Are You a Good Parent?

I yelled at my kids today.  Loud.  Like gave-myself-a-headache-loud.

The small people often respond with ‘what???’ when I call their names.  It is like nails on a chalkboard.

And they don’t always say ‘please’ or ‘thank you’.  They ‘forget’ to clean their room, make their bed, pick their clothes up off the floor, let the dog out or eat their breakfasts.

I’ve let them eat McDonald’s.  Twice in one week.

I’ve made pancakes for dinner and let them skip the fruit and vegetables.

I often think they are spoiled.  Life is so easy for them – their rooms are too big, they have too many toys and they have someone who picks up after them ALL.THE.TIME. (me)

They say “I caaaaaannnnn’tttt” all the time, have actually rolled their eyes at me and have been known to throw a world-class tantrum complete with stomping up the stairs and screams of, “I KNEW you didn’t love me”.

But I do.  And their Daddy does.

And they know it.  And I know they know it.

Yesterday, my husband looked at me and said, “well….they are happy.  I guess that means we are doing something right”.

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I think he is on to something.

I spend a lot of time worrying about being a good parent, a fair parent, a guiding parent.  But the loving parent?  There is something to be said for being THAT parent.

Kids sense when they are loved.  It is because I love my children that I sometimes yell, that I stand over them to ‘remind’ them to clean their room, pick up their clothes and let the dog out.  It is because I love them that I try to teach please, thank you, and ‘yes, Mommy’ instead of ‘whaaaat?’. Love is what motivates the ‘stern’ parent in me – the one who enforces bed times, separates fights and holds them responsible for poor decisions – like coloring on the wall.  It is love that drives the need to teach lessons, give hugs and yes, even the desire to see the smile that comes with the occasional skipped vegetable or trip to McDonald’s.

It is the comfort of knowing they are loved that puts the sparkle in their eyes.

And even when I’m not feeling like a ‘good parent’, it is knowing that they know they are loved that makes being a Mommy simply extraordinary.

What reminds YOU that you are a good parent?

The Pain of Parenting Begins

A green smiley face.

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That is what marks my sweet girl’s behavior daily at kindergarten.  There is a calendar – and every day I know – green smiley face = good Delaney.  If she misbehaved a little, I’d see that warning ‘yellow’ and well, you can see where this is going, red = notsogoodatall.

One time.  That is how many times she has come home with a yellow this school year.

Until last Thursday.  But we didn’t know until Monday.

Why?  Because she was taking the calendar out of her folder and hiding it.

As for me, well, I forgot to ask.  Because she always came home with a green.

My husband figured it out.  As soon as he asked, the tears started.  The hyperventilating began.

She couldn’t speak.  She couldn’t stop crying.  We promised we wouldn’t be mad – we just needed to know what happened.

My heart fractured a little more with each tear, with each labored breathe – what in the world could have happened to cause this type of trauma?

I actually started to get scared.

Little by little, the story came out in spurts.

She had kicked a little boy.

He hadn’t done anything wrong.

She had been told to do it.

By an ‘older’ girl she adores.

Hence the devastation.  Even at ‘almost-six-going-on-sixteen’, she feels betrayed and embarrassed.

And I feel like the air has left the room.  I wasn’t ready for this.  I’m not ready for this.  I’m hugging her tightly, as if I can block the pain of growing up and realizing you can’t trust everybody with my embrace.  I quickly wipe the tear that seeps from the corner of right eye. It wouldn’t help her tears if she saw mine.

I think….I hope….we covered everything.

No, she can’t kick someone.  It is ok to make a mistake.  Trust your own little heart – even if someone tells you to do something – you do know right from wrong.  We aren’t mad at you.  You can ALWAYS talk to us. We WANT you to talk to us.  We trust you.  We love you. (Did I miss anything?)

My heart hurts as I write – just knowing we are the very beginning of the long and treacherous road of ‘growing up’.  I hope I am equipped.

If you have suggestions, well, honestly, I’d love them.