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Family Values

There has been a lot of talk lately about types of mothers.  Are you a Tiger Mother?  A Western Mother?  A Wimp Mother?  All of the talk, the criticism of mothering-types, and the declarations of values led me to wonder where I fit on the spectrum.  What values am I imparting - consciously or unwittingly?

At the beginning of the process, I have to admit that I wondered whether I actually had any values to articulate.  Frequently, especially at the beginning, I felt like I was not making values-based decisions but was just getting by.  (See e.g., I describe myself as a momma in training -- not a woman in charge -- and certainly not a woman with a clear set of values guiding my parenting decisions).  Then I realized that I had spent a lot of time thinking about my motherhood through the lens of my childhood.  My own feelings about what I liked (and probably more about what I didn't like) about growing up informed a very substantial part of my approach to parenting.  Last, and on a less myopic note, I looked to friends' choices and the advice I could read in the limitless variety of parenting books, magazines, and - yes - blogs.

When I told my husband about this post and my values-evaluation, he told me that the following are his sources for his parenting values [and I believe that they are in order of importance]:  
  1. Ninja movies; 
  2. Survival shows [e.g., Man vs. Wild]; and 
  3. America's Test Kitchen.
So we have all that going for us, which is nice.


thank you

Baby woke up too early for us one morning last week.  We pulled him into our bed hoping to lull him back to sleep with a spell cast by our own exhaustion.  Baby was not lulled, he was ready to play.  We tried to ignore him.  We tried to snuggle him into quiet-time.  Soon Baby had his head on my belly and his feet on my husband's belly.  Then I heard a little voice in the dark: Baby saying his version of "thank you."  Over and over again.  I know his understanding of those words is rudimentary, but I like to think that Baby was thanking us in advance for waking up and playing with him before the sun was officially above the horizon.  So you're welcome, Baby.  You are always welcome, my little goofball.