As I climbed out of bed yesterday morning, carefully moving little legs that were tangled with mine–legs that appeared between me and Brett at some point in the middle of the night–I thought about our little family bed and how much I’m glad it’s a part of my kids’ childhood story. I know some parents have strong feelings against it, but I do know one thing–whether kids do or don’t shuffle their way into their parents’ bedroom in the night, the family bed decision isn’t one that’s going to send a 30-year-old into therapy someday. Neither is giving your child a pacifier or deciding not to send your child to preschool or saying no to the bright red double-velcro ridiculously obnoxious Paw Patrol sneakers simply because you think they’re ugly. The fact is, we will carry some regrets about our parenting, and we will look back when they’re no longer little and wish we would have read to them more, had more pillow fights, or said yes that time we said no. We will know certain heartaches our children went through were because of decisions we made, but we will also know that the heartaches we wish we could have spared them from are the same ones that shaped them into resilient, compassionate, strong adults. We do our best and know that regrets are ultimately part of the human experience, and life gives us many opportunities to make up for them. That said, there are a few trivial parenting regrets I carry with me as we’ve packed up the baby and toddler years–silly things that won’t necessarily put our kids in therapy, but ones I wish I could go back and do differently to make things easier today or to bring more joy to the early years. I thought it would be fun to share them, if not for the simple reason of sparing new moms from my regrets.

Regret 1: Not investing in the most important item in a nursery…a good rocking chair.
I was only a couple months pregnant when Brett and I went to the fanciest kid furniture store in town, and I fell in love with a crib and dresser. It wasn’t cheap, so I knocked off my plans for a nice rocking chair, convincing myself I could find a cheap one on Craigslist. I bought an inexpensive wooden one, but it wasn’t very comfortable, so it lasted a couple months before I got rid of it. I nursed Lainey from the couch or the little love seat we inherited from our neighbors, and when Nella and Dash were born I made do with wherever I could find a spot to sit with them which was often my bed heaped with laundry. Looking back, I realize how precious and fleeting those baby years were–how magical those hours of sitting and nursing were, and I wish I would have bought a less expensive crib and had the perfect chair instead. Rocking babies to sleep in a chair made just for that purpose is something worth investing in. Those chairs are where you nurse them, hold them close in the middle of the night, soothe their fevers, and read them Goodnight Moon and Runaway Bunny until they can recite the words themselves. So if you’re pregnant and starting to plan your nursery…you can jazz up any basic crib to be beautiful. Put your money where your memories will be…get the good rocking chair.

Regret 2: Bumping Nella from a crib before she was ready.
We got ahead of ourselves on this one. We moved Nella to a bed when I was pregnant with Dash because I thought making her more independent was the right thing to do, and also the little kid bed we moved her to was so darn cute. But she loved her crib. She slept so good in it, the crib was always her safe place, and there were countless mornings when she woke up babbling and we let her stay and play simply because the crib was where she was happy. Her sleeping patterns were never the same after we moved her from the crib, and Brett and I to this day mention several times a year, “We should have never taken the crib away from her.” I think we feel rushed as parents sometimes to get to the next milestone, but if I were to go back, I’d have let her sleep in that crib for as long as her heart desired. Don’t rush the milestones. Let them be babies.

Regret 3: Letting “Foods I Think They’ll Like” be my guiding force for what I introduced to them.
I poured applesauce in their first oatmeal because I thought it would be bland, I skipped over mashed peas to give them bananas because “Ew, gross,” and I didn’t think to offer avocado when they cried for something to eat because, duh, she wants a biter biscuit. I don’t expect my kindergartener to request steamed beets and a salad in his school lunch, but I know my kids would be less picky eaters if I wouldn’t have jumped to make their first foods flashier.

