By me.
I'll try to keep it short and simple, since sometimes I really do think I could write a book on the subject of parenthood.
But there are already plenty out there.
I'm an expert at almost nothing, but that's not to say there are not things I don't do well. Even things I do very well, I wouldn't claim to be an expert on - just because that's the way I am, you know?
I can paint a wicked dresser or a dresser wicked, and maybe use clever wit like nobody's business.
However there is always someone better at or more learned in the things I do well, and claiming to be an expert at any of them seems boastful.
So not being an expert, it's hard for me to be boastful on things I might be good at.
With the exception of one thing.
Being a mom.
On that I boast here and now.... I am an expert.
I've long thought it, but would never actually admit I did. For gosh sakes, aren't experts suppose to always be right about whatever it is they are experts about, and everything they do turns out, well... perfect and expert like?
My credentials are hung on the wall. Collages of hand made art work made specifically for me on Mudrs Day. Mudrs Day from a certain 6 year old who spells the way he speaks.
And while my credentials didn't come from any famous University, they did come from my toughest critics.
Six of the harshest critics who know my expertise inside out...... #1 son, #1 daughter, #2 son, #2 daughter, #3 son and #4 son.
Which adds up to six.
I'm sure I gleaned tidbits of information here and there from books. My two favorites are oldies, very oldies, that were passed on to me.
Those books don't deal with things like violence in school or limiting the internet, because both were unheard of when the books were originally written.
It's the basics, just the basics.
And the basics seem like a good place to start on the unintended road to being an unintended expert.
1. Children Are Wet Cement
I don't know if the current version is the same as the 30 year old one I was given. Parts stuck with me, and not only about my own kids, but about the way I treat other peoples kids. All these years later I should go back and read it again, just to see what it was that made an impression on me.
2. Making Children Mind Without Losing Yours.
This book too is in reprint, but the one I read was a 30 year old edition. I have no idea what it's about anymore, I just remember thinking the suggestions seemed realistic - and maintaining my sanity was a top priority.
I probably read other books from time to time, and of course magazine articles, but knowing me I also "filed" most advice in the round bin.
Saying I'm an expert at this motherhood gig doesn't mean I'm saying it always goes smooth, that I am a perfect mother, or that my kids are perfect.
Far from it, in fact those many imperfections are what taught me, the imperfect is how I gained my expertise.
It is said you learn more from your mistakes......
My kids like to point those mistakes out to me.
Of course I'm not the only expert out there, but I am the mistress of my own domain.
The six critics can heckle me all they want. The proof is in the pudding.
I don't mind if they "lovingly" point out my shortcomings, or where I made mistakes, because as I look right back at them I'm reassured I did more right than wrong.
I get heckled about facts like; there is sugared cereal now in the cabinet. The older ones think that means the younger ones are spoiled. I hate to tell them it really isn't that well thought out, it just means I buy what's on sale sometimes now.
Or maybe it means I no longer care what someone might think if they see a box of evil Frosted Flakes in my shopping cart.
With age comes wisdom. (And sometimes lack of).
I'm wise enough not to buy Frosted Flakes often, but I have the wisdom now that I don't really care what anyone thinks of my parenting if I do.
I like to believe it wasn't the lack of sugared cereal that caused the older kids to turn out well.
Certainly I had great dreams of what my children would become by using the talents they have, but really there was only one thing I truly wanted out of life for them.
To be happy.
That's the goal I set out with for each of my harshest critics.
So when they heckle me and "lovingly" point out where I went wrong with what I fed them, or the rules I set, it really doesn't matter much to me.
I met my goal.
Happy Mothers Day to all moms fumbling through the process.
I hope you meet your goals too.
Better yet, I hope your kids are pleased you met those goals.
In the end it really only matters what your harshest critics think of your expertise.
