be a better parent

I’m not exactly sure how I’m doing it but my kids miss me all the time. Funny too because I used to be so concerned about making sure they had a good time all the time and we do but they also get in trouble now and I think, believe it or not that says that I love them. God do I love them!!!!!!!!!!!!

So i’ve enrolled Vera into daycare so she can be around other children she didn’t want to leave when we visited so i think she’ll like it. I have some more groups i have to get her involved in and her father will be around more so hopefully things will get better.

I hear myself talk to my daughter, and I don’t like my tone, or I occasionally shout at her and then feel ashamed. She really is a lovely girl, but she’s four years old, smart as a button and with a strong personality, and very determined. So we clash a bit and she won’t listen to anything she doesn’t want to, including things like “don’t hit your brother” “don’t touch his face” (her little brother is 5 months old) so some of this is down to pay attention to me mum. As well as stretching her boundaries and limits.

I want to remind myself to do the right thing, not just the easy thing.

And to start afresh each day

And to have fun with her

And remember she’s just a little girl, not a grown-up even though she seems so grown right now.

I am doing this and I know I am because my son always calls me know when he never used to like to talk on the phone. He also asks to stay longer and longer when he is down with me. I just can’t explain how wonderful this makes me feel! I think, I hope anyway that it’s because I give him love and we have fun together. He get’s in trouble when he does something wrong and rewarded for good things. It’s getting back to a real relationship I think because no matter that I am a hundred miles away, I am still his parent and he know that. He knows I love him and am there for him no matter what. I never really knew how I would know if I was actually becoming a better parent but I’m looking at these things as a pretty good sign that I am doing okay.

I’m making a list of 52 fun things to do with my family. I want to have enough alternatives to make different and cool things every weekend.

many days i don’t call my daughter because i’m too busy on the job. So, I’ve been trying to call everytime i can, just to say hi or to know how was the school

I’ve started to check my daughter’s homework and… I find some little surprises!

Well, I’m making my first steps to reach this goal.

I think another part of, a big part of being a better parent for me is being strong for my kids. I have a hard time thinking about them and their other life and it bothers me. I can never let them see that. I want to show them something that they may not notice until they are much, much older. I want them to know that I did it all for them. I need to work on our relationships. It’s hard every other weekend at a time so I’ll need to keep thinking of new ways to hold on and let them know that I love them unconditionaly. The main focus of this entry though is to remind myself to be strong for them. Show them that even when things are upside down you have to hang on and hold true. If you can do this, then your life is your life.

Last night I let my own pain obscure my daughter’s, and that both surprised and frightened me. I was that daughter, lived that life, and vowed never to replicate it. I vowed to be a different mother than the one I had, more empathic, more attuned, more attentive, less hurtful, and I know I am succeeding. Still, I wonder how much of her, of that life, that damage, is inherent in who I am.

Last night I reacted to my daughter’s acknowledgement of her own pain, her confusion about it, cloaked in my own. I dismissed her pain, devalued it, and as result her needs were not properly met. I put her to bed in haste, thwarted her attempts to linger there in my embrace, and went off to meet the remaining demands of my evening. I was insensitive, abrupt. It was not until I drove home from my mother’s, hours later, emotionally exhausted, that I realized the significance of what I had done. The thought of my daughter, her uncomforted heart, wrenched my own, and the tears fell freely until I reached home. Once there, I climbed the stairs to her room, knelt by her bedside and stroked her hair. I felt selfish wishing she would awaken so I could make things right. I knew I was doing this more for me than for her. The words “I’m sorry” played over and over, a mantra, and a few more silent tears dotted her blanket. She did awake, and I held her for awhile as her breathing slowed back into sleep. When she awoke this morning, I did not ask her if she remembered last night, my arms around her, my apology, my attempt at mending, care. I wonder if it matters.

I need my children to know how immensely they are loved, and that their needs will always be met. I need them to feel it in a way that I didn’t, still don’t always, for whatever reason. I need it for them as much as for myself. To that end, that process, I need to be more mindful, more attuned. Maybe that also means being more honest about my own vulnerabilities, and not trying to hide them from my family. All I know is that I cannot abide my reaction, or lack thereof, in response to my daughter’s pain, nor can I abide the cloak that obscured my vision. I will be honest. Moments like that terrorize me. I will not become my mother. I will not.

Today was really hard for me. My partner is working in another state for the next few months and I’m handling things solo. It seems I can parent well or get things done, but not both. I hate schedules and prefer to go with the flow. I’m debating on introducing more structure to the day.