So, three days ago I went to my very first 0 to 5 (and parents of) drop in playgroup.
I was pretty shy when I got there.
There was: a big posh community centre room. Hardwood floors and big beautiful windows.
On offer:
Instant coffee, for 25 cents.
Packaged cookies, for free.
Attending:
about 8 Mums, one Dad, and a bunch of kids.
It was interesting to see how other folks parent, to see how kids are at different ages, and to talk to other Mums about how the first year of parenting is.
Number one topic on that issue: sleep. One lovely woman, all smiles, so smilingly told me that her little 11 month old girl has been waking up EVERY 15 MINUTES for the past 4 months. All night. Every quarter hour.
She was so calm - though perhaps well medicated?
There were a few other stories of post-partum breakdowns.
But all the scary, exhausting, confused stories were bracketed by love.
Every woman said that she loved her baby, that her baby was perfect, that the baby was amazing and that she didn't mind not being able to sleep/think/speak/emote normally for months on end. And that she would, in a minute, do it all over again.
It's crazy - for whom else would we put up with constant sleep deprivation, intense emotional demands, and the occasional accidental injury (like birth)?
And, and this is also intense, to do it well, being a parent, that is, you also have to expect that your child will take you for granted. Like, if your kid was every adequately, fully grateful for all you went through, he or she would grow up to be obsessed with their parent in a pretty freaky way.
They kind of have to just expect that you will be there, 24/7, in any situation. Like air, or the ground, or the sky.
