Ain't Got Time for That!

“Mom, where are you?” 

“Mom, are you in there?” 

“Dad, I’m hungry.”

“Mom, I need new paints?”

“Dad, can I buy all my friends Christmas presents from Amazon?”

...

“Well yea, I guess I’ll pay you back.”

“Mom, can I build an XBox out of a shoebox?”

...

“Why not?”

“Dad, can I run electric to my treehouse?”

...

“It’s barely raining. I’ll just dig a line.”

...

“What’s a permit?”

“Momma, no nap! Cheeeeps (chips) eeeaaase (please)!”

“Mooooooooooooooooooooooooom!”

People often ask me, “How the hell did you find time to write a novel?”

Being a mom, wife, teacher, sister, daughter, woman, etc., I honestly have no idea what to tell them. I don’t even fully know how I’m doing this, and most days I find my subconscious curled up in the fetal position within the corners of my brain screaming, “No! You can’t make me! Don’t make me do one more freakin’ thing!” 

Yet, I soldier on.

There’s no job more important in this entire world than being a parent. Every single decision, facial expression, sigh, comment, movement  -- hell, every freakin’ breath -- is being monitored constantly by one of my three children. And they are either ignoring me completely -- like when I ask them to pick up their shoes -- or wondering: Why did she sigh like that when I said that? Why does Mom look angry? Why is my mom so goofy? Is she mad at me? Geez, I just need $20, what’s her problem? … and a series of other thoughts. 

So if you’re a parent and you're thinking, my kids are going to blame me one day for everything so I’m going to make sure I do it right. Well, good luck. 

Because no matter what you do, children complain. 

I know that sounds depressing, but anyone who’s parented long enough knows it’s true. Just take a day and listen to the people around you explain their parents. I’ve heard a million comments about parents from people of multiple age levels. We all have. Just think about it for a second. You’ve probably heard something from the following list:

My parents care too much.

My parents don’t care enough.

My parents call all the time. Ugh!

My parents never call me. 

My parents spoiled me so I don’t know how to do anything on my own.

My parents didn’t do me any favors.

My parents love the holidays and are relentless about every single tradition.

My parents skipped town this Thanksgiving and told us we’re on our own. 

I swear my parents have a favorite. 

I wish my parents paid more attention to me.

Why do my parents compare me to my siblings?

Why don’t my parents notice that I’m working so much harder than my siblings?

My mom never parented me. She just tried to be my friend. I don’t need a friend, I need a mom.

I wish my mom was more like my friend. She’s always trying to take care of me and tell me what to do.

And that’s my poem entitled “Ode to the Great Parenting Conundrum”. Haha!

So after hearing that, it seems like you can’t really win when parenting. But alas, that’s the secret isn’t it. All you can do is get up each morning and try your best.

Now ... what does that mean? Some people think it means becoming a helicopter parent, making sure each child is doing exactly what you expect of them and is taken care of perfectly every moment of every day. Some people think it means giving their children all the things they never had. Some people think it’s becoming their children’s best friend so their kids can talk to them about anything. And some people think it’s about supporting their children in everything they do to make them feel special and loved.

But all of that is true, and none of that is true. No master of all parenthood sat down at the dawn of man and bellowed in a low, epic voice, “THOU SHALT PARENT THIS WAY!”

Even religious doctrine of all kinds only gives a general recommendation on parenting filled with ambiguous words: respect, honor, love, guide, etc. And don’t even get me started on the billions of psychological studies done on parenting. The amount of research there would bury me alive, especially since I bet most of those studies were done by someone who was trying to figure out if their own parents did a good job.

So what do we do? Well, I have an idea. But I can guarantee it may change, and I’m simply offering it as food for thought… which is dangerous because a thought can be twisted, misconstrued, and tainted by the infamous grapevine. 

Alas, I shall still share.

The idea is to parent through love and by example. 

Kids are always watching their parents. 

One day I was extremely frustrated with life. Nothing seemed to be going right and no matter how hard I tried, everything just kept falling apart. So ... thinking no one was watching, I picked up a flip flop by the front door and threw it across the room, letting out a tribal grunt in the process. Ya know, one of those grunts that just makes you feel better. I’m sure it was super attractive.

Anyway, after I threw it, I watched the flip flop harmlessly hit the wall and fall to the floor. I felt a little better and got to let out some aggression. But then…

I saw my oldest watching me. She stood there in her princess pajamas with a surprised look. And me? Well, I felt like an idiot. 

Because what do adults say to a toddler who throws toys when he/she is upset? “Oh honey, we don’t throw things when we’re mad. Don’t do that again.”

Then we become adults and find ourselves throwing stuff again. Do we ever grow up? Well, that’s a discussion for another time. 

Seriously, though. Without intention, I was parenting by example … a bad example. Kids watch everything we do, and they follow what we do not what we say.

So what does that require of us as parents? It’s a tall order…

Be the best version of yourself and your children will grow to be the best version of themselves. By being the best version of yourself, you will be the best mom you can be or the best dad you can be because you’re truly yourself. And that means taking time to find out who you are and why you do what you do. 

