Apology not necessary, but here it is

It happened recently. I crossed over from being a child to being the parent of children. Finally! I’ve actually been a parent for 13 years and thought I had achieved adulthood long ago.

How do I know I have now officially entered the next realm? I found myself on the phone apologizing to my parents. That’s right, apologizing to the two people who not so long ago knew absolutely nothing about anything.

“I’m sorry for whatever pain and stress I’ve caused you,” I said.

Shocking! Until that moment, I’d believed that my parents were the only ones inflicting the pain and stress. I was a sweet child going about my business only to be brutalized by their obsessive parenting.

Something had shifted in my psyche. The planets had aligned. I was putting it all together.

Could it be that my parents were merely two human beings trying to make the best out of a difficult and unfamiliar situation? Could it be that they had struggled to give me the freedom to outgrow them?

Hmm, interesting.

Furthermore, could it be that my parents’ most selfless day was when they stood outside their Arizona home watching me drive away in a U-Haul bound for California? Not the 2 a.m. feedings when I was an infant. Not the money they spent during my college years.

I now walk in my parents’ shoes and I’m finding them tight and uncomfortable. I am the parent of a 13-year-old daughter who is committing the ultimate act of treason: She’s growing up.

Imagine that, after all I’ve done for her. I gave her life, nurtured her, played with her, cleaned up after her (still do), soothed her and generally handed her my heart, no questions asked.

How can she now find me so irritating and nosy? How can she look at me as if I’m nothing more than a small player in her world? I’m a modern mom. I look nowhere near old enough to be the parent of a teenager, right? I know all the current music and sing it with the appropriate oomph.

I’ve searched my memory for snippets of my own 13-year-old experience for clues into this bizarre behavior. There I was, a child of the ‘80s, pinning an obnoxious number of Stray Cats buttons on my jeans jacket. There I was scribbling notes about my newest handwriting style (with a swirl on the capital B) to my friends in class. There I was. But where were my parents?

I know they existed. They drove me and my friends to the mall. (We asked them to drop us off on the far end of the parking lot.) They cooked nice dinners for me. (I gobbled down the food before rushing off to watch Happy Days.) They lived in my house. Beyond that, I couldn’t tell you what they wore, felt or ate. It was all about me.

This thought horrifies the sensible adult I have now become.

Mom and Dad, I’m sorry for thinking I knew more than you. I’m sorry for mocking your values and experience. It’s just that I believed myself to have an uncommon wisdom about the world. As boring stooges of the domestic establishment, you could never understand my vision.

I’m sorry for brushing away your love as nothing more than controlling attempts at manipulating my life.

This is the challenge of parenthood. You give your time, your money, your food, your knowledge, your sanity, your everything to your child, and you’re glad to do it. In fact, you’re obsessive about doing it. Then, just when you feel closest to your maturing offspring, your child tells you to back off, old lady. You’ve done enough.

I know that my beautiful little girl who’s now becoming a beautiful young woman will someday look into the distracted eyes of her own 13 year old and feel a new connection to me.

When that day comes, I’ll make sure to summon all the guilt I can muster before saying, “See how it feels!”

Just kidding.

When that day comes, I hope she will understand that she owes me no apology. I am lucky enough to watch with awe and pride her transformation from child to adult. I wouldn’t have it any other way.

I’m sure my parents didn’t expect an apology, either. What had I done wrong except to grow up? Well, maybe I did a little more than that.

Regardless, I’m glad to have reached a point where I can give my parents a long-overdue tip of the hat. Now, we can begin this next phase of our relationship wearing matching shoes – not the hippest apparel, definitely snug, but also extremely warm and cozy.

Where it all began ...

Check my Links section under "Growing a baby" for a story about the growth process babies go through inside the mommy's belly. It's pretty interesting.

What's in a name?

In case you're wondering why the top of the page looks different, I'm changing the name of my blog to "Don't Touch the Cat with the Cheese!" Same address, new name.

The phrase comes from the time my daughter, then a baby, now 13, was chasing our cat around the kitchen with a piece of American cheese. I was talking to my husband on the phone and he was amused to hear me shout, "Don't touch the cat with the cheese!"