Regret 4: Not teaching them to pick up after themselves.
Oh, Debbie is loving this one. This one is haaarrrrrrd to go back and teach if you don’t start early. And to be honest, I never really thought about it as something you have to teach. I just picked up toys, all the time, wondering why I was picking up toys all the time. I realized late in the game that picking up after yourself should be A: modeled (okay, I guess I’m out) and B: taught. Taught looks like constant reminders: “Okay, if you’re done playing legos, you need to put them back in the lego bin before you pull out the puzzles.” Or “Could you please come inside and put your blocks away before you ride bikes?” I caught on and did this more with Dash, and it’s remarkable how much more instinctive it is for him to put things away without even thinking. His room is always clean. I wish I would have done less picking up after my kids and made them do it themselves because we’re catching up on learning now, and it’s a long, slow struggle.

Controversial parenting decisions I feel pretty good about though? Having a family bed, letting Lainey have a pacifier until she was 4, holding my babies all the damn time, introducing a phone to Lainey in sixth grade (lots of thoughts on that for another time, but so far, a few weeks in, it feels like very appropriate timing!)

Wait, I thought of one more regret, and this one’s important. Those precious baby pictures you took? That whole first year with all the milestones you managed to capture? The photos of toothless grins and cake-on-face first birthday celebrations? Are they on your hard drive? BACK THAT SHIT UP. I learned the hard way with Dash’s first year. Thank goodness for what I edited because I had backup copies in Lightroom, but I still lost a lot.

Any trivial parenting decisions you wish you could go back and redo? Dish ’em!

Oh, and a little P.S. for your weekend. I’m launching the second run of Ordinary Magic, a month long program near and dear to my heart intended to spark joy and creativity and bring purpose and community to women who are feeling a little stuck or want to take some time for themselves. You can read all about it here as well as testimonials from women who have been a part of it. This program is for women of all ages! Most participants fall between 25-55, but there are also women in their early twenties or 55+ in the Ordinary Magic crew. You’ll meet new mothers, empty nesters, entrepreneurs, artists, nurses, teachers, retireers–you name it. If Ordinary Magic calls to you, it’s right for you, and we welcome you!

Last night, as I was mashing the last lumps out of the potatoes for my shepherd’s pie, Brett and his mom sipped wine and chatted in the kitchen. Listening to people talk in my kitchen while I cook is one of my favorite pleasures in the entire world, and if there’s a heaven, it will definitely involve me chopping tomatoes with the music of laughter from my favorite people who are sitting in bar stools at a counter next to me. Also, I’ll be wearing a baby sling with a newborn. But where were we? Last night in my kitchen. The topic must have been Father’s Day which led to a question directed at me.

“Brett’s a good dad, isn’t he?” Brett’s mom asked, smiling, drawing me into the fun conversation she knew would follow.

“I’m not as good as you think,” Brett humbly argued, “I could do better in a lot of areas.”

“He’s the best,” I jumped in, stepping away from the potatoes and taking a seat on the counter across from them.

We laughed talking about what areas he could do better in–we all know as parents which areas they are, and it just so happens to work out that those areas for him are places where I hold the fort down (and vice versa).

“I mean,” I added, “my friends and family all know that if anything ever happens to me, they’re going to have to get these kids to school because it’s quite possible Brett would just home school them, and by home school, I mean skip it altogether because they were sleeping and he thought it was rude to wake them up.”

Brett laughed, “She’s right.”

“But let me tell you this right now, and this is all that matters.” I shifted my answer from Brett’s mom to Brett, “Your kids, without a doubt, know they are loved. You drench them in it. You speak fluent fatherly affection. Our girls won’t need to seek attention from boys because they’re ever lacking it from their father, and our son won’t for a second question if their dad approves of him. If there’s one thing I know our children will say about you, it’s that they know their father’s heart bleeds for them and that there’s nothing they can do to lose that.”

The marriage advice still stands that you should choose a partner based on how he loves you and not how he will love a child, but I admit I went straight for the latter because I had the unique opportunity of watching him be a father before I had my own children. That love was mesmerizing, and it’s what made me want to marry him. To this day, it is my favorite thing about him.

So, while he has zero patience for Lainey’s slime making and thinks school is overrated and kids should just live their lives playing and having fun, based on his beautiful strong points–the ones that matter–for Father’s Day, I’ve collected my favorite things about watching Brett be a dad and organized them into some a few Rules of Fatherhood for our kids here.

