A First

Yesterday was the first day of 5th grade for my daughter and a first for me because I didn't cry. The first day of school will probably always be a bittersweet mark of how quickly time passes and sigh of relief at having a bit of time to myself. Yesterday, however, I felt ready to say goodbye to the curious mix of tween my child has become for the seven hours she attends school.
She wasn't too excited to go but that's part of tween angst, it is the beginning of the, "this is boring and unnecessary" era. Worldly-wise, at the cusp of double-digits she vacillates between wanting to sleep with me and bemoaning the evil task-master (according to her) that I am. She wants to play with dolls but is eager to score her own you tube account. She yearns for the freedom of independence but doesn't want the responsibility. And that's the rub. There are too many people in the world that do not understand freedom comes responsibility and that it isn't all bad.
The honest truth is that I really don't enjoy being a parent. Please don't think for a moment that means I regret having my crazy tween or that I don't love her with every fiber of my being. It simply means that I find the day in and day out of parenting to be pretty unsatisfying. There, I said it. Go ahead and judge! I feel incredibly exposed and judged as a parent, constantly telling myself I am doing the best for myself and my family amidst what I feel is the ridiculousness of the world. More importantly, trying to relax into and trust my judgement but it is so challenging. The work put into raising a decent human being and the appreciation for the effort are not compensatory.
Speaking of compensation, I think kids have too much of everything: toys, clothes, experiences, food, you name it. My child is no exception but we do try to temper the nonsense. My husband and I have a one thing in, one thing out policy that we work hard to adhere to. We try not to over schedule our kid while still attending the occasional birthday party, acting lessons and school functions. I make a solid effort to send her to school with a nutritious but not embarrassing lunch. Her eating habits become pickier during the school year and she regularly laments that so and so has or does so much more than she.
In speaking with other mother's, most talk about how much they don't like entitled kids, over-the-top birthday parties, picky eaters and so many toys they feel the walls closing in on them. Often people are quick to give advice but rarely are we teaching what we're preaching. We can't just complain without actual change and to an extent, we need to effect change together.
While I am not interested in being just like anyone else, the notion of a village, or at least a community to raise children makes sense. Maybe the village appeals to me because I don't have family in proximity and I often feel that I am on my own. Maybe I am tired of feeling like the odd one out in my parenting strategies. Quiet possibly my over-developed sense of responsibility, understanding of long-term health consequences (both physical and psychological) of habits formed in childhood, combined with mommy guilt and an innate sense of  not good enough play a role? I suspect it is a combination of all of those things.
In spite of all that, as well as the juggernaut of fundraising (separate rant) that I will soon be bombarded with, I was okay with her return to school. Because I really do understand the appeal of short-term resolution and who knows? Maybe all of the conversations we have had about how she will always have more than some but not as much as others will finally sink in. If her apology last night for badgering me for extra television time is any indication, I think it will. Those are the moments that keep me going when I think about getting in the car and running away. That sweet smile of hers and a glimmer of hope is the fuel I need to get through the next round of emotional roller coaster rides.