Periscopecake

One of the greatest gifts being a parent has given me is the new perspective on my own parents.  There are so many facets to this. A few years ago my daughter mentioned that she doesn’t understand how her and her brother are so different, since they had the same parents and I said “ but you kind of didn’t have the same parents”.  We had not only changed and grown and evolved between kids, we had learned and developed new skills; we now had two kids rather than one, and most of all, each kid calls for a different kind of parent. Your baby shows you what they need and I see that clearly with parenting overall.  My sister and I are very opposite.  She is hilarious and probably more likable than me in general. We get along and can talk for hours, but we have basically nothing in common and are very different personality types. My kids are the same in that regard. They are absolutely different personalities and people, and I can only hope that they are great friends later, but it’s quite possible that they won’t be.

My son is different from my daughter by nature and in personality; what worked for him doesn’t necessarily apply to her. Regrettably, we used to yell a lot more at our son. He was somehow rougher and pushier and we were young and new. My daughter would cry if she was yelled at, so we limited it hugely.  In hind sight, I regret yelling at all, and I’ve apologized to my son for yelling at him, as I now think no one should ever be yelled at, and I would never want them in a relationship where conflict equaled yelling and disrespect.  I’m ashamed that we modeled that; but can only do better now.

My sister and I had different parents because we were different kids and they were different people too. I see this in my kids and how we interact with them. I see how easy it is to love my daughter but how I don’t always “get” her. I see this in how I see myself in my son and how I know how to talk with him. Alternatively, I see how my daughter and her father get along and have a different relationship than he and his son; she is more like him (for better and for worse). He gets her in the way I get my son.

My son has issues with his dad that resonate with me because I not only saw and mentioned the upcoming doom to his dad since the kid was around 3; I have many of the similar issues and they are ultimately what caused me to choose to leave the marriage. He and I talk a lot and I cherish the relationship I have with my young adult kid; more than I can explain or put into words. He and his sister most definitely have “different” parents. I also spend a lot more one-on-one time talking to my teen daughter than I did with my teen son. Relationships just develop differently. Connection is not a given.

Another aspect of parenting that my kids have taught me is that we literally got nothing.  What I mean by that is that there is actually no penalty in general, and you’re pretty much just hoping they adhere to the rules and don’t discover that the wizard is just a man behind a curtain.

My parents “let” my sister drop out of school and smoke.  As a teen, I deeply resented this and judged it very harshly; I actually held it against them for years. As a parent, I’ve discovered time and again that half of it is just hoping they don’t call your bluff!  We’ve got nothing. If my kid drops out of school I literally have no way to stop that.  If my kid hangs out with a bad crowd or gets into smoking (thankfully that’s not actually cool anymore) I literally have no tool to stop that. I would never kick my kid out, I would never abuse my kid and I can’t actually “make” them do anything!  It’s all hopes and dreams and building a foundation of behavior that hopefully makes them comply and manage…but at the end of the day, I’ve got nothing. Nothing! And I have always been strongly aware that the delicate balance of “listening” to us is crossing your fingers and hoping they don’t test the invisible walls. My parents had no choice! They couldn’t “make” her do anything.  Parenting made me realize this; it helped me forgive. She called their bluff and they were probably like “Shit! What now!?” 

So, as my youngest finishes up high school and I see her struggling, I am so happy that she hasn’t dropped out. I am so happy that these kids feel loved and somehow the things I aimed to do seem to have worked.  But I don’t actually know.  That kid is late for school every day!  Her dad is like, “I can’t make her get up and get ready and get there on time”. And he really can’t. He could wake her and encourage her and drop her off, but he can’t “make” her.  I hold my breath and basically try and do my best and recover when I do my worst, and focus on my greater goal of always just making them feel loved, accepted, supported and wanted. But I absolutely know that it could blow up my face at any moment and I’ll only see the fruits of these efforts once they are grown and on their own and have any sort of relationship with me. Luckily it’s looking so far so good, but I don’t friggin’ know. Their peers are a greater influence than their parents at some point and you basically just hope they choose wisely.  The illusion of control is literally just that.

Having kids also finally showed me that my parents loved me.  This sounds sad and dramatic but growing up, I always thought my parents didn’t really care if I lived or died.  I somehow felt like they were burdened by me and I wouldn’t have answered a resounding “YES!” if asked if my parents loved me, I would have probably said “probably”. But now, knowing how deeply and ridiculously I love my kids. How I literally tear up talking about loving my kids. How I would punch you in your face to defend and save my kid. Have I finally computed that someone may just possibly love me like that!  Someone may just know me and find me irritating or be confused by me but love me with a passion so heavy that they can’t bare it. It’s something I wouldn’t have probably thought about without experiencing that kind of love. That was huge in repairing the way I felt about my parents.

