How I Effortlessly Moved From an Expert to Novice Parent

Wait…what do you mean that is the wrong direction?

While researching an article, I stumbled upon the Dreyfus Model of Adult Skill Acquisition. In the decade of leg warmers and mullets, the Dreyfus brothers postulated that new learners develop skills in five distinct stages: novice, advanced beginner, competent, proficient, and expert.

I once was new to parenting. Now, I’m an old parent. Does that mean I have earned my expert parenting badge?

Does having five children make me an expert?

With five children, one might presume that I would move up a step with each child thus attaining the coveted expert level by that lucky last child. This is assuming that parenting skills follow a linear model of growth.

I have single-handedly disproved this theory in relation to parenting.

When I had my first child, I was already an expert having read, highlighted, and memorized all of the fine details in every “What to Expect…” book.

I was never more equipped to be a parent than the year we first conceived.

The day my first child came home from the hospital, I quickly plummeted from expert level to competent and hovered there for a child or two.

My parenting style has a strange curve to it.

As I added more kids to the crew, my skill level continued to drop, following an inverse relationship to the previously assumed linear model of growth.

Sometimes, I wonder if it is more of a bell-shaped curve, because child #3 occasionally stuns me with his brilliance — inverse or bell-shaped, it definitely was moving in the downward direction by child # 5.

For example:

• Child #1 always had a well-balanced breakfast of sliced strawberries and bananas on top of hot oatmeal with a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice. The meal was eaten at the dining room table, set with clean linens and a vase of fresh flowers. Child #5’s breakfast was an Eggo waffle to munch on in the car, sometimes toasted if I had time.
• Child #1 had adorable, coordinated outfits with matching shoes and hair bows. Child #5 wore the same green, frog themed rain boots every day for a year. This child was smart and knew if he wanted any shoes at all, he needed to pull those boots on himself. Otherwise, he was wearing his footed pajamas all day.
• Child #1 participated in ballet, gymnastics, swim lessons, Kindermusik, Russian language classes, and deep sea diving all before age two. By the time Child #5 was two, this mom was exhausted from all the extracurricular activities, so he got a goldfish — a multi-purpose pet who was both a companion and a swim instructor.
• Child #1 was held most of the time, only put in her car seat when it was actually time to be in the car. Child #5 was frequently buckled in his car seat and waiting by the front door a good thirty minutes before the rest of the family was ready to depart. He felt so comfortable in this seat that he preferred it to his crib, often slumbering through the night in his car seat tucked next to my bed.
• Child #1 didn’t experience screens before age two, and then only watched thirty minutes of a video from the Baby Einstein series. Child #5 grew up watching the Avengers from an IPad while patiently waiting in his car seat.

Do I still get a fancy parenting badge if I’m a novice?

After considering the above examples myself, and allowing some extra leniency for being a mom of at least 5, I think I solidly land between advanced beginner and novice.

Despite the apparent decline in skills, Child #1 and Child #5 didn’t grow up to be that dissimilar. Both kids are funny, smart, kind, helpful…with lots of spice thrown in for good measure.

There are lessons to be learned from this case study. First, Eggo waffles might be as nutritious as oatmeal. Secondly, sleeping in a car seat for an extended amount of time does not stunt your growth. And finally, Baby Einstein is a racket.

Above all else, it is clear that you can still be a darn good parent even when moving backwards through Dreyfus’ five stage model.

Please note, I took some liberties while writing this story — neither Child #1 nor #5 is truly funny.

Jill is a clinical psychologist who primarily writes about personal growth and self development, but enjoys taking a stab at humor every now and then. Thanks for reading!