, babies need a couple proteins not found in breast milk. Near the end of her first year, we started to introduce some solid foods, and guess what? She hated everything! She spit out all baby food and threw finger food on the floor. Without pressuring her, over time we found a few things she would eat, and today, she is still the pickiest eater on the planet. Whenever we discover yet another food she doesn't like, Matt jokes that of course she doesn't like it: it's not meat, peanut butter, eggs, bread, or rice.

Then there is Isaiah. If you read this post, you already know his personal “last.” He was by far the last of our kids to talk. At age three, he spoke nine words. We had a list on the refrigerator because we were so excited over all nine of them. When he went to preschool, his teacher greeted him at the door on the first day and said, “Can you tell me your name?” Isaiah replied with the sweetest, quietest little voice, “saiah.” (Isaiah pronounced without the “I”). That was the one and only word he spoke in preschool the entire year. I can't really remember when he started to talk more, but he did, at least a little bit. He is still a quiet kid although, ironically, he's an excellent writer and public speaker.

Eli holds the record in the family for the last child to wean. When I said “ripe old age,” with Eli, I wasn't kidding. I decided to let him self-wean. I know that, for so many reasons, it isn't always possible, but when it is, I absolutely believe in child-led weaning, and I love toddler nursing! Here's a funny story about Eli, well a couple funny stories actually. From the time Eli was two, I stopped ever suggesting or encouraging breast-feeding. When he would ask for milk, I'd say, “Okay, let's get you some milk” and head for the refrigerator. More often than not, this was fine with Eli, but occasionally, he would inform me, “I don't want milk from the frigerfrator, I want milk from YOU!” As is typical in natural weaning, over time Eli chose to nurse less and less often. He was about 3-1/2 the very last time. But here's the funny part. About six months after that, my visiting teacher came over with her newborn baby. While we visited, she nursed her baby. When Eli saw this, he was very curious. “What is she doing?” he asked. “She's feeding her baby. That's how babies eat. They drink milk from their mommies. You used to drink milk from Mommy, Eli,” to which he replied indignantly, “I DID NOT. I would never do that.” Short-term memory problem??

That leaves Seth. Can you guess what his personal “last” might be? I'm pretty sure it's the thing new moms fret over the most. For some reason, it can be such a sensitive and emotional issue and, sadly, can feel like the absolute definition of good parenting. What am I talking about? Yep, bathroom independence. There is this underlying (and totally false!) notion that the true indication of a good mommy is how quickly she can get those babies out of diapers. Seriously, these little people have so little control over their lives, can we at least give them this? Can we at least let them decide for themselves when they're ready to give up diapers and use the bathroom. I realize it's no fun changing toddler diapers, and I know diapers are expensive, but well, it doesn't last forever. They truly don't wear them to kindergarten. Oh yeah, how old was Seth, you are wondering. He was 4-1/2.

So while most parents celebrate their kids' “firsts,” I decided in this post to celebrate my kids' “lasts.” If my words can help even one new mom chill over one of these issues and just enjoy her child, my purpose is served.