Parenthood

spots-bump
Originally uploaded by neonangel.

3 friends of mine are having babies at the same time - SpotstheBear, Tenuvil and SheofTheUnpronounceableName. MrBear took this shot of me staring at the bigness of MrsBear's bump.

I wonder what kind of mother I would be. Would I live up to my own ideals of godly parenting - ever supportive, cultivating etc? Would I find the time to slowly teach my kid not just how to love God, love others but throw in some funky art, lit and cooking lessons into the mix? Or would I just degenerate into becoming a naggy shouty, caning harridan?

For that matter, given my swinging (*koff*) single status, I wonder whether I will have the chance to find out. :)

Part of growing up into adulthood has been the recognition of how difficult and thankless a task parenthood must be. Growing out of adolescence and walking closer to Christ has helped me to understand the need to treat my parents with more grace, more love, less blame.

For a short time last year, struck by guilt that I was not putting my money where my blathering mouth was concerning Christian service to the community, I started tutoring at ChildAtStreet11. This was a month or so before I got hooked into the whole youth consultation exercise.

It was a cool little latch-key centre for children from poor, single parent families. The centre in effect was playing parent to these kids in their crucial growing up years where their real parents could not afford to because of pragmatic bread-butter issues. Most kids had a father stuck in rehab or prison and a mother who was working horrendous hours as a cleaner or checkout aunty etc. blue collar maximum hour minimum wage job.

From 10am to 1pm, I did a standard routine with my attached kids - check if they did all their school homework, order them to rewrite sloppily done corrections neatly, try hard to teach new things, make sure they bathe, scould them if they play with water in the bathroom, sit down and eat lunch with them ensuring they finished everything, talk to them about school.

It took me a while to realise I was not their tutor. I was their part-time, makeshift mother. And the mother routine was at times mundane, the kids sometimes got irritating in their slowness to grasp apparently simple concepts, the kids could also get nasty when they could not get their way.

I remember being frustrated at one kid's slowness and saying to her, "I repeated this 5 times already, are you listening or not?" The swift way in which hurt shaded her eyes and turned her away from me was really heart-breaking. It took quite a lot of apologetic explanations, bribery and coaxing to earn back her favour and trust.

It was a real tiny insight into the toughness of being a consistently fair, firm, loving parent.

But more than that, I realised that somewhere along the line, my parents did all that for me and for the life of me, I cannot recall a single bit of it. All that crucial foundational building stuff they did was just too mundane and banal to sear themselves into my little childlike brain.

Brush your teeth. Don't cheat on your tests. Don't anyhow spend money. Spell "Cat". 2 + 1 = 3. Cannot quarrel with Korkor. Say hello to Uncle, Aunty. Check if next week got test to study or not. Got problem must tell!

Somewhere they did all that. And without that, I would not find myself doing all that I do today. It's quite poignant to think of all that effort gone into my life even before I understood or appreciated it fully.

It's a reflection of our relationship with God our original parent as well.
How very 1 Cor 13 - "Now I know in part, then I shall know fully even as I am fully known".

I may not have the most perfect of parents. But I have parents who cared enough to bring me up to a good 28 years of life, and teaching me the most banal things that I take for granted. That is enough to be grateful for. The rest of what they have done for me is icing on the cake.