By Trina Machacek

Not everyone has kids, but everyone has a mom and a dad. During the life of children and parents there is, more likely than not, going to be bumps and bruises along the growing up period. Growing up is not just for the children. Oh, no. Parents too grow into parent shoes. But. Yes, a momma sized “but.” When a new parent is thrust into the parenting role shouldn’t there be an owner’s manual?

Trina Machacek

I watched an episode of the Andy Griffith Show recently. Oh the life in Mayberry. The show was about a father that had a little stinker of a kid. The tyke was spoiled rotten and would throw tantrums. Full throwing himself on the floor tantrums, to get the bike or the dinner or whatever little 8-year-olds want. Well Opie, Andy’s son, thought he would try that too. He wanted an extra nickel and when he didn’t get it, he threw himself on the ground. Flailed around kicking and hollering. Andy just stood there. Soon Opie got tired and stood up with his hand out to get the nickel. Andy asked what that was all about. Opie said it was a tantrum and Andy just looked at him and walked out the door of the sheriff’s office leaving the kid standing there. Now that’s parenting. In many stores I have been in, there have been children that wanted the sugary cereal or the cookies and to keep them from “making a scene” they usually are rewarded with their hearts desire. Not always. Those one-act plays are played out over and over again.

I have friends with little children and grandchildren. Apparently the grandparenting is the way to go. “Feed them sugar and send them home,” is heard more often than not when several of the second line parents are talking of taking care of their off-spring’s off-springs. Grandparents have no rules so there are no lessons to learn. Being a new parent though. That needs some training.

There is a saying, “If you want to know what your wife is going to look like as she and you travel the married path, look at her mother.” That also goes about how the new mom or dad is going to be as a mom or dad. Just look at how your spouse turned out. We are, after all, products of our upbringing! That is not one hundred percent fool proof though. My other half skipped being a lot like his parents but took after his grandfather. A really big man with a heart the size of Jupiter. Had I gone with the look at the mother thing… Well suffice to say, I am glad I didn’t. I’m just saying. I think he too may have taken a second look when looking towards my parents then me. The best thing I got from my parents were my mom’s legs. Yep, that’s what landed my husband.

So what explains why a mom takes the time to teach a kid to cook or a dad take the time to teach a kid to change oil in the family vehicle? Or how to discipline with a firm hand but not a switch. Is it books? Oh please. I can’t tell you exactly what Dr. Spock was trying to do with gentle words and rewards. I can tell you just about every time I screwed up I got what for because of talking back. I know that my mom did the disciplining, because she was disciplined when she was growing up. My dad was like Little Lord Fauntleroy and never did anything wrong and was raised up a bit spoiled. So he had no idea how to handle it when one of his kids told a fib, drank the whiskey out of the sealed Jim Beam bottle on the mantel. Or stayed out all night after being told to be home by ten! But mom did. YIKERS. They were a good match in the kid raising stuff. He helped make ‘em and she did the rest.

In most cases that explains parenting. In rural settings it seems to work out where both parents are involved more so than in an urban setting. That may just be because rurally families know their neighbors more so than in cities. Where ever there is parenting though, the lines change over time. Sometimes it’s “Wait ‘till you father gets home.” Sometimes it’s “Wait ‘till your mother gets home.” It really is a heart-warming thing to see a family where both parents can tell you what number their kid wears on a jersey, or which one loves to be in the school plays.

Parenting is a gift.

Trina lives in Diamond Valley, north of Eureka, Nevada. She loves to hear from readers. Email her at itybytrina@yahoo.com