Crappy Things My Kids Have Learned from Me

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I'm a good mom, really. I have figured out how to really be there for my kids, I've informed myself, I love and enjoy them, and I'm raising some gorgeous humans. But I'm also a bit of a mess and I've made about a zillion mistakes. While I've taught them math and writing and geography and coping skills and cooking and car care and political awareness and love for humanity I've also taught them some pretty crappy stuff.

Here's the First of the Crappy Stuff

For example, normal in my existence for as long as I can remember, my sleep patterns are truly abnormal in the world. Regardless of my hemisphere I sleep best during the day and I wake best at night. I've taught my kids this same pattern. How will this help or hinder them in their lives? I truly don't know.

Both of them can and do function normal hours anytime they need to, but their preferred hours are the same as mine. I have held many daytime jobs successfully and they have both done so as well. But it's a potential disadvantage, surely, just as it was for me. Elizabeth has been going to school and work and has kept daylight hours for about two years now, but I know that her nocturnal pattern will reemerge at some point. 

The Second

I say fuck.

I taught my children very early on that their word choice is up to them, that people will judge them for the words that they use and that it is within their right to say absolutely anything. If you say this then you have to absolutely mean it because your offspring will definitely push every envelope. I have heard so may words come out of their mouths that have shocked me. But I have also heard the most beautiful words and thoughts come out of their mouths...

Fucking beautiful stuff that makes it all worth the risk, worth the learning curve, worth the challenge of true, uncensored communication.

And Finally

I genuinely dislike cooking and I would prefer, any day, to go out to eat. It is far more costly to eat out, it is lazy, it is healthier to eat at home, it is more convenient to eat at home, and my husband would prefer it. But I go out several times a week. I sometimes think I dislike cooking so much because I became the family cook when I was twelve years old and my mom left the house, but I'm pretty sure I would still be allergic to the kitchen had that not happened. And my kids learned to think go out to eat when they are hungry.

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I am pretty tidy. I serve generally healthy foods. I bathe regularly. I keep gas in the car. We're generally good. But I'm super imperfect. 

You probably are too. 

I refuse to feel bad about this stuff. I mean, life is weird and wild and beautiful and compelling and inconvenient. Jerry and I have created an imperfect little life. Not flawed, not incomplete, not schlocky, not subpar, not broken. Just imperfect and wonderful and lovely and ours.