Show Affection.
Invite them in your lap. Wrap your arms around them. Stroke their hair. Hold their hand. Kiss their cheeks. Don’t shy away from these things the older they get. Nothing makes me happier than seeing my kids all pretzeled up in Brett’s arms, their head on his shoulder, their hands in his. And last night, as I watched Brett stand behind his 20-year-old son and rub his shoulders, almost subconsciously, I thought about how important that physical touch is–how many messages it sends to our kids as they navigate through life. Without speaking any words, those hugs and hair strokes and shoulder rubs say, “I’m always here.”

Bestow an Endearing Nickname.
Brett has special nicknames for all the kids–ones only he uses–and they’re kryptonite for all frustrating situations. I know 16-year-old Lainey will melt a little bit, even when she’s mad at her dad, when she hears him call her by the beloved nickname that says, “You’re special…even if you broke your curfew.” Brett even gives silly nicknames to all of Lainey’s friends who come over. Lainey’s friend Maggie actually corrects him if he calls her by her real name. “You mean Tina, right?”

Be Sentimental.
I’m definitely the sentimental one in the family and “talking about feelings” is a phrase equivalent to nails on a chalkboard for Brett, but when it comes to talking about our kids or looking at their old baby pictures or having conversations about how much we love them–how funny and awesome and beautiful they all are–Brett’s practically a Cryderman. We once had a date night where we were sitting at a bar drinking cold beer, tuning out a live band while we both got all teary telling stories about the kids–to the point where we had to shift the conversation away from our kids and remember there’s so much more to talk about. But these kids make him mush, and he never hides that, and I love that about him.

Be Ridiculous.
Buy them something they don’t need just because you know they will love it. Make their mom roll her eyes because you said yes to something you know she thinks is ridiculous. Break the rules sometimes to make a memory. Go ahead–order the Barbie camper. We’ll talk about it in twenty years, and it will remind me of the crazy things you do that make me love you more.

There are so many things we will look back on as parents and wish we would have done differently. But these four are covered in our home, thanks to the man I married who loves his kids so well.

Now come back tomorrow, and I’ll tell you about my own dad.

 

Happy Monday! As we prepare for Mother’s Day this weekend, I’m bringing several stories of motherhood to this space, broadening our perspectives of what other motherhood journeys look like and expanding our definition of what it means to love a mother, be a mother and honor women in our lives who have nurtured us. Whether you love your own children, someone else’s children, four-legged loves or have decided that having children isn’t something you want to pursue, we are all greatly affected by the role of motherhood with our own moms–by the pain of their loss or the impact of their presence.

Today, I bring you my own mama. While so many childhood memories are faded, what remains vivid is that my mom loved raising babies, and we felt it. It came naturally for her, and even though we were little and preoccupied with things little people think about, I can look back now with such clear awareness that my mom was loving that window in her life. There were messes and stresses, I’m sure, but what I remember most of those early days is my mom’s nurturing heart–she loved pushing strollers and baking cupcakes and planning the perfect handmade Christmas presents. She once told me that now, as an adult, every once in a while she’ll dream that we’re little again, and (warning, this next part is going to kill you) that when she wakes up and the realization comes to her that it was just a dream, she can barely breathe for a second because the clarity of how much she misses it hurts. She’s still nurturing today, never missing a birthday or a Hallmark holiday with a package full of handmade gifts.

If there’s one lesson I’ve learned from my mom, it is to take what you’ve been given and make it beautiful. I’ve seen her practice this is in the kitchen, magically transforming my shoddy we-need-to-go-grocery-shopping refrigerator leftovers into impressive 4-course meals (I’m convinced the woman can make a homemade chicken pot pie from a few rubber bands and scrap paper), and I’ve seen her do it in our home. There were times we didn’t have much money growing up, but you’d never know it from how cozy and inviting she made her spaces–sewing clearance bed sheets into curtains, lighting candles, playing classical music. She’s faced heartache in her life with such acceptance and contentment for her blessings, and that, perhaps, is her greatest gift.

