Growing up, I always wanted four children: a girl, twin boys, and then a girl. I just knew I’d be a wonderful parent. Then, I grew up or so I thought and had that first girl at the ripe old age of 22, my plan was taking off beautifully! She was perfect and the best baby in the world. She slept through the night at 3 weeks and was so independent and rarely cried. I just knew it was my exceptional parenting that made her that way. And before I knew it, my beautiful baby girl turned two. What happened? She was putting underwear over her head, 20 pair at a time, and flipping out of her crib. What was happening to my plan?
Then 5 years later at the age of 27, I had number 2, another girl, there went that plan. But she too was beautiful. I began noticing though that she cried every time I walked 2 feet away. She cried when the wind blew. She cried when I cried because she cried. This was NOT going well. I had one in kindergarten and one that cried all of the time.
The years passed, life moved on, and some of the crying stopped. I divorced their dad, married a horrible man a few years later, divorced him as well, and raised my two little girls all by myself by the skin of my butt. My plan had most definitely been altered, but the girls were happy, and of course, I still attributed that to my exceptional parenting.
A few years later, I met the love of my life. He was 11 years my junior and had two children of his own. He had custody of the kids because the ex was not such a good person. So now there I was with a 12 year old and a 7 year old of my own, and all of a sudden a 4 year-old-son and 1.5 year-old-daughter. We married a year later and these two were officially mine. The 12 year old had a hard time accepting a new dad, the 7 year old was happy to accept new family members and a real dad and had finally stopped crying. The 4-year-old boy child was maladjusted to say the least and spoiled beyond belief. You see dad was trying to make up for what “mom” never did. The 1.5 year old could hardly speak English-gibberish was her primary language. She was wearing little boy underwear and digging in garbage cans. Life was good!
Then, after we got marriage, we waited for 4 years and miracle of all miracles; I got pregnant with our daughter. Out came my little blue-eyed princess, the apple of all of our eyes. What that means to the layman, is that we all spoiled her so rotten that we will live to regret it forever. Then much to our surprise, 1.5 years later, I got pregnant, again, with their brother, the last of the lineage. He was my first-born son and his father and I were so proud. He was a blessing and we knew it. But who knew that the birth of a baby only 1 month after our daughter had turned two would cause such a ruckus and turn my angel into just the opposite? My childhood plan was blown.
So today, here I am, the married mother of six. I have a 21-year-old daughter that has definitely had her issues over the years, but has a job and is going to college. Still love her and she’s strong as always. I have a 16-year-old daughter that of course the world revolves around if you ask her and she still cries all of the time, which drives me crazy. I have a 13-year-old stepson that is very intelligent but so socially unacceptable it’s frightening. I have a 10-year-old stepdaughter that is so full of drama its almost comical, and she has turned into her mother that gave her up for a truck. I have a 4-year-old daughter who is ridiculously spoiled and will not listen to one single word I say. And I have a 2-year-old son that is almost as big as I am and will not let me leave the room without a major outburst of tears.
So the dreams we have as children, my visions of 4 well-mannered, well-planned children, all go out the door. It’s life and my only advice is deal with it, appreciate what you have, things could be worse! Childhood dreams are just that…dreams! Live life to its fullest and as they say, “dance as though no one is watching”. That’s what I do! Parenting is rough-deal with it!