Parenting is full of bizarre moments.

Questions for readers:
1. What's the strangest thing you've ever found yourself saying to your children?
2. Which name do you prefer for this blog: "Working with Kids and Animals" or "Don't Touch the Cat with the Cheese!" I'd love to hear from the readers.

No more bars!

We're not there yet but definitely thinking about the day when we'll transition our daughter from her crib into a toddler bed. It's one of the first big transitions and it gives children such a sense of independence and pride.

Check under my Links section ("Transitions: Crib to bed") for an article about why and how to move your child from crib to bed.

More geometry in your diet

In case it wasn't confusing enough to figure out what your family is supposed to be eating, here's a little more information. The U.S. Department of Agriculture recently released a new Food Pyramid that details the building blocks of a healthy diet.

Take a look (my Links section under "New Food Pyramid").

Toddlers: The wonder years

For those of you who have toddlers, you know that there's no other age like it. Tantrums, exploration and boundless energy. It's fun. It's frustrating. It's tiring. Then it's fun again.

Check my Links section under "Toddlers" for an article about the good, bad and messy about those adorable little people who insist that everything is "mines!"

Babies gotta eat

When I started breastfeeding my daughter, I was super shy about the whole thing. We decided not to give her bottles and to rely soly on nursing, so there were many times I used bathroom stalls, the car and any other semi-private place I could find.

Let's face it, it's completely strange to whip out your breasts in a public place, even if it's done under the shield of a blanket.

After a year of nursing, I became much more comfortable and could sit in a booth at a restaurant, having a full conversation, while nursing (covered by said blanket, of course).

Check my Links section under "Bashful breastfeeding" for a story about the continuing debate over breastfeeding in public.

Question for readers: I'd love to hear your experiences with breastfeeding in public. Did you avoid it all together or adopt the "Hey, babies gotta eat!" attitude?

Thoughts on the tube

I'm not one of those people who thinks TV is universally evil (although a few episodes of "Fear Factor" will pursuade you in that direction). I happen to enjoy it.

As a parent, I try to steer my kids away from staring slack-jawed at the tube for hours at a time. Still, I don't mind if they become couch potatoes on occasion. We like to gather around a good episode of "Seinfeld" or "Everybody Loves Raymond."

I found this article that discusses the pros and cons of letting kids watch TV. See my Links section under "TV pros and cons".

Question for readers: What are your rules regarding TV for your kids? Do you limit hours? Do you put parental locks on certain channels?

More bad news about the good stuff

Here's yet another article about how bad sugar is for the body. As parents, we have to care about this. It's our job to keep our kids away from anything harmful. As sugar addicts, we know that news like this will never keep us away from a Cold Stone Creamery.

See my Links section under "Sugar".

It's that time again!

Well, it's almost time for bored and immobile youngsters to vacate the couch so they can return to their pursuit of excellence at school - or something like that.

I found a story with tips for helping children transition from summer play to schoolwork. See my Links section under "School Days".

Question for readers: What are your back-to-school rituals? Is your child anxious to go back to school or dreading the old routine?

A Mother's Pledge

I will hear more than your angry words
I will speak more than the daily gripes
I will hold you with my full arms and my entire heart
I will notice the little things that you don’t bother to mention
I will inspire you through the experience of my own life
I will step back but never walk away
I will love you more than it is humanly possible to love
I will cry when you fall, but never let my tears frighten you away from adventure
I will be braver as your mother than I ever was as a single person
I will be quiet enough to hear your heart speak to me
I will stand tall for you but never cast too long a shadow
I will make light of problems
I will laugh at myself
I will teach you to doctor your own wounds
I will be there to treat the wounds you cannot doctor
I will call myself your mother above all else
I will enrich myself so that I may encourage your dreams
As your mother, I will remain your ally to the end of time
I give you my heart and accept that you will sometimes break it
I give you my heart and know that you will always fill it
I pledge to you my everything

I hope for you all that is possible in a single life