be a better parent

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.

Part of this larger goal of being a better parent will be setting aside at least 30 minutes everyday during the work week to spend with my son just enjoying him. Life can be so busy that most of the time we spend involves doing task related activies. I really hate that. From now on, no matter how busy I am (or that he is for that matter) I want to spend time just chatting, or playing a game or doing something that he wants to do. I think it will do both of us alot of good.

With an (almost) 11 year old son, there have been many moments where I wished I handled a situation differently. My biggest obstacle is patience. I get angry or frustrated when I should be patient and I lecture when I should listen. I want to find a balance where I look for pratical solutions to problems instead of just using discipline to solve things. I love my son dearly and don’t want him to feel like failure or struggles should defeat him. I want to motivate him to be the best person he can be and grow in the process as well.

My child seems to be lonely, he’s behind in his school work, and he needs me to be staple…..

I’m now two and a half years into being a “single dad,” and things are starting to turn around. My two oldest girls (16 and 14) are living with me full time, and the younger kids are over about half the time. Living space is a bit tight, and we get on each others’ nerves from time to time, but we’re surviving. I had a couple of positive developments recently; apparently things have calmed down enough at my ex’s house that the older girls have been willing to spend some time with their mother. I’ve always felt it was important for them to have access to both parents, and I can see where it’s helping them to cope.

I don’t think you can ever be “done” with respect to this sort of thing, unless you consider it “done” when your kids are old enough that they can move out on their own. I’ll always have a place in my home for my children; that’s my promise to them. But I do look forward now to the day when I can watch them move off into the world on their own, and have some confidence that they will make good choices.