Motherhood- Art or Science?

I was asked today if I thought I was a confident mother?  Like do I exude confidence?  Or am I confident in my mothering?  Both I think.

Motherhood is more of an art than a science, I think.  There are so many right ways of doing everything in parenting.  Cloth or disposable?  Breast or bottle?  Attachment parenting or schedules?  All these kids are going to end up just fine.  And the variety of options (although staggering) makes for unique children, and unique choices.  Not only for families, but within them too.  It makes the days and weeks and months of sure-fire monotony more bearable when you can exercise creativity in your decisions.

There is no one right way to get your child to love vegetables.  What works one day probably won’t even work the next.  It changes and I love that.

Some useless Julie trivia: when I was in high school I was captain of my girls’ flag football team.  I was a reasonably good player, had played for four years, and showed strong leadership skills.  An obvious choice probably.  Anyway, if I learned anything from my coach (besides how NOT to get caught embezzling company funds, or why stirrup pants went out of style, or that teal is not a good colour on a minivan- period) it was this: when you look good, you feel good, and when you feel good, you play good.  Ignoring the tic-worthy grammatical faux pas present in that statement, it is a good message.  When I act like I am a good mother, then I feel like I am a good mother.  And when I feel like a good mother, then I am one.  End of story.

I know that not everyone subscribes to this theory.  I know that some people can “fake it” their whole lives and never make it.  But not me.  In fact, I can put on such a great outward showing that I can fool even myself.  That may come back to bite me when my kids are grown, but it is a risk I am willing to take.

Risk management is essential in turning out well-adjusted kids, in my oh so humble opinion.  Keeping our kids locked up may ensure that they are not randomly kidnapped by a stranger (and how likely is that, really?), but it most certainly will contribute to them dying of a young age of obesity-related heart disease.  Or stress-related suicide secondary to not knowing how to handle themselves in unfamiliar situations.

I don’t have a baby gate at the top of my stairs, because I figure the risk of Josselyn falling down the stairs is less than the risk of Holly or Bronwyn falling down the stairs when they attempt to climb over said baby gate.

That being said, the drain de-clogger is in a place not even I can easily access.

So, am I a confident mother?  I could ask you, but I don’t need to.  I can say I am a good mother, with conidence, because at the end of the day, the only people I need to convince, are me, Bruce, and my kids.  And they won’t even realize it until they have kids of their own anyway.