Perfectionism in Parenting

I've been thinking a lot about perfectionism, how it came to have a huge hold on some areas of my life, and how it messes with my parenting, in good ways and bad. 

If you want to talk family systems, mine's pretty non-traditional. Modern, if you will. But 30 years ago. Whatever. My parents were older when they had me, which means they were the product of a very strong and determined set of parents. I am the only child of my parents but have half-siblings all over the place, the next youngest of which is 11 years older than me. Unless you count my cousin who is really like my brother and he's like 9 years older than me but didn't really grow up in my house.

Yeah.

So basically, I grew up in a house of adults, with everyone having way more grown up expectations of me. I love my family and the people who were around me as I learned about the world. My siblings are incredibly accomplished and inspiring individuals - musicians, graphic artists, neuropsychologists, actress/gardner/divas - and ALL ALSO completely taken with perfectionism in personal and professional pursuits.

Add to that starting classical music training at a pretty early age. I showed an interest in piano at 3, learning via Suzuki method, and played recreationally until high school ended. I played in college, but only because I was enrolled in piano class, and by then my piano romance had waned quite a bit. I also played clarinet since about sixth grade like every good little band dork. I was even pretty good, and therefore thrust (jumped?) into the competitive world of UIL every year. Even though competitive musicianship quickly lost its luster in college, I continued studying music and eventually becoming a music therapist, where I've learned to be flexible in music but it allows me to be creative both musically and in the therapeutic relationship. In that vein, I totally am a perfectionist in several ways, including:

1) I am research and evidence obsessed. Look. I know music therapy can be a weird thing that people don't get - that people can think is fluffy and made up and "pseudoscience." Thanks to my graduate degree and research skills I have learned where to go for reliable information and from where I'm standing, and I tell people this every day at work, it's a great time to be a music therapist. There are neuroscientists doing incredible work that we as music therapists, with our small sample sizes and anecdotal data (due mostly to the individualized nature of music therapy), wouldn't be able to do. There are two different kinds of music therapists - the super woo woo music of the spheres kind, and the hard numbers "show me the research!" kind. I'm somewhere in the middle. I see magic happen every time I go to work, and then I get to the library and work to figure out why I see the physical and emotional reactions that I do, in order to better serve my next client.

2) If I don't know how to play a song perfectly, I probably won't play it. This ties in more with being diligent about meeting my patients where they are than anything. If I'm bumbling through a song, I totally lose my street cred with the patient (especially because I now work with adults) and the session becomes more about me...and blegh. I hate that feeling. But sometimes you walk into a person's room and they say, "Play me the Ave Maria," and you try it and it sucks. And you promise to learn it for next time. The population I work with is particular about their music, which means I have to sing and play a lot to learn and continually update my repertoire.

So in the parenting realm lately I've noticed that A has been completely freaking out over little things. I get it, she's about to be three, she has Opinions and Emotions and all that, but I started looking at what I was doing that could maybe be contributing to her outbursts. During a particularly nasty one, it hit me. I am on her to do everything right all the time. I do it when I teach guitar lessons, when I tried my hand at teaching my niece piano (she now plays violin - go figure), when we're eating dinner, putting on clothes, everything. I sheepishly realized that I had constructed this toothpick fortress of controlling all the things and making my child behave that she was flipping out. Honestly, I would too.

So, I've backed off. Quit being so picky or insisting that she do the right thing every. single. time., shushing the young piano player in me that insists that "PERFECT practice makes perfect." I had to find an outlet though, a time during which I COULD let that perfectionist inside me run free. So, I started playing piano again. And for those 30 minutes whenever I can grab them, it has a place to go that isn't interfering with my relationships or my professional life. It feels OH so good, and helps me let go in the other areas of my life that needed loosening up.

fits and starts

So, little A is about to be 3, which totally blows my mind. I've been thinking about the blog lately and thinking about how much I wanted to write but couldn't - a) because there was nothing new under the sun. SO MANY good mommy bloggers out there! b) I didn't just want to blog about mom stuff and c) having a child is hard. It's hard on friendships, it's hard on a marriage, hard on your individual psyche. I just wanted to deal with my stuff personally instead of using the blog as a broken record of negativity and then d) Lord have mercy, the space in my mind to string a thought together was JUST SO EXHAUSTING.

I make no promises that I'll keep writing but, lately my brain has been filling up with Things and here seems as good a place to get 'em out as any.

Last night we were up pretty much all night with the nugget. She has asthma, and this time last year we landed in the ER because she had a cough but we thought she was getting better and we wanted her little body to fight of the "cold" we thought surely she had and you know how it goes when you have it "oh tomorrow I'll be better...no...maybe the next day will be better..." and we just played that game for too many days until she couldn't get through a sentence without a coughing fit. Scared the daylights out of me. We've managed to keep things under control this year and I've been trying to avoid using the nebulizer if it wasn't necessary but oh, it's time. And I feel so foolish for having to go to the doctor and pay him $80 for him to tell me something I already know. But this asthma learning curve is steep. If I could take it off her, I would. I hated having it as a kid, and remember being afraid to go to sleep because I was afraid I would stop breathing. Now when she gets like this she sleeps in bed with us because I'm afraid SHE will stop breathing. 

The crunchy mama in me wants to get to the bottom of this asthma, and her eczema, so next week we have an appointment with an allergist to get her tested. I'm tempted to also get myself tested as an adult since I was allergic to every little thing as a kid and wonder where it all landed, if I'm still allergic to the same stuff. From there we'll look at making dietary changes if necessary. I know I was allergic to all dairy as a kid, so if we had to cut that out, it wouldn't be too entirely tough on our family, but goodbye convenience foods like Amy's Mac & Cheese. Sigh.

So yeah - that's the biggest news for now. There's a lot of other things to write about coming up - I have a strong desire to hunker and purge everything in our house, to do all the projects and organizing that we've wanted to do for a long time because I feel stuck in the same mess and papers and room-that's-always-a-disaster-'cos-we-haven't-finished-it-yet. I have plans, though. And these next several months is all about bringing them to fruition. AND learning about how to budget and plan for those plans. I told you. Lots in my brain that needs to get out. Here goes.