Measuring Up

The sun is clearly good for the soul.  Our house was desperate for a healthy dose of vitamin-D after these last few months so we’ve welcomed the longer, lighter days with wide-open arms. 

Taking advantage of the gorgeous weather we’ve had as of late found me and Kennedy at the park a few times these last few days.  Watching my brave girl master the jungle gym as if she’s being doing it for years is bittersweet.  I’m amazed by the courage she shows at barely 3 and nearly brought to tears at how fast the time as gone.  I don’t know what it is about the park and me but I always seem to think too much while I’m there.  In any case, watching her climb up things that looked way too high and whip down slides that seemed way too big, I found myself wondering what kind of parent I’m shaping up to be.  I wanted to keep reminding her to be careful and go slow, yet at the same time tried to remain silent and fully appreciate the look of accomplishment on her little face when she’d reach the bottom of the slide, exhilarated.  I allowed myself to take a bit of pride in the fact that she already has such confidence and hoped it had something to do with how we’re raising her.

I know it’s almost impossible to ever really know if you’ve done a good job as a parent but I think we’re thrown hints every once and again; maybe an act of mercy from Someone who knows better.  When I hear Kennedy say excuse me to people in the grocery store when she realizes she’s twirled her way right in front of their cart, or when people passing by our table at the diner will tell us she was being well-behaved, those are times I think we’re doing an okay job.  Really though, that’s just good training.  Manners are great; seriously, I think they get you farther in this world than most people realize.  But for me, I’ll be looking for more than pleases and thank-yous.

I know how this probably sounds and don’t worry I’m not going all tiger-mom on my kid.  Trust me, the pressure for this lies on the shoulders of Sean and I.  So how will I measure this, you ask?  I have no idea.  If there is one thing I’m learning about parenting it’s that there is so much you don’t ever know and the art of mastering a good poker face.  I do know this though.  I want Kennedy to be kind.  I want her to be brave.  I want her to be smart.  I say smart and not intelligent because intelligence isn’t controlled but I believe being smart is.  I want her to love but know that love is rare and so to respect it. I want her to be able to recognize when she is happy in life and, perhaps more importantly, recognize when she isn’t so she can ask for help to get back to a place of peace.  I hope she will love her father and I and forgive us easily and often.  I hope she will be able remember me as a woman that smiled freely and not the one that has sadness in her eyes too often.  I hope she will look at her daddy for the rest of her life the way she looks at him now.

I think with Jack gone, I sometimes falter with what my purpose as a parent is now.  I had so many plans and goals for him.  I know I would have had no clue what I was doing most of the time, but I do know I would have fought like hell for him; to make sure he was getting the best out of this world that it could offer him.  But then I think to myself, nothing has changed in terms of that purpose.  Yes, he is not here, but his sister is and I will do the same things for her.  That fight is still in me.  Somewhere. 

So this is what I want and hope for her.  I suppose though, these things will only matter if they are what she wants for herself.  Maybe that should be the true measure for one’s success as a parent:  did your kid get out of life everything they wanted?  Not in the materialistic sense, but did they have it in themselves to know what they wanted in this world and the courage and drive to take it?  Kennedy got to go to the park, she got to have ice cream, we blew bubbles for hours, and she got the football out of the dollar bin at Target she’s been begging for the last 3 weeks; so measured against the wants of an almost 3 year old, I guess we’re doing alright; this week anyway.

I need to stop going to the park.