When my firstborn was just three weeks old, I found myself on the phone with my lactation expert. “Is it, um, typical for him to cry for hours?” I asked, feeling a mix of concern and confusion. After a brief pause, she simply replied, “No, that’s not normal.” And that was it. No further explanation, no tips on how to handle it—just that stark response left me feeling as though I had somehow failed my child. My baby wasn’t “normal.”
This experience marked the start of my complicated relationship with the term “normal” in parenting. “Please tell me this is normal,” my friends and I often say to one another, with an underlying urgency. What we’re really probing is whether we’re doing things right, if we might need to consult a pediatrician, or if we’re just overreacting. Is this behavior just a phase, or something more serious?
I strive to be a confident parent, but navigating parenthood today is no easy task. I often find myself envious of my mother, who seemed to follow the crowd’s wisdom effortlessly during the ’70s. Back then, parenting decisions felt less scrutinized; choices like breastfeeding or using cloth diapers weren’t just personal—they were societal norms. Now, everything feels like it comes with a label, from organic foods to eco-friendly toys. As my kids grow older, I find myself worrying about educational choices, extracurricular activities, and how my decisions might be judged by others.
Yet, the real challenges I face as my kids mature go beyond material choices. The most difficult aspects of parenting often involve the unspoken issues that many parents shy away from discussing. For instance, one of my children went through a phase as a three-year-old where he would have explosive meltdowns. It was so intense that I sometimes had to physically restrain him just to keep myself safe. That’s not exactly a topic for casual conversation at playgroup, right? “Hey, does anyone else have a kid who goes wild? What do you do when time-outs don’t work?”
Similarly, when I accepted that one of my boys would benefit from speech therapy, it felt awkward to explain to my friends why we were missing playdates. “Oh, we can’t come because, well, my son can barely string a sentence together, and we’re trying to figure this out through therapy.” Admitting that a child needs help, even for something as routine as speech therapy, can feel taboo. It’s as if we’re not supposed to acknowledge our kids’ challenges—or our own. Meanwhile, I’m left wondering if his speech issues stem from that emergency induction I had at 37 weeks. What if I had acted sooner? Is this all within the realm of normal, and will he one day speak clearly enough that no one will ever know?
Over the years, I’ve worried about countless things—big and small. Is it normal that one child struggled with reading and wrote some letters backwards well into kindergarten? Is it typical for a three-year-old to wake up terrified from night terrors? What about my son’s fixation on his anatomy, or the fact that another one shows no interest at all? Is it normal that one child can’t handle losing a game without a meltdown, while another is defiant to the point of being unmanageable? And let’s not forget about me—am I abnormal for losing my temper quickly, crying easily, or worrying incessantly?
I’ve come to realize that “normal” is an expansive concept in the realm of parenting. My journey has become more about personal interpretation than about adhering to a strict formula. Instead of merely following a set path, I find myself evaluating, experimenting, and reshaping my approach over time. Parenting resembles crafting an essay rather than solving a straightforward math problem. However, much like in college, I sometimes encounter subjects that feel overwhelming, leaving me feeling adrift and unsure of where to turn for support. I need to identify those who can accept my honesty without judgment.
At night, my deepest fears surface: what if my experiences aren’t typical? What does that imply, and can I rectify it? When I plead, “Tell me this is normal,” what I’m really expressing is a desperate hope: “Please don’t let me mess up the most precious people in my life.”
For more insights on parenting and home insemination, check out this excellent resource on pregnancy and home insemination. If you’re interested in do-it-yourself options, this guide provides valuable information. For a deep dive into home insemination, visit our other blog post.
In summary, navigating the complexities of parenting and understanding what is considered “normal” can be challenging. Each child is unique, and what works for one may not work for another. Ultimately, it’s crucial to trust your instincts and seek support when needed.