To be clear, my parents were not abusive in any way. They were human and young and doing their best.  Any self esteem issues I had were not intentional and any lack of affection or attention was a product of their own upbringing and conditioning.  I do not feel like my parents did a “bad” job. I think I see this all more clearly now, in being an actual human who is growing and learning and also doing their best to parent.  There is no job more burdened by guilt and regret as equally as it is by elation and pride. These fucking kids don’t listen! Godspeed.

My son and I talk a lot about being change makers and breaking cycles of generational trauma. To be fair, I do roll my eyes a tad at the new age habit of calling everything “trauma” as it does water down heavier and more abusive levels of trauma. But in this context, I mean things that contribute to messed up attachment styles and poor self esteem; events that create unhealthy coping skills and poor relationship dynamics.

We talk about the ability to evolve and work on ourselves so we can CHOOSE to correct the parenting shortfalls we experienced and change the path and dynamic for the next generation. For me, that meant being affectionate and congratulatory towards my kids; it meant making them feel loved at all stops, and heard. It meant no spanking and lots of talking and showing them that I am just a person too.

I held both kids whenever they needed, I strongly believe that you absolutely cannot “spoil” your baby by loving it and meeting its needs, and don’t believe in spanking. My daughter slept with us (for way too long) and my son was fine to sleep solo from about six weeks old.  I was spanked and I was left to cry it out. I absolutely do not believe in that, but I now see that my parents are just people and that was the parenting of the day and the way they knew how to be, based on their life and the knowledge of the time. 

For my son, it means being a man who is there, keeping your word, showing interest and discipline and being a good example. He relates this to his father and his goal for when he becomes one. He wants to flip the script on the father he feels that he had and actually, also reverse the pattern of the father his father had, and so on. 

I’ve slipped up in my desire to be the change, by yelling and having lost my temper. I’ve slipped up in the few times I’ve actually hit my kids (maybe 3 times). But I have also always owned up to and apologized for those times and I’ve tried to always talk about my learning as I’m going along.

I don’t think I ever saw my parents as learning as they were going. They were 18 and 24 when they had me. They were young and new and had all their own shit, feelings, and parenting patterns that they were also probably trying to undo. I never recognized or saw this until I was a parent! Parents are just people. We were 24 and 25 when we had our son (28 and 29 with our daughter). We were young people in charge of young people, trying to not fuck them up while knowing that we wouldn’t know how we were fucking them up until they were older. It’s a long term experiment; parenting.  It’s going “let’s assume this will be ok”… and not actually knowing if it will be…

My kids have a great bond with my parents and I have found it funny when my daughter has said that grandma is like me, or grandma would make that joke I just made.  I used to be like “what? Grandma isn’t like that!” But my daughter has helped me connect and relate to my mom because I am now beginning to see her as more like me (or, that I’m like her).  I wouldn’t maybe have made that connection without having kids.

It’s also a wonderful new experience to see your parents as grandparents and recognize that they are doing it differently and evolving too. They get to have a do-over in a sense (with less pressure and responsibility).  I don’t want to be a grandma any time soon but I absolutely look forward to being able to just love my kid’s kids and come at that new role with a different appreciation and wisdom.

Being a parent is the ultimate joy and the ultimate challenge. No one is doing it “right”.  I mean obviously abuse, neglect and other horrible behaviors are definitely doing it “wrong”; but in general, the nuances are much more subtle. I don’t know why my boyfriend loves his childhood and parents so much and why his dad is his ultimate hero. I can only assume that they also did the best they could with what they had and it was combined with a kid that somehow fit into that perfectly. I have made my son so mad he threw a huge fit and hated me for a day (or more) when he was around 13, but now he seems to think I’m amazing. It’s sometimes a nightmare that’s like dismantling a bomb and just basically going “do I cut the red wire? I guess we’ll soon find out…” I’m so glad to have this experience and to have it ultimately hold up a mirror to me and my relationship with my own parents. 

I can only assume that if my kids have kids, it will do the same and they will be like “oohhh! This shit is hard! My parents were actually just the random stewards that got to try and raise me”.  ….As they hopefully think we did amazing and are best friends with each other…(haha) Or at least commiserate with each other about our shortcomings and do better, while seeing us through new eyes.