What I Wish Every Parent Knew

I didn't write this. It was in Child magazine a few years ago and I had it on my bulletin board forever because I thought it was so poignant. My sister-in-law reminded me that I sent it to her and wondered if I still had it. I did but I can't find it on the internet. I was going to type it in for all of you but Eric did it for me. (Nice guy) So this is long but I hope you enjoy it.

With 20/20 Hindsight by Elinor Lipman

Recently my publisher asked me to update my “about the author” paragraph for some promotional purpose. Instead of ending with the usual “She and her husband live in Massachusetts and have one child,” I added, “their son, Benjamin, who turned out great.” I sat back, smiling. It seemed the right tribute at the right time, as Ben grinned at me from a new graduation photo.

That’s where I sit now, on this side of my child’s first 22 years, all of which replay in the most delightfully nostalgic fashion. Things that once felt worrisome and burdensome now appear as footnotes in The Doters’ Guide to Ben.

The biggest travail that we’ve reduced to a fond memory is the fact that Ben didn’t sleep through the night until he was 6 years old. It could have been worse; he might have carried on and cried inconsolably, but all we needed was the sight of me, a pat, a blanket retrieved. Still, how did we know he’d ever reform? Plus, we couldn’t ignore the public relations factor: The question on everyone’s lips, beginning soon after his birth, was “Does he sleep through the night yet?”

“Not quite,” I answered-for the next 72 months.

As he neared his first birthday, every passerby was a child development expert: “Walking yet?” they’d ask. “Our pediatrician says they either walk or talk, “I’d say, turning to my happy stroller passenger to prompt a sentence containing both a subject and a verb.

What we didn’t know at 1 year-or at 6 or 12-was that everything would eventually work itself out. A partial list of early parental concerns and their outcomes include:

Then: Bad sleeper. Now: Age 22 years and 10 months, sleeps through anything, naps anytime, anyplace, on any surface. Then: Crawled late, stood late, cruised late, walked at 17 1/2 months. Now: Walks, drives, skis black diamonds. Then: Watched too much TV, played too much Nintendo. 2004: Graduates from an Ivy League college. Then: Suffered acute anxiety when left with anyone but mother, father, grandparents. 2004: Moves 2,000 miles across the country, whistling all the way. Then: Shy. Now: Exceeds his 500-minutes-per-month cell phone plan. Then: Addicted to breast milk, followed by cow’s milk, chocolate milk, and juice not from concentrate, which is to say: teeth at risk; blamed myself for not promoting water as most delicious beverage. To this day: Not one cavity. Then: Not interested in toilet training. (“I not fwee yet,” he would protest when we broached the subject.) Today: Bathroom issues limited to wet towels on the floor.

One of the great joys of the grown-up child is seeing how the essential person was always present. Baby versions of talents, interests, and personality traits come to roost in fascinating ways. True then and true now: Ben had a keen interest in food, in menus, in dining out. Nothing bothered him that couldn’t be cured by eating. Years passed. The only demerits levied against him in high school were meted out for leaving campus to get sushi. Every article he wrote for his college newspaper was a restaurant review.

I’m not reminding you in grandparently fashion that because your little ones grow up in the blink of an eye you should cherish every moment. You’ve heard that. The point I’m trying to make is that there is so much to look forward to-not just the tuition-free, post-orthodontic, babysitterless future but also the company you keep: your grown-up child. My friends with small children have asked me, “What’s it like when the hugging and kissing gets shrugged away? Don’t you miss the baby?”

Yes, we do. My husband frequently gazes at baby pictures and says, “My boy was cute, wasn’t he?”

But then the big boy calls, and the rosy glow changes direction to the here and now. Lovely surprises will await you: A big strapping guy! A witty friend! A licensed driver! A voter! A tech-support hotline! An adviser, a guide, a conscience.

A pride and joy.