Today, my five-year-old daughter, Lily, had a meltdown in the car because I refused to purchase her a pottery wheel. I lost my cool, and I know tomorrow will likely be no different.
There are times when I clean up after her simply to avoid the impending tantrum, or out of my inability to calmly guide her through the cleaning process herself. I allow her to watch shows with overly dramatic characters who whine without any real substance.
After hours of her chatter, I often find myself tuning her out. Who knows what I’ve agreed to with my half-hearted “sure”? Just yesterday, she declared her disdain for quesadillas—one of the few foods she actually enjoys. Fine, I told her, just eat chicken nuggets then.
I catch myself whining in the same tone that drives me crazy when it comes from her. I realize I’m setting a poor example. I’ve read the parenting articles and know the “shoulds” that are supposed to guide me, but many of them seem unrealistic, penned by individuals who have never truly experienced the chaos of raising children.
I sometimes give in to her tantrums because my mind is racing, and it seems like the simplest way to quiet the noise. I worry that I’m not teaching her enough about empathy, equality, and compassion. I bark orders like, “Get your shoes on right now!”
Children need structure and boundaries, but those elements rarely coexist peacefully. Perhaps it’s because I’m the one who’s failing them. I often find myself glued to my phone, seeking an escape. After all, leaving a child unattended at the park can lead to unwanted attention from authorities.
In my mind, there’s a version of myself curled up, overwhelmed, while another part of me hears my kids persistently saying, “Mommy, watch this!”
Yet, amidst these struggles, there are glimmers of hope. At the end of the day, she cuddles with me and shares her candy because she enjoys doing nice things for others. She talks about our cherished moments, not as a critique of my shortcomings, but as a reminder that I am enough. Sometimes she mimics my best qualities, as well as my worst.
So, perhaps there is a silver lining. Maybe it’s not as bleak as it seems, and there’s always tomorrow.
To the fellow parent feeling lost, I wish I could tell you that everything will be alright, but maybe that’s not the case. How would I know? All I can offer is a sense of camaraderie and a glass of wine. Maybe “maybe” will have to suffice.
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In summary, parenting is a challenging journey filled with mistakes, noise, and moments of doubt. However, those small victories and the love shared among family remind us that each day brings new opportunities for growth and connection.