I am quirky. That would be the word that describes me when dealing with my kids. In our house, children are heard. Sometimes, you may crave their silence, but freedom of speech is not lost at this house. I grew up with great parents, but they weren’t relaxed. I don’t remember them being silly or enjoying the opportunity to embarrass me. Maybe, it was their generation. My parental rights include being silly and possibly making them wish I would disappear.
Parenting is a serious business, but it can be fun and light, if you allow it. I think because I am a little goofy, it provides a place where I can be serious with them too. They know the boundaries and are more open to having a honest relationship.
Our environment includes lots of body noise. (Boys will be boys.) It also involves them seeing their parents as not perfect. We make mistakes and own them. I don’t remember having that open forum growing up where I was aware of my parents imperfections. We are…..imperfect. It is refreshing to be silly, imperfect, fun, serious, and encouraging all at the same time. This parenting thing is hard enough, but if I put myself up on a pedestal of perfection, then I am just going to fall off. There is no room in the vortex for me.