Unfortunately, time is our greatest enemy, and adults are constantly trying to figure out who they are while teaching their children how to discover their own identity. So while we are figuring ourselves out, we are raising children. If God intended this as he did with all things, it seems messed up. Or more likely, my way of thinking about it is messed up. 

We believe we should have things all figured out before we parent -- like then we’ll be ready because we’ll have all the answers. But really what we should focus on teaching our children is how to discover their true identity by showing them how we discover ours in all different seasons of our lives. 

A person’s identity is always evolving as well so it’s a constant process, never-ending. I’m not the same person today that I was at twenty-five, and I won’t be the same person I am today when I’m sixty-five. So what do we model? I’m not sure. But maybe, God just wants us to be loving models of how to appreciate the development of human life.

Now how to find oneself…

Parents tend to get lost in their children. For me, my children’s needs come above my own every single time. So I didn’t think I had time for my own needs. But I noticed I had more time in the day than I realized. And I was spending that time just zoning out, watching some random series, and not truly living. 

I was participating in routines that left me numb. I was getting up for work, working out, packing up, eating my breakfast in the car, teaching all day, picking up the kids, driving us all home, orchestrating homework and chores, making dinner, negotiating calendars, cleaning the kitchen, and holding a one-year-old on my hip off and on the whole time. 

Then I would land exhausted on the couch each night somewhat discouraged that the next day held all the same work in the same order. And I would fall asleep. My body was exhausted, but my mind was B*O*R*E*D. 

I started to become somewhat depressed about the situation actually. I would pray on the way to work and on the way home, begging the Lord for something to change, something to liven up my life. No, I didn’t want another baby; no, I didn’t want to move; no, I didn’t want to quit my job … I just needed something. 

One day on the way to work, mind racing off a coffee buzz, I took a right in my atypical SUV in New Melle and got a glimpse of the beautiful sunrise. It was gorgeous in all it’s pink and blue hues. I felt inspired. And that day, I decided to go to work and start messing up my day on purpose. 

I sat down, looked at my lesson plans, and thought … these are stupid and boring. This isn’t fun teaching. This is safe teaching. I’d been safe teaching for a long time to survive as a new teacher and as a new mom. But I was over that stage. It was time to truly be me. So, I created projects for the students: making armor, creating board games using the floor tiles, having students mold paper mache masks, and debating with them for fun. 

I had no idea how these lessons would work. I didn’t even know if the students would like them. I just packed the year full of them. We even did a reenactment of a philosopher’s discussion and the Punic Wars. 

Some of them turned out wonderful! And some bombed. But at the end of the day, I was much happier because we were trying new things and learning in creative ways. 

One day, I decided to apply that to my life’s dreams and start writing. 

Now if you read my first blog post, you already know how that happened. So, moving on … what’s the point?

I’ll tell you what I, R.L. Dailey, discovered. Pushing myself out of my comfort zone and trying new creative things, even if they were scary, messy, or didn’t work out, made me MUCH MUCH HAPPIER! 

I started coming home, smiling on a buzz from making Middle Ages armor out of cardboard with a bunch of seniors in high school, cracking jokes, and taking time to write a chapter here or there on my breaks. 

I felt like a whole new me. I felt rejuvenated and productive. I felt like I was living, not working. And I wasn’t getting any more sleep than usual, I didn’t change jobs, and I didn’t win a million dollars (still hoping for that one, but who isn’t?). I didn’t remove anything from my life; I added something to it: creativity and a healthy dose of risk! 

The best consequence of becoming more creative? I’m a better mom, wife, sister, daughter, and teacher. By taking the time to explore who I am, I feel better about myself. I’m more fulfilled, which makes me a better mom. And my kids notice that. They see me working hard to be myself and fulfill my dreams, not just rolling over and accepting the status quo. They also see me making sure family stays the number one priority while I achieve my dreams. They’re learning from me… the good and the bad each day. 

So when people ask me, “How in the hell do you find time to write a novel?” My answer is going to be, “I just do it. It has to happen.” 

When my kids are playing outside or watching their favorite movie for the hundredth time, instead of zoning out, scrolling through social media, or listing off thousands of things to do, I pull out a notebook, and I create. 

I also try to stay open-minded to inspiration all around me, paying attention to things in nature, at home, etc. and applying them to my life. For example, the cardboard armor project was inspired by my son. I was watching him create armor out of recycling and -- boom! -- school project.

I believe God gave us abilities so we can better understand him. I believe he gave us the ability to parent so we can understand how he feels about us. Think about how frustrating we can be. When adults don’t get what they want out of life, we act the same as toddlers. We beg, cry, pout, stomp our feet, grumble, etc., but He just continues to love us just as we continue to love those big eyed, squishy faces of two-year-old's as they launch hard plastic action figures at us when we say, “No cookies.” 

I also believe God gave us the ability to create and organize to better understand the elation and love he feels for his creations… us. The more I create, the closer I feel to God, and more fulfilled I am each day, which then makes me a better person and most importantly ... a better parent. 

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