Home > Parenting > Consistently Inconsistent

Consistently Inconsistent

If I were to pluck a parenting book off a shelf, I’d wager there’s something between those pages about the importance of consistency. As in, you should react roughly the same way in similar situations. As in, the same rules should roughly apply for each member of the family. Roughly, right?

It sounds simple on paper, yet is astoundingly difficult in practice. When it comes to parenting, the only thing I am consistent about is being inconsistent.

I ruminated on this when I woke up clinging to the edge of our king size mattress, as my seven year-old lay stretched out like a snow angel in the middle of the bed, and my husband clung to the opposite side. We had been militant about not bringing our first and second children into our bed, lest it become a habit. Yet our third child lands between our sheets on a nightly basis, and we barely bat an eye. (We were right about one thing: it is habit forming.)

We barely recognize ourselves, and hardly know how we got here. Are we simply too tired of resisting? Are we susceptible to her status as our baby? Or have we simply relaxed our views on co-sleeping? Probably a little of each.

When my oldest child was two, I enrolled her in swimming lessons, gymnastics, preschool, and skating lessons. For the skating lessons, I recall dressing her like she was about to summit Everest, and then watched her crawl – CRAWL – around the ice with a marker in her hand, colouring on the ice, for twenty minutes. The dressing up and dressing down took longer than the lesson itself. It was ridiculous in so many ways,  but to be fair it was as much about me getting out of the house than about her learning double axels.

In comparison, my third child has recently taken her first set of swimming and skating lessons at the tender age of seven, and only because she begged me. The reasons for this one are more obvious: I’ve learned that until a certain age, these activities are useless, and I’m already too busy driving my other children around.

These are just the tips on my parenting iceberg. There are so many other examples – I can’t recall one time I have punished kids number two and three beyond telling them not to do something. Yet my first child has had so many time-outs it rivaled her time-ins. We have reels of videos of our oldest saying her ABC’s before she was two, but I had to give my second child a crash course on them the day before she started kindergarten.

With each child I’ve birthed, my parenting persona has done a triple toe loop. My over-bearing grip loosened with my second child, and then relaxed almost completely with my third. I’m inclined to blame it on my laziness, but I see it happening in families around me as well: generally speaking, parents chill more with each passing baby.

I once read a book about how your birth order affects your personality, suitably titled Birth Order and You (there was no chapter about being the ninth child, however, so no clues into my own quirks and oddities – judging by my own parenting, it’s amazing I was even named.) Otherwise, it was strangely accurate in its depictions of oldest, middle, youngest, and only children – I recognized a few of my siblings, and lots of my friends, in its characterizations. It’s fair to assume these personality traits are borne from the expectations and treatment by their main influences, their parents.

So I’m part of a predictable trend that creates headstrong firstborns, peacekeeping middle children, and smart but spoiled youngest children. (As my baby hogs my pillow, I detect a slight smile on her slumbering lips, and although my shoulder is killing me, I don’t dare change positions in the event that I wake her.) At least there is comfort in numbers.

Do you fit the birth order stereotypes? And if you’re a parent, have you unwittingly changed your tactics as your herd has grown?

Advertisements
  1. Mel
    March 27, 2012 at 1:16 am

    I am laughing out loud! Home run! So True!!! And we are years behind you (you may recall the eldest is 7 followed by 5 and 3). …# 3 is regularly in our bed …# 1 was never allowed… # 2 did make it in every now and then…but # 3 is trying to crawl in EVERY night. And its true about the activities as well…….I love this blog! So well written – and so accurate!. xoxo Mel

    • March 27, 2012 at 7:53 pm

      Yet I always promised myself I would treat them the same – what do they say about the best-laid plans, again?

  2. Jennifer Worrell
    March 27, 2012 at 2:14 am

    Good Lord–my one-year old has to ask me for a diaper, and he’s trying his hardest to figure out how to change it on his own. He’s # 4 after my two stepchildren (been with them since they were six and eight, and they are now in college) and my four-year-old daughter. As far as sleeping arrangements, well, my husband and I have it all to ourselves so far. Love your blog!

    • March 27, 2012 at 7:54 pm

      I’m sure the independence it breeds is good for them in the end, but at your little guys rate he will be driving YOU to activities!

  3. March 27, 2012 at 10:14 am

    This post is hysterical. Love the ice-skating paragraph–too damn funny.

    Just be glad it’s not the dogs you’ve invited into your bed. Sara and I cling to the edges of ours while the dogs stretch out sideways across the middle. It’s sad.

    Hugs,
    Kathy

    • March 27, 2012 at 7:58 pm

      You see, my children ask me for a dog regularly, and I tell them that’s why we had your little sister – she is part pet, part child, so fitting that she ends up in the middle of our bed, as Lucy does in yours. See the symbiosis?

  1. No trackbacks yet.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: