What is a Parent?

By Joanne Keating

According to Websters, a parent is: "A father or a mother; he or she that produces young". What really is apparent, is that this definition leaves out some very important elements of being a parent in the new millennium.

If we use Webster's definition, anyone can be a parent, and be a good one, just by bringing forth offspring. But there is far more to parenting than that. First, it consists of unconditional love, another term that Webster was unable to define accurately: it is the most important element of parenting, and yet, has no concrete meaning. Second, it consists of becoming quite selfless. A baby takes priority in your life, the feedings, changes, rocking, singing, playing, nurturing, teaching.

The easiest way to define a parent is to peek into one day of the life of a mother:

7:15 a.m. Alarm rings. Mom puts on her chef hat, enters the kitchen and prepares a healthy, yet kid-appealing breakfast.
7:25 a.m. Don Nanny's hat, wake children. Change into Haute Couture Designer hat and, convince one that orange and pink really isn't the best colour combination.
7:35 a.m. Set Referees cap on head and control sibling rivalry during breakfast.
7:50 a.m. Back to the Chef's hat. Prepare nutritious lunches that will be eaten and not traded for chips and candy, hopefully.
8:10 a.m. Change into Dental Assistant cap. Check to see that teeth have been properly brushed and flossed.
8:15 a.m. Quickly don Teacher's hat and help complete homework that was supposed to be finished last night. (Honest, Mom, I finished my homework!)
8:30 a.m. Dodge into own bedroom and throw on sweat pants and T-shirt. Run comb through hair.
8:35 a.m. Check children's hair. Throw on Hairdresser's cap and French braid one, gel and spike another, try to get the comb through the third's.
8:45 a.m. Slide on Chauffeur's cap, whisk children into car and drive carefully, obeying all traffic laws to school. (Be sure to have workmen's earplugs in car.)
8:50 a.m. Zip home. Shower, change, put on make up and go to part-time job.
9:00 a.m. Affix Race Car driver hat to head and drive at break neck speed to work.
9:05 a.m. Relax and spend the next four hours enjoying the peace and quiet of your busy job.
1:00 p.m. Pull on Race Car hat again, proceed to school as fast as possible.
1:07 p.m. Slap on Volunteer hat and proceed to help the teacher make ooey, gooey, glue projects.
1:25 p.m. Don Psychologist hat and tell little Billy why we don=t hit other children when they take the glue.
1:30 p.m. Stop at washroom on the way to second child's class. (After suddenly remembering you haven't had time all day.)
1:35 p.m. Put on your Listening Ears and listen to 20 children read the same story to you, one at a time.
2:45 p.m. Retrieve chauffeurs cap. Drive children home, dropping off a friend on the way.
3:00 p.m. Pull out Short Order Cook's hat and prepare snacks for your three children plus a couple of others who have come to play.
3:30 p.m. Grab your Thinking cap. You forgot to thaw anything for dinner. Find recipe for Tuna casserole.
4:00 p.m. Put on your Accountants cap. Sit down to pay bills. Watch a few minutes of Oprah to see how the other half lives. Throw casserole in the oven.
4:15 p.m. Slam Nurse's hat on head. Bandage a minor cut that the child believes is life threatening.
5:00 p.m. Carefully place Suzy Homemaker hat on. Greet husband at the door. Remind him that there is soccer, Cubs, and Brownies tonight.
6:00 p.m. Time to put on the Bus Driver hat. Load all passengers, then drop off at appropriate stops.
6:15 p.m. Adjust your Girl Guide hat and teach the girls a new camp song. Play games, teach crafts, etc.
7:30 p.m. Bus Driver again. Retrace route in reverse.
8:00 p.m. Nanny Cap. Time for P.J.'s and snack then off to bed.
10:00 p.m. Fasten all seven veils to become the sultry wife.
10:08 p.m. Drift off to sleep. Thank heavens for that Night Cap.

Now, the part that defines a parent is that when you look in on the little darlings before turning in yourself, their sweet, angelic faces touch you in a way that nothing else can. And, you remember why you do it all . . . because you are a parent and you love them.

© Joanne Keating, all rights reserved