expectations

Our pastor talked about expectations this morning.  How we all have them and they inevitably lead to disappointment sometimes.  It made me think of parenting.  Jason and I had so many expectations coming into this gig.  So many things we thought we would do, or things we swore we would never do.  There are just so many examples to choose from…

• Formula.  I did not want Gryffin to have a drop of it.  Ever.  So I nursed and nursed and nursed and despite some obvious signs of hunger, I stubbornly refused to supplement for him.  He’s still hungry, I think.   Oh, and then he weaned himself at 8 months (hello, Isaiah!) and I was left with no choice.
• Cry-it-out?  Absolutely not.  We swore we’d never do it, we secretly judged others who had, and we read every book ever written about sleep-training.  But when Gryffin was 9 months, unbearably sleep-deprived and mildly crazy, I gave in and had the g-man cry it out.  At my parents’ house.  It was the longest night in the history of the world.  Totally worked, though.  In one night.  And I couldn’t believe I had waited so long.
• Gryffin wore cloth diapers and we were so proud of ourselves.  So high and mighty about it.  Can’t believe everyone doesn’t do it and blah, blah, blah.  But Isaiah was a different story entirely.  He has eczema and allergies and the cloth diapers were giving him these terrible rashes and yeast infections.  No problem.  We’ll find a way!  We’ll power through!  Surely they are better than those awful disposables.  Our pediatrician finally told us to get over ourselves and to put him in disposables.  His diaper issues have been fine ever since.  Go figure.

The list just goes on and on and on.  Part expectation, part pride.  Sometimes it feels like parenting has just been one big comeuppance, you know?   Lately we’ve been so baffled by Gryffin’s behavior.   The kid is so dramatic and over-the-top with his emotions.  It’s exhausting and we are constantly questioning how best to guide him through this obvious angst.  We were thinking back to about 6 months ago when we were sort of congratulating ourselves on making it through this year without much difficulty.  We’ve had so many friends tell us these crazy stories about their 3-year-old’s behavior and we had always been inwardly grateful and perhaps a wee bit smug that we hadn’t had those kinds of problems.  And now here we are.  Of course, right?  Why don’t we learn?

Parenting is about rolling with the punches.  As my friend, Louise, says, parenting is an art, not a science.  There are no hard and fast rules.  Every kid is different and you’ve just got to take it one day at a time.

The boys found my hats a couple days ago and Gryff wanted to look like Little Bill from the cartoon, so he picked this one.

Isaiah looks like he should be on Newsies (minus the flower, of course)

Oh, and Jason taught them “jazz hands”

An attempt at a family portrait last weekend

but… we could not get Isaiah to put down the Holga.

Another expectation that came to mind was the expectation that my parents are going to live for a long time.  Two of my grandparents just passed away and I’ve got one that is still living.  So I’ve sorta been assuming that they are going to be around for a good long time yet.    But my mom now has Hepatitis C.  Well, she’s had it for 33 years but only just recently found out.   And we’ve been given a lot of mixed information regarding her health.  From…

“oh, it’s probably no big thing — let’s just get a liver scan to be sure”  AND  “your liver scan looks clear — probably nothing to be worried about”

TO “well, you actually have hepatitis C from your blood transfusion 33 years ago” AND  “you need treatment, stat”

TO “you can forego the treatment and assume that it’s really slow moving and won’t affect you for a long time yet”

TO the latest news this week, “your final tests are in and it turns out you already have significant scarring on your liver.”

So this is apparently the final word.  She’s still going to forego treatment and we all agree that this is the best plan for her.  But it’s not good news, this latest result, and maybe means that her time with us is much more limited than we thought.   I don’t want to raise my boys without my mom around.   She was with us when Gryffin was born and she shares my joy as a mama more than any other person (save Jason) on this earth.   It makes me feel so ungrounded to think of life without her.

I guess it’s kind of like parenting the boys, especially Gryffin lately.  We need to enjoy and soak in the good days when we get them.  And hunker down, bear up strong, and live through the disappointment and sorrow of unmet expectations when we don’t.  It doesn’t mean that we won’t feel the disappointment keenly.  But it’s probably a little easier to weather those storms when we’ve filled ourselves to the brim with the joy and delight of the good days that have gone before.

Some other good stuff of the summer…

I got Jason a beer brewing kit for his birthday and he and Jordan have been hard at work getting their first batch going

Sanitizing the supplies.  I was glad Jordan was supervising for this!

Fermenting commenced!