Claire Revisited

A friend emailed me recently asking about an older Claire-at-her-finest post. She had looked through my archives but had trouble finding it. She had a friend with a Claire-like child and she wanted to forward the post on as a way to comfort her friend. Hoping that by sharing, her friend would realize there are others in the world struggling to raise a Claire. And while there was the how-much-of-Claire's-poster-child-for-disaster-was-caused-by-my-parenting-missteps thought, I was ultimately glad to be of some comfort to another weary mother.

I found the post she was referring to. It still makes me crazy. I'll re-post below for your, um, amusement?

The Road Less Traveled

Originally posted May 6, 2009

Years ago, after Mark had gone through all of his training and was officially a sworn officer ready to hit the streets, I asked him what he was most nervous about. His answer made me realize he was a perfect fit for the job. Instead of saying one of the many fears tumbling around in my head (say for instance, getting killed in the line of duty), he said he was afraid he would get lost while responding to a call. Because he was a transplant from Alabama, it was a challenge to work the streets of a city he had lived in less than 2 years.

We were childless back then and had ample free time (which was taken for granted and never realized until AFTER we had children. Ah, hindsight). We used that time to drive the streets for hours, trying to familiarize him with Boise's layout. He has been on the force almost 8 years now, and those days of aimlessly driving the streets of Boise are a distant memory. He now knows the streets like the back of his hand.

Or he did, until yet another subdivision popped up. You see, Boise is ever changing. Constantly growing. New houses being built on newly paved roads. Just when he thinks he has been to a call on every street in the city, he is summoned to a house on a street that Map Quest has never heard of, and his trusty map book can't guide him to. You can never master a changing city.

The same can be said about parenting. I have been a mother for almost 5 years now (seems like just yesterday I was carrying my little bambino in my womb for 43 horrible, exhausting weeks-no me and pregnancy do NOT get along). I have changed incalculable amounts of poopy diapers, had my REM cycle interrupted a ridiculous number of times and made hundreds of boxes of mac and cheese. And just when I think I have it all figured out. Just when I am beginning to have hope that my children might make it to see kindergarten. Just when I have memorized every street on this journey through parenthood, Claire goes and eats toilet paper. After she has wiped with it. And she swallows it. While I throw up a little in my mouth.