Mom to Mom: Being a Public Parent, at Home

“Can you giggle while eating your cereal? Little Miss Giggle could. Can we giggle like we have cereal in our mouth? Oh, that’s really good!  What funny giggling!!”

“Owldidn’twantDoratohelpUnicornio.Hewantedtobekingforever. Oh, there’s the timer – gotta go get that out of the oven. Look out! I don’t want to step on you!I’ll be right back to finish the book. Sorry, G!”

Photo by iStockphoto.com.Here's my question for you: Which one of these mini-conversations happened at home and which one happened during the preschool routine, in front of other parents, kids and teachers? I’m sure it’s not hard to figure out the answer.

I consider myself a pretty patient person. I love kids. I love playing with them, reading to them, teaching them things. I especially love my kids. I respect the little people they are and the people they’re trying to become. So understandably, it makes me angry when I catch myself splitting attention with them and less important tasks, like cooking, cleaning, laundry. Not that these things are unimportant, but I don’t think they should take priority over reading "Dora Saves the Enchanted Kingdom" to my 3-year-old daughter, or pretending to be the road for my 1-year-old son's Tonka trucks.

I’ll be the first to admit … well, the second. My husband would be the first ... that I have a time management problem. For example, I’m writing this at work. No … I’m not. Well, OK, yes I am. But, shocker, I digress. I start projects and forget about them. My one pile of clutter on the bookshelf is now three neat piles that didn’t make it to their respective homes. But what frustrates me more than a half-cleaned kitchen counter is when I look back at yesterday and think about the times I procrastinated spending quality time with G & D playing ponies or trucks because I was trying to finish something I thought was more important at that moment. Or when I lost my patience with them because I was trying to do too much at once.

By the way, the laundry still didn’t get done, and those neat little piles fell off the bookcase.

Then I look back at myself reading to my daughter in the morning as part of the routine at her preschool.  (Wash hands, sign in, read book, three hugs & kisses, goodbye). Reading the book turns into a group story time quite often, with some of the sweet kids in G’s class flocking to me to read to them as well. I’ve even gotten some special requests for other books. During that time I’m reading the book, I’m so in the moment. I love reading to G. I ask G questions. We talk about context and the pictures. The kids jump up and pretend to be whatever we’re reading about. I take the time.

When we're at the store, we play, we stroll, and we take our time (when we can). I answer the incessant questions. I know how important those questions are, and I cherish the memories of my mom answering all of mine. I want G & D to remember I did that for them, too. But not only in public. 

I won’t lie – I think we all feel this a little - that we parent a bit differently in public than in private. I want people to think I’m a good mother; probably part of the guilt of leaving G in preschool all day while I have to work. 

That’s not to say I don’t ever participate like this at home. But it has differed enough for me to be aware of it and want to change. So, I’m setting my timer. Fifteen minutes of chores for every 45 of connecting with my kids. When the buzzer goes off, I’m back in the game. Real connection. Present connection. Public connection.  Where I have the patience and energy I have with them in public, where other people see me. Because my kids are the important ones. I want them to think and know and feel I’m a good mother. No one else matters as much.

I will be my public parent in private.

Maggie Romanovich lives with her husband, John, daughter Greta, son Doyle, and two cats -- far too many mammals for their cozy Oak Park condo.  She applies the tenets of Attachment Parenting at home and works full-time in downtown Chicago.