When I was expecting my first child, I had a mini existential crisis about the kind of parent I was going to be. How was I supposed to mould my kid into a self-assured human when, at 36, I still felt lacking in many ways" I?ve always tried to embrace my ?inner fullness? and spirituality, but after 18 years of yoga, a short stint studying Kabbalah (before Madonna made Jewish mysticism look cool), three therapists and a few failed attempts at daily meditation, I was just muddling through my soul-searching journey. So, after my daughter was born, I was cautiously optimistic when I realized she was a very spirited and confident little person from the get-go. As a newborn, she was loud and shrieky?even our midwives were startled by the power of her pterodactyl-like cry. She always knew what she wanted and how to get it. All I had to do as her mother was love her and take care of her. Easy, right" Nope. For me, nothing about parenting was chill-in-an-earth-motherly-kind-of-way?and anyone who says it comes naturally or instinctively isn?t doing the rest of us any favours.
Raising tiny, demanding people is a monumental amount of work, and trying to be calm when you?re running on three hours? sleep and your baby will only nap on your body, or when your toddler has a meltdown because you ?accidentally? flushed her poop down the toilet, can feel hopelessly overwhelming?no matter how adorable they are. Fast-forward a few years and as cool and in control as I had tried to be...