Too Much Knowledge?

I think I've got a problem.

You know I work in a bookshop..well there are lots of books I feel drawn to read. Mostly they are up & coming new young adult titles, sometimes they are Australian contemporary literature, sometimes beautiful, shiny and gorgeously illustrated picture books...cookbooks (yes I have a few), but the dreaded, shameful and possibly not exactly helpful genre that I am magnetically attracted to is, PARENTING SELF HELP.

Before my squids were born, I armed myself with titles such as What To Expect When You Are Expecting, Miriam Stoppard's Conception,Pregnancy & Birth, some other assorted blah about childbirth (like you can plan for it, HA) and Mother Love.
After the birth, I devoured more, more, more! There was one particular one which I was convinced was my saviour. A Sydney mother wrote about her (at times) hellish new mum experiences, including a diary listing occasions where her son bawled for hours at a time (I hear ya sista!) I read What To Expect In The First Year, Touchpoints, Dr Spock, How To Solve Your Childs Sleep Problems, Toddler Taming, How To Behave So Your Kids Will Too, too many other books extolling the virtues of Star Charts to mention, I'm OK You're A Brat, The Mask Of Motherhood, Mothers Behaving Badly, Buddhism For Mothers, Raising Your Spirited Child, Tricky Kids, Secrets Of Happy Children, etc etc etc.

Have you fallen over in hysterics yet?

I remember in one of my first visits to the Maternal Child Health Nurse, she commented that she thought I seemed a little anxious... Well I requested a different nurse for the next visit, but in retrospect I think that her history of raising four boys put her in a fair position to judge.
It occurred to me more than a few times that maybe if I just trusted myself, I would somehow muddle through. It seemed a big risk to take with the precious young lives of my babies though. And then a new title would catch my eye in the library (during storytime) or hit the shelves in the bookshop, promising the end to all that wishy washy-ness, indecision; uber parenting secreted between the covers.
I wanted it! I wanted a recipe or a rule or a rap over the knuckles that would quell my self-doubt and show me the shining path to perfection.
Our first New Mothers get-together had the nurse standing before a whiteboard asking "what is a good mother?" The diverse collection of mostly shell shocked new parents sat either blank or pondering, but I raised my hand with conviction and stated "NOT ME".
When I think about that moment, I cringe at myself, yet I think it was true in my mind. I had no idea what babies were about.
I needed instructions. I am an only child, I never saw sibling squabbles, bad behaviour (I was of course perfect?), crying babies, wet nappies, sleepless nights.
I kind of suspect that reading all those books might just have been a way of clawing back a bit of time for myself. I mean, it wasn't really being selfish when it was all for the good of little Mackie & Pepper. I also wanted to somehow unlock the secret of EASY parenting. If you can tick the box here..and here..and here, then you have hereby done all the you could possibly be expected to do and therefore you are now A GOOD MOTHER.
So, teetering on the brink of my kids' teenagerdom, I think I not only love my kids, but I also LIKE them. They are great people and mostly our relationship is warm and open, I'm proud to know them, but did those books have anything to do with the way they have turned out so far?
All that reading kept me informed of what sort of behaviour and issues are out there, but I can't honestly pick any one thing that has altered what I would have done were I left to work it out myself.
No book or publishing company knows your brilliant, unique creation the way YOU do.
And no collection of dry dusty paper can give the sort of cuddle that I enjoy with my son & daughter every night.
I love them.
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