Fixin' a Drink in the Morning
A few months ago, I had a few people* ask me if I was still writing. I said that I hadn't been, but should resume as it was something I really enjoyed doing. They all agreed and indicated that they enjoyed reading my posts. So here we are, two months later, as most good intentions take time to come to fruition. Indeed I had started this post nearly three weeks ago before promptly abandoning it for things that seemed more pressing.
The fact that I haven't written much, if anything, over these past two years can certainly speak to an evolving state of my mental psyche when it comes to parenting, and my role as a parent as my kids have gotten older - something that is more apparent now that we are into the summer months. While we've weathered these past 2+ years arguably better than 99% of other families, this is certainly not to say that it hasn't been hard. And at times really hard.
For me, writing has always tended to be a cathartic experience that has undoubtedly helped me process my own parenting experience. During a time when that parenting experience was seemingly most intense, with schools closed and the world in lockdown, this medium was probably one of the more constructive ways to channel frustration and joy, but sadly fell by the wayside, as I neglected to make it a priority. As for many parents, these past 2+ years have certainly not been filled with my finest parenting moments. But they have certainly contained a great many experiences from which I can learn and progress as a parent. And if someone besides myself enjoys reading about my observations of those experiences, all the better.
So where to begin, or resume if you will. I'll try not to cram 2+ years of material into one piece, but if you are familiar with the blog, you know that I'm seldom at loss for excessive words. Much has certainly changed from my initial days as a stay at home parent. Our oldest finished fifth grade this past year and graduated from elementary school, and brought us into the world of pre-teendom we were hoping to avoid. Our youngest, who was the catalyst for my stay-at-home adventure, finished first grade and has embraced the role of an angst ridden seven year old boy, complete with an emo haircut and currently sporting a sleeve of temporary tattoos. And there is of course our not-to-be-forgotten spirited middle child, who finished third grade and we have realized is much easier to parent when she is not in the presence of her siblings.
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| Insert obligatory pondering of how my kids got so old. |
Summer has always brought a unique set of opportunities for me as a stay-at-home parent. As they've gotten older, they've come to rely on my less, which makes me wonder what my own expectations of myself should be as a parent. Indeed as I write this, our oldest is making herself breakfast, a skill we've tried to impart on all of our kids over the past year, our middle is reading (something she and her older sister would do for hours on end), and our youngest is stacking pennies. Of course our kids will have a myriad of activities that they will need to be chauffeured to this summer, which at times makes me feel like an unpaid Uber driver. Admittedly as someone who tends to thrive on task completion, I at times enjoy my services being called upon.
I am also keen though on allowing my kids a healthy(?) amount of unstructured time. Literally unplugging all of the devices and leaving them to their own devices. My guilt instincts at times kick in, and I try to get them to do something academically stimulating, like a page or two of a Brainquest workbook or read in Spanish. But after mentioning my inconsistent attempts to avoid the summer slide with my kids to one of the teachers at their school, and getting a very discernable eye roll indicating that my efforts were probably over the top, it has become less of a priority. We typically try and fail regularly at instituting some amount of chores for them to do.
A few weeks into the summer we celebrated Father's Day, and like a number of of other dads, my entertainment was watching our girls dance in their final dance competition of the season. My present could have easily been realizing the fact that after that day they would be finished dancing, even if just for a week. It was fun though to be able to watch them engage in an activity that they are passionate about and that challenges them. Our son started dance this past spring, so in the years to come they will all be able to get in on the fun.
While Father's Day is a time to celebrate father figures and shower them with well intentioned, if not odd gifts^, it can also be a chance for those of us who are father figures to reflect on our roles. For if you weren't in that role, whether biologically or otherwise, you'd really have no reason to celebrate Father's Day.
As a father, and parent in general, one of the greatest compliments I've received is when people (mainly adults) tell me that that they enjoy being around our kids, or that they appreciate the way we are raising our kids. Yes, typically this comes from close friends or family, but when it comes from people whose opinions I value, it tends to carry an extra amount of significance. It makes me think that we are getting this parenting thing "right", at least occasionally, and while realizing that the word "right" is incredibly subjective.