I’m honored to have my mama’s words in this space today. I asked her a few questions about raising kids, and reading her answers made me not only love her more but appreciate the fact that I get to repeat her favorite treasure–raising two girls and a boy just like she did.

What has been the hardest period of motherhood for you and how did you deal with it?

The hardest thing for me was letting my kids go. When they were little it seemed like they would be under my roof forever, safe and sound, needing my care. As they became older, they began to develop friends and interests apart from family life and then ultimately they entered adulthood, leaving home and needing me less. I’ll never forget Kelle, my youngest, leaving me a message on my answering machine: “Mom, just letting you know I had a phone interview for a teaching job in Florida, I got the job and I’ll be leaving in 4 days.” After a good cry, I gathered myself and began the process of letting go. I decided it would be better for me and for my kids to let them “leave the nest” with my blessing.

What is your favorite go-to mom recipe that’s easy for a busy mom with a big family?

What comes to my mind is a simple chocolate cake I used to make frequently called a “wacky” cake. I think it was popular in the depression era because it can be made with limited ingredients, no eggs or milk! Here is the recipe:

1 ½ c. all purpose flour
1 c. white sugar
½ tsp. salt
1 tsp. baking soda
¼ c. unsweetened cocoa powder
6 Tbsp. vegetable oil
1 Tbsp. white vinegar
1 c. water

Mix all dry ingredients. Add oil, vinegar, and water and mix thoroughly. Pour into greased and floured 8 x 8 pan. (Recipe can be doubled for a 9 x x 13 pan). Bake 30 min. at 375.

What is your best advice to moms of little kids?

Love more, worry less! When kids are little, it seems there are so many demands! Some of my most vivid memories of my kids are when they were little. It is such a precious time, cherish every minute!

What is your best advice for moms during the tough teenage years?

Give them space, listen, and encourage them.

I think all three of us kids would say one of your most amazing motherhood qualities is that you love so unconditionally. You pour love without any expectation back. I know that we might all do stuff that maybe you don’t agree with, but we never feel judged, you don’t bring it up and you love no matter what. Is that hard to do and do you want to elaborate on this at all?

I think it boils down to what I mentioned earlier regarding letting them go. It’s not always easy, but I believe children respond more to praise and encouragement rather than voicing your opinions and advice about what they should do. On occasion, I think it is necessary to let your kids know of certain expectations you do have, but always in a positive way!

What was the most important thing in your home when we were little?
Balancing parenthood and other responsibilities is a challenge. When my children were young, it was a busy household with frequent guests and entertaining. It was easy to miss my children’s needs in favor of meeting ​other’s needs. But the most important thing was meeting my family’s needs, tending to my children and nurturing them.

What was your favorite thing about having little kids?

My favorite thing was making their birthdays special! I still like to do this!

What was the hardest thing about having little kids?

I guess I would have to say it was being interrupted often, not having much time for myself! But it was totally worth it!

What is your favorite thing about having adult kids?

My favorite thing is the anticipation of seeing my kids, especially after not seeing them for awhile, as I no longer live close to any of them. Interacting with them as adults is just as special now as it was when they were little!

What is the hardest thing about having adult kids?
When my kids were young and conflicts arose, they seemed easier to resolve, with solutions usually around the corner. But as my children have become adults it has been more of a challenge to navigate through disagreements and misunderstandings.

If you had to choose one parenting mantra for yourself, what would it be?
Love and support your kids with all you’ve got!

Looking back, if you could do anything differently in motherhood, what would you do differently?
I would have listened more and given advice less.

What are you most proud of in your motherhood journey?
I am most proud of who my children have become. They are each so special and unique and it has been my highest honor to be their mother!

I love my mama so much. Come back tomorrow for more stories of motherhood from some of my favorite writers and online friends sharing diverse journeys of motherhood. And if you haven’t checked it out yet, on my Instagram stories this week, I’m sharing readers’ submissions of the definition of motherhood. I’ve laughed and cried and had my heart expanded to so many beautiful interpretations of this journey. You can find all of them collected in the “Motherhood Is” button in my Instagram Highlights.