every happy family is happy in its own way

Socializing in Annapolis is so often planned. People live farther apart, our St. John's friends have demanding schedules, there is a lot more school to contend with, and the end result is that when a family comes over, it becomes an occasion to clean the house and make some nicer-than-usual food. It's so different from visiting in Lancaster. We knock on friends' doors without calling first. My kids hop on and off the neighbors' porches in their pajamas. And we all enjoy being welcomed into the warm kitchens and lived-in living rooms of friends.

These spontaneous moments of shared, messy regular life offer a window into the mystery of how another family works - the inner logic and boundaries that give a family its cohesive shape. I have been intrigued by families since I was a kid, but now that I'm a responsible party in my own family (I'm so culpable! They will tell their therapists about me someday!) I can get pretty weird and twisted up inside. My old anxiety-driven perfectionist impulses start making grumbling noises.

I admit it: I have succumbed to feelings of inadequacy before the many happy, strong families we are lucky to call friends. Instead of taking inspiration when I see a friend modeling a novel way to engage a child, organize a meal, or encourage positive behavior, I sometimes think: why don't I do that?  I tabulate the multitudinous errors of my mothering. I settle into making mental lists of all the things I will do better. It is so disappointing when that happens! The competitive parenting vibe one encounters at the playground or preschool with relative strangers is one thing. But to recognize those feelings of competition, judgment, and anxiety with friends completely sucks. The cruel gesture of objectification required to compete with another person is extra problematic in family friendship. Being a parent is hard enough! Why would I mess with the much-needed solidarity?

At a certain point during the holidays though, the grumblings quieted, and I was able to appreciate that our friends and family's differences are a beautiful thing. Besides sharing different pursuits, work, books, music, passions and relationships, other families share with us a different internal organization, because they are made up of different people. I know, it is nuts that I am only wrapping my head around this idea now. Happy families are not alike, after all. How could they be?

I have a five year old who gags on vegetables, has an insatiable appetite for all things theological, screams in terror because she hears a mysterious noise on the way to the kitchen, writes poetry that takes my breath away, and sits in the bathroom talking earnestly to the birds embroidered on our shower curtain that she has named John and Michael. As if I could employ the same disciplinary tactics or bedtime routine with her that a friend does with her equally extraordinary and one of a kind kid!

When I can accept and embrace our particularity and strangeness, I can learn from the dear friends in our life without feeling threatened or judged. I can take inspiration from their generous, unique example, letting it fill my sails with a strong wind so that I might continue in my own direction.

Today was the first regular day back, after a week away packed with family and friends, and we did so many deliciously regular things. Gabriel and I dropped Frances off at school, went to the Rec Center, and played at a friend's house. I set up a better work space for myself during naptime, and made hot chocolate for the kids after school. We pretended to be birds in a nest on the couch, snuggled in the big blue blanket, reading stories. There is much for us to learn and do as a family, and many ways to grow. If I can loosen my grip a bit, our dear friends will help us with that. But it is also nice to know that being ourselves, right here and now, is a-okay.