Now I certainly know how our kids can be. They can be vastly different at school or in other social settings (typically much better behaved and more enjoyable to be around) than they are at home (whiny, cranky, and at times incredibly disrespectful). In fact, over the past two years, as I've spent some time substitute teaching, some of my more enjoyable interactions with my own kids have been at school. I'd much rather have it be this way than the inverse, but it can be undeniably exhausting. No matter how much patience I have (and I have a lot of patience), I can only direct expletives at my kids in my head so many times before they actually come out in audible form.
So while I don't actively seek the approval of others in my parenting philosophy (or I wouldn't admit that I do), hearing those compliments can provide a certain level of validation. Particularly so because I like to think that I put a lot of intentionality into my approach to parenting. I've read an excessive amount of books, articles and blogs about how to make sense of this emotional rollercoaster of a world that is parenthood. The fact that I've spent time, albeit irregularly, writing about my parenting experience shows how I have a tendency to grapple with the bigger questions of parenting and raising offspring. I take this intentional approach to try and be a parent that I believe my kids deserve, as well as one that I can be proud of.
My wife has told me before that it isn't always easy to parent with me. I can't disagree with her statement, as I know I'm not always easy to even be around. I'm cynical and sarcastic, at times pretentious, and often unmoved by other's opinions of me. While single parenting, especially full time single parenting, is a Herculean effort, co-parenting can be fraught with its own levels of frustration and resentment. Spirited discussions and disagreements over parenting styles and passed judgements on parenting decisions are to be expected. Finding a balance between constructive and critical is fickle.
There is a certain amount of irony in my wife's observation though, as obviously I wouldn't be a father, nor one that contemplated how best to raise his children, if it wasn't for her and the subsequent children that she birthed. I take a great many cues from my wife when it comes to parenting, because she is, without doubt, one of the most amazing moms I know. As much as she might disagree, she pushes me to be a better parent. One that is more actively engaged with the child rearing responsibilities. Coincidentally this probably provides more opportunity to frustrate and annoy her. I have gotten better at recognizing certain scenarios where I do have to check-out of parenting, and have been told, both by my wife and kids that I am typically more fun when I do this.
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| It was Father's Day, so of course I wasn't going to say no to ice cream. |
This past spring I was able to gain a small amount of redemption on a masochistic event that I planned on doing three years ago. After getting snowed out of a 50 mile endurance run, I was able to complete the 34 mile version of it back in April. I've done a few different long distance endurance events; a couple of marathons as well as training for the 50 mile that didn't happen and my most recent irrational distance decision. To me, long distance running (or biking or hiking or anything else that takes a long time and requires a certain amount of physical and mental fortitude) and parenting draw a lot of similar parallels. But in particular they are about playing the long game. Putting in the work, and a lot of it, to hopefully realize some desirable outcome later on. Maybe after 18 hours of nonstop plodding along or after 18 years of parenting.
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| Your biggest fans are the ones who will encourage you in your most irrational pursuits. |
In utltrarunning, as in parenting, that desirable outcome can look different for everyone. One person will finish first, while the rest of us just hope to finish at all. Depending on the course and conditions, that experience can vary greatly. And despite your best efforts to train and prepare, injuries can beset you or unforeseen circumstances can hamper your progress. All this applies to parenting as well, as there are a great many things that are beyond our control when it comes to raising our kids. Despite your best efforts and best intentions, your kids can still be jerks at times - even royals aren't immune.
As parents were often told not to try and compare our kids to other kids, or ourselves to other parents. It's sage advice, but a challenge given our comparative culture. But while races, and even endurance runs ultimately have a winner, author, and self-described masochist, Brendan Leonard is quick to point out that the vast majority of people engaging in the irrational activity of endurance running aren't competing against each other, but rather against themselves. To push their limits and be a better person at the end of whatever goal they have set out to accomplish, even if they feel like complete shit afterward.
This is the approach I think we should take in parenting. To strive to be a better parent today than we were yesterday. And use what we learn today to hopefully be a better parent (and person) tomorrow. We won't always succeed in doing this, and at times it might seem as though we are running in circles, chasing our tails. But that doesn't negate the need to put in the effort. We might receive accolades and encouragement for our efforts along the way, like you often do from spectators and aid station workers in a marathon or other long distance running event. Ultimately though it's up to us to take ownership of the effort we put in to keep moving forward. We've got important things still left to do.
*Yes, one was my Mom
^The oddest gift I overhead was a Shitake Mushroom growing kit.
