Punk Rock Parenting?

The truth is: it's hard to be badass in bunny ears.  I can't say I'm a "Punk Rock Mom,"  because, well, I don't know what the hell that entails. Plus, I'm not big on labels. I am a mom. I listen to punk rock music. I swear, a lot.  Sometimes I dye my hair funny colors. That still just makes me mom I think.  The truth is, if I think of "punk rock parents," I think of drinking beer, and loud music, dirty houses, beating the kids, lots of swearing. It's a bad stereotype. I think it's probably those situations that lead to punk rockers more then it's those situations we create. (Not mine, no alcoholic, child beating parents in my past. Though, there was some swearing)  Though, the dirty house part we have covered. (Don't judge me)

I don't do attachement parenting. I'm not against attachment parenting. (I'm really not against much that other parents do to their kids, as long as it's not life threatening or illegal) Actually, I was all prepared to attachment parent. I'm a pro breastfeeding, pro co-sleeping, pro-baby wearing, pro-baby food making, cloth diaper loving, organic buying, hormone free milk fanatic mom.

The problem I ran into with these things is that; my son was not into them.  Both my kids were born at 34 weeks, both were full term babies, but in spite of that spent 2 weeks in the NICU. (Neonatal Intensive Care Unit - where all babies go before 35 weeks)  By the time they got out, neither wanted anything to do with breastfeeding. Hellion actually gagged and spit out breast milk, even if it was given to her in a bottle. (spitting is not something 2 week old babies are supposed to be able to do)

Co-sleeping was another thing Demon refused. He always slept better in his own bed, in his own room. He still does. I'm not sure if it was the NICU time, or if it's just his personality. Plus, he was always a loud sleeper. He "talked" in his sleep from the day we brought him home. He couldn't sleep while it was quiet though. We had to leave a light on for him, and background noise. I played Drop Kick Murphy's for I'm to fall asleep too. Hellion, well, when she showed up she co-slept for a little bit. She moved into her room pretty quickly though. Move because my husband couldn't fit in her crib, and the three of us didn't all fit in our bed then anything else. She's pretty easy going.

I did actually wear both of my children when they were young. It's easier hands free, and they slept better then in the stroller. I only wore then when we went out though, I didn't wear them around the house. We used cloth diapers. (Really, they rock, if you've considered it you should look into it. It's easy and, in the end, so much cheaper)  We buy organic when we can, and don't stress over it otherwise.  And, really, just buy hormone free milk. Don't make me get into it.

I will admit to being "crunchy" if we get into that discussion. I'm against helicopter parenting. I think my kids need to learn how to fall (though I prefer it when there's not blood involved) and fail, and get up and go on anyway.  Now, I've said that, this is my opinion of what I do with my kids and why. I don't care what you do with your kids, as long as they're not being assholes to my kids.

When it comes to my parenting style though, I don't think of myself as an attachment parent, or a crunchy parent, and certainly not a helicopter parent. I don't exactly think of myself as a "normal" parent either. (which is sometimes how people refer to it - extreme parenting, vs normal parenting. Now tell me that doesn't lead you to believe one is better then the other?) I tend to think of myself as an "Eye of the Tornado" parent.

There's one mommy blog that I follow. I love her, I love her blog, I love what she does. I'm not going to tell you which one it is though, because I'm going to disagree with her.  (not because she's wrong. Just because I feel differently about it. She is right, she feels how she feels. My experience is different, and I just think of hers in relation to mine. How different the experiences can be) She refers to being a mom as being a religious experience. As something divine, and wonderful, and earth moving. (I won't argue with the earth moving.)  My perspective on mommydom is different. Sometimes I feel bad that it doesn't feel like a divine religious experience to me.

Have you ever seen the movie Twister?

This is what parenting feels like to me.  You make your choice, and then you hang on for all you're worth and hope for the best.  You hope when the storm is passed, and there is a calm break, that everyone is still there and that you're all alright.  I hope that if I hang onto my children strongly enough, that if I love them strongly enough, in the end we will all be ok. Despite any mistakes I have made, or will inevitably make. Despite tantrums, arguments, fights, screaming matches, spankings, dragging screaming children out of stores, off rides, and away from friends, despite being hit, and kicked, and bitten, ignored, and ridiculed, that in the end I have gotten enough right, and have loved them enough for what I got wrong, that we're all still standing. And I'm just getting started. This only the beginning. That tornado comes back around daily, sometimes hourly, and I grit my teeth, brace me feet, and concentrate on holding on until the eye of the storm comes again and we get a short, calm, reprieve from the madness.

At the end of the day I'm pretty sure that's about how I look. My house, without fail, always looks like the barn just laid to waste in the movie. Every night I pick up, tidy up, clean up, and we start all over again the next morning. Eye of the Tornado Parenting: Hang on and hope for the best.