Mom's biggest worries

I try not to sweat the small stuff (and for those of you who know me, that is a change). If Katrina gets her clothes dirty or wet, has a runny nose, or cries when she doesn’t get her way, I am not particularly bothered. If she falls down and gets a scrape, I chalk it up to being a kid. Last week during our transition meeting, we were told to expect that some toddlers will bite and that it is normal behavior for some kids to go through. I know that and it doesn’t bother me (though if she comes home with more than one bite mark from the same child, her teacher and I will be having a “tete-a-tete”). Having seen parents overschedule their infants and toddlers and start in utero with activities designed to increase intelligence, I made an early vow to try not to get caught up in all of the hoopla and to not worry if the kid next door is walking, talking, getting better grades, etc. before Kiki. With this attitude, you might suspect that it doesn’t leave a whole lot to be worried about. And you’d be wrong.

Like John, my biggest worries are about things that are beyond my control. It is easy not to freak out about the small things, because you can do research and talk to other parents and follow your gut a lot. But these are the questions that keep me up at night:

1. Will Katrina be happy? Are we giving her the tools that she needs to be confident, secure, adventerous, and responsible?

2. Will Katrina be a strong woman? How do we raise a daughter into a woman who doesn’t have her self-respect tied up in what other people think about her? How do I teach her that feminism isn’t about the militant prevention of gender roles, but rather that it is about having choices, the perseverence to follow those choices, the ability to express sentiments that “differentiate me from a doormat”? How will we teach her that no one owns her life, but her and that how she chooses to face her life is something no one can dictate?

3. Will Katrina learn that you don’t have to tear people down to pull yourself up? How will she learn to interact with her peers, with those younger and those older than her, with those with different cultures, religions, and set of values? Will she learn that the commonality of our experiences is so much greater than our differences?

4. Will Katrina learn that it is her responsibility to leave the world in a better way than how it was left to her? Will she realize that being active in the community is both a civic and moral responsibility, no matter how hard that is at times? Will she learn that while she can’t solve all of the world’s problems, she can share its burden and find ways to lessen that burden?

5. Will Katrina learn the importance of taking care of herself – physically, emotionally, financially, and spiritually? Will she know the difference between strengthening herself and being selfish?

6. How much of Katrina’s personality is inherent and how much of it will be molded by the experiences and examples that John and I set out for her?

John and I joke a lot that we haven’t broken Katrina – yet. But within that joke, lies a fear that we will not give Katrina something vital that she will need to survive and to survive well. We are not talking about a pricey education or the latest in educational software or a trip around the world. We are not talking about sending her to the best sport camp or giving her expensive music lessons. We are talking about something much more basic than that. And perhaps that is what my worries all boil down to – something actually within my control, something very self-reflective, something about the inner core of my character. Can I be the parent that Katrina needs me to be?

I don’t think that there is actually an answer to that question. Sure, I can do the comparison trick and say confidently that I won’t pull a Britney Spears or abuse my children the way person X did, but it isn’t about a comparison. It is really a singular entity between a parent and a child. All I know is that I will be the best that I can be and I pray that that will be enough. Perhaps that is one of the reasons that no matter the age of your children, you will always worry about them. They are both independent of you and an extension of you and because their life continues beyond yours, you feel a passion to protect them that far exceeds what you feel for your own life.

It is often told that the children are the future of the world, and it has always bothered me. It is as if we are removing the burden from our shoulders and giving it to them. I much more prefer the idea that we are our children’s future. And that is my worry – that I may fail to give Katrina a better world in which to live and the resources to draw on when faced with adversity.