You had one job!

It is no secret that parents wear many hats. We are a dictionary, a personal shopper, chauffer, cook, hairdresser, bank teller, the list goes on. But really, if you narrow it all down, we all have one job: To raise a human who will someday be able to survive without us.

If you had to apply for the job of parent, that's what your Objective line should say on your resume. And yet, I'm finding this to be more challenging than originally anticipated. I also feel like I take this more seriously, and pay closer to attention, due to the fact that my child is an only, and that I am as well. For children with siblings, self-sufficiency comes a little more naturally. There are times when they have to figure it out themselves, because Mommy is busy making sure the other children are still alive. Only children don't get this built-in neglect of sorts. Someone is always there to count on. 

Why get your own kite going when Dad is willing to run around like a fool?

I feel like I'm worried about this more than normal parents for two reasons:

1. I still don't survive without my parents
2. My child refuses any opportunity for independence

Let's touch on #1, for just a sec. I still need my parents, more so than I feel like other people my age do. I'm financially independent, at least, but that's basically where it stops. My mom takes care of my daughter while I'm at work, and always has. Even if I'm working from home, she comes over and keeps Trinity busy, and then tells me when I need to be done working. If we're going somewhere for the weekend and it's going to be a pain to take Guido, I drop him off at my parents'. If I'm having car problems, I call my dad. If I want to know how to cook something, I call my dad. If something isn't going quite right in my life, I talk to Mom, who usually helps me see why it's in some way my fault. If the truck slides off our driveway into the ditch, I know that Dad's standing by with his truck to pull it out.

"Let's call my dad"

 If a friend's car catches fire on our way to a camping trip, I call my parents, ask them to bring their Tahoe to the side of the freeway so we can load it up and take it for a week, and then send Dad with the tow truck that came for the broken car. You know, normal stuff.

                                    

I'd like to think it was different when I was younger, that I had some sort of drive for independence. In a way, I did. My parents never did my homework for me, or helped me apply to colleges. I came home from school to an empty house at a young age, but I can remember my best friend cutting my steak, or rolling up my sleeping bag for me, because I just couldn't figure it out.  

Cue my child, and my keen awareness of my shortcomings. I figure it will be simple, I just won't do stuff for her that I know she can do for herself. But she refuses. She's 4 now, and still has a hard time dressing herself without becoming frustrated. She really prefers to stand there like a manequin and have me do it for her. At school during dropoff, the kids have to unzip their backpacks, get their lunch and waterbottle out, put those things where they go, and hang up their backpack and coat. Getting Trinity to do this is like pulling teeth, and it's painful to watch. She's so distracted by all the other kids, and then the zipper becomes complicated, or she can't get the lunchbox out. Most times, another kid just does it for her. I'm afraid she'll never work a day in her life. I went on a fieldtrip with her class last week, and Trinity was the only kid on the bus who did not buckle or unbuckle herself. Not because she can't, but because she simply chooses not to. Other kids did it for her after I refused. She simply does not care.

She's the same way with school stuff, which may worry me more. She's a brilliant child (and I'm not just saying this because I'm her mother). She's insanely smart, but you might never know because she has no desire to show it off. Her teachers label her as "easy going," and at her conference said that's why they had no idea she was so advanced. It was only when they tested her 1 on 1 that they realized she could count higher and identify more objects in French than any other kid in her class.  If you ask her to say anything in French, she will not do it. When she doesn't think I'm listening though, I'll hear her sing French songs, and she'll speak it in her sleep. She can read books, but won't if you try to make her. She really doesn't care what you think of her, and will not do something just to please you. She gives not even 1 shit. If she could articulate her feelings about it, it would probably be something like this:

Luckily, she simply says "no thanks." Other than feeling like I'm failing miserably at my only job as a parent, I'm thankful that she's still young, and hopeful that she'll be able to buckle herself in by the time she's old enough to drive. I suppose she'll learn soon enough that you can't survive forever off of your good looks and charm (or can you?). Either that, or she'll live no more than 30 minutes from me her entire adult life and I'll be there with whatever she needs. I guess it's been working for me. 

Mother's Day hike. She just could not walk another step, so I picked her up and she promptly fell asleep.