unpolished thoughts 12/19/2018
Today is my daughter’s 10thbirthday.
It’s cliché, but true: it went so fast!
It’s one of those moments where I can’t help but stop and ask myself, “Am I doing it right?!”
No answer is satisfying because there is no blueprint for parenting. It’s much easier to come up with a list of failings than to see what I’ve done well.
It’s been about 4 years since her mother and I divorced. She often asks on the way to school, “who’s picking me up today?” The hardest thing about the divorce was thinking I was breaking her heart.
But amazingly, six months later, she told me, “It’s better this way.”
Damn. Life lessons we never planned for.
Maria is incredibly active. These days her passion is for cooking and everyone got the memo. Her birthday presents were all cook books or cookware of one kind or another. She also asked for a wagon because she wants to pile it full of baked goods and do door-to-door sales.
She’s a go-getter!
Often people see these things and tell me, “You’re doing a great job!” I always wonder if it’s really true.
I think, how can I take credit for a girl like this?! I certainly didn’t have any of that organization or drive when I was her age.
Anyways, what would that mean, to do a good job?
The thing I keep working on is getting out of the way. Most of my parenting instincts take the form of placing limitations: don’t do that, slow down, watch out, is that really a good idea?!
It’s a place where I’m practicing pausing – at least for one moment – to see where she will go if I don’t intervene.
There is nothing worse than a day when she is already too cool to talk with dad. If this is now, what will it be when she is a teenager?!
Where am I not paying attention?
What is the offering I could make that would resonate and create connection again?
What is the thing I think is so important that I need to put aside because it is actually the obstacle?
After 10 years, I still compare myself to other parents. They seem to know what to do.
Look how comfortable they are, casually talking to each other at my daughter’s birthday party.
Look at the clothes their children are wearing.
Look at the vacation they took their children on.
Look how involved they are at the school.
Does my daughter compare me to the other parents as well?
I make assumptions based on my own memories – I certainly made those comparisons when I was a child.
(Was I aware then of all the things my parents did for me? No, not at all! But I could have easily made a list of what I thought they weren’t doing.)
A ten-year-old has already figured out a lot about the world. Some assumptions and beliefs are already well-planted. Pieces of the adult are already there.
But to think we can know which pieces they are is highly doubtful.
Is it really my job to mold her into something?
How would I know which mold it should be?
I don’t have many answers. I’m trying to just stick to the questions. Children are better at asking questions than the rest of us. They don’t stop to ask if it’s a good question, they just ask.
How many times have I refused to ask questions for fear of being exposed for not knowing the answer?
I can also feel resistance to saying these things out loud, for admitting that I don’t have the formula for being an amazing father in my back pocket.
This morning, I just tried to do two things: Stay open. Stay close.
(In other words, resist closing, resist distancing.)
My path has turned out to be as a teacher, a funny choice since I long understood teachers to be the ones that know all the answers.
Becoming comfortable as a teacher has been a process of letting go of that idea.
As I see it these days, I have three primary responsibilities: first, to help my students discover where it’s useful to put their attention, second, to ask relevant questions that help them notice more, third, to model these behaviors to the point where my involvement is no longer necessary.
Another cliché about parenting is that we are our children’s most important teachers. If that’s true, then perhaps the best starting point for the next ten years will be to remember those three ideas.
There’s one more thing I’d like to keep in mind.
My daughter is my teacher.
Really enjoyed this Seth
Thanks for reading, Marsha! 🙂