I don't have to tell you this, but parenting can be overwhelming. Even without grief.
It amuses me now, to think about the days before parenthood, when my biggest worry was meeting an unrealistic deadline at work. And how I used to think I was "so, so busy".
Now my days are filled with the priorities of parenthood, which go above and beyond just meeting my children's basic needs.
Because for me, raising kids involves a lot of guiding, teaching, coaching, inspiring, and listening to individuals who mostly just want me to make life easy for them.
Which, unfortunately for them, is not my style.
There are also irritating details in parenting, like ensuring that their P.E. clothes are clean and packed for school through the many, many, many reminders to be sure these things are washed, dried, and folded the night before.
Or my multiple-question approach to lessons in prioritization: What are your plans for this afternoon? Do you have any work due tomorrow? How are you going to budget your time, knowing that you have band practice tonight?
And wouldn't you know? Parenting one child is not necessarily the same as parenting the other. Even if they did come from the same gene pool.
Parenting has utilized every people management, team-building, and mentoring skill I have acquired in my life.
But I don't always get it right. And certainly, single parenthood comes with a built-in sense of inadequacy.
There are many a time when I question my parenting, and when I do, I think about the promise I made to Mike when I told him goodbye.
On my last one-on-one video call with him (while he was in a coma), I told him that he could let go, as it was apparent how hard he was fighting while simultaneously losing ground. Rapidly. That it was okay to rest his tired, broken body. That he could trust that I was going to take care of our girls. And that I was going to do all I can to raise them to be women he would be proud of.
The weight of this promise feels heavy at times, especially on days when I feel like my children and I are just making it through the day.
And it sure is hard to be a good, level-headed parent when 12- and 14-year olds can sometimes be topnotch jerks.
And mostly it feels impossible when you feel outnumbered and you are tired of thinking on your feet. All the time.
It takes a lot of energy, dealing with hormonal girls whose moods swing multiple times in a day. Especially when they are at ages where they are not sure whether they want their mommy or to get away from her.
And sometimes their anger and frustrations can only really be unleashed on her. Because she feels safe.
And because they sometimes feel like she's all they've got.
Because she is, after all, the parent left standing.
Sometimes they hurt my feelings so badly, I don't know if I even like them anymore.
And I am ashamed to say, I am sometimes not the best version of a mom to them. And at my worst, I lose confidence in my parenting abilities, unsure if I screwed up horribly or just a little.
This is the part of my life in which I have the least grace for myself.
Because I made an important promise. And I tell myself that I cannot fail.
There are times I hear Mike's voice in my head, saying to me what he so often did: "Our kids are so lucky to have you as their mom."
And, "You are the best mom."
And in response, I think, "If you could only see me now, buddy!"
Because of course, these thoughts taunt me when I feel like a terrible parent.
At times when I reassess a challenging situation with one of the girls, I ask myself, "How would Mike have handled this?"
I sometimes think I know the answer: He would have done the same, but maybe he would have gotten a completely different result. Because his relationship with each of the girls was different than mine.
At other times, the answer is: He would have done differently and who knows what would have happened?
But more and more, I think the answer would be: He would be just as stuck, confused, and/ or frustrated as me. Because much of what we are dealing with now is uncharted territory in our family's life.
Also? This world that our girls are navigating is so vastly different than the one Mike and I grew up in. I am not sure that he would have been better prepared than me to deal with the issues of this generation.
Which brings me back to grace. And how little of it I give myself in parenting.
Certainly, Mike would have given me grace. He always had, in all our years together.
He would have agreed that our kids are sometimes jerks of the worst kind. And he would have added that we shouldn't be so surprised, as they probably have inherited some of his sharp wit and my love of words (the latter being a superpower, and not always for good, in his book).
If he were around, he would understand that while I sometimes do not feel like I like our kids, I love them with a ferocity that makes it impossible to quit on them. Because he had felt the same.
Also? He would always trust that I am doing the best I can.
Because he always had absolute trust in me. And more confidence in my abilities than I ever had.
...Which really just brings me back to the weight of my promise to him. The inherent expectation that I will not fail.
This thinking pattern sometimes feels like self-flagellation. Martyrdom.
Why am I so stuck on the idea that I cannot fail at something because I made a promise, when the facts are staring me in the face? That the odds are stacked up against me and that nobody -- dead or alive, single or not -- has ever done this job perfectly.
And that the reality is, the kind of adults our children will become is not only affected by my parenting, but also by their choices in life and innate disposition.
Because they are not widgets coming off a factory line.
Nurture and nature.
To be honest, I am still working on breaking my nutty circular thinking.
My constant prayer is that I don't screw things up too badly. And that I can let up on myself.
I also remind myself, often, that God is my co-parent now. And because He is, our girls should be alright.
More than this, I can actually hope for more than alright. In fact, I have so much to hope for.
Σχόλια