When Catie took this picture of Mike and me, I thought it would turn out pretty good. We felt strong, outdoorsy, and happy and I assumed we looked that way too. Later when I uploaded the picture, I saw we actually looked tired, old, and spacey.
Isn’t this true for life, too? Especially in parenting. I’m doing the best I can, I’m hopeful I’m meeting my kids’ needs, and then–BAM–something sneaks up on me I’ve totally been missing. I recognize a blind spot in my best mothering intentions.
I get glimpses of these blind spots at Parent/Teacher Conferences or when I talk to other parents. “Really? She talks constantly to her friends, all day long?” “What do you mean you give your child a bath every single night?” “You mean most parents don’t sit in their kids’ room until they fall asleep?” “Your child has been doing sleepovers since she was four?” “Your kid does her homework all by herself?” “Your daughter makes her own breakfast?” “Your child ALWAYS wears a helmet?!” “Your kids get to chose if they go to church?”
One day these parenting blind spots will be more serious. “You let your teenagers drink wine with dinner?” “You pay for their cell phone?” You’re okay with pot?” “Really? An 11:00 curfew?” “A Mercedes for a 16-year-old?” “Your teenagers have to clean the whole house?”
Maybe these aren’t blind spots as much as differences in parenting. Maybe these are the natural influences that come with my history, my kids’ personalities, both of our hang-ups about stuff, and what Mike and I believe to be right and true. Maybe our own best intentions about parenting seem like blind spots when we compare them to someone else’s best intentions. Maybe the same goes for this picture. Maybe this picture just seems like a blind spot when I believe I still look 22. It’s less of a blind spot and more of a wake-up to reality.
I suppose the solution is the same, both in middle-age appearance and mothering. You’ve got to accept the blind spots. You’ve got to realize you might be raising your kids just right, or a little off in some areas, but you are doing the best you can. What might be a sacred rule in our house is out-of-the-question in another. You’ve got to look in the mirror, or at the bad picture, and admit this is where you are at.
I’m trying to get better at that. Because once I realize I have blind spots, I can be more gracious with other moms and their blind spots. They are trying the best they can. They are just doing what they know. They, too, are a result of their hang-ups, histories, and beliefs.
If I forget that, I have this picture to remind myself. Just when you think you’re rocking life, doing it all right, you see a picture of yourself and remember your blind spots.
And your tired, wrinkly eyes.
