My boys + I on Easter Sunday.
Happy Wednesday, folks.
Last week, I signed-off knowing full-well that I would soon have more to reveal to you about something very personal to me. I will get back to that today…
…but first, I want to thank those of you who send notes when you relate to, or at least empathize or appreciate, my blog posts. What a tremendous gift to share myself with you. {wink – you already know that my bellybutton talks to me, but did you know that I can’t wink to save my life?}
Let me catch you up to speed if you missed last week’s blog.
Here’s the short version – if you want the long version, click here.
1) My partner and I have been dancing around a parenting issue since we met
2) It came to a head last week
3) I lost my cool in front of the kiddos
Needless to say I spent a restless night beside the man I love after that one.
The next morning, after he left for work, I brought the kids in for a love huddle.
With my eyes locked on each of theirs, I apologized to them individually for how I had let them down just one sleep before. With love, they accepted. With hugs, we all started our day anew – with a better understanding of our strengths + weaknesses.
It was just the two of us that night for dinner…Alex was with his mom and Colin + Sam were at practice with their dad.
In the past, those moments – alone with him after an argument – were painful.
But this time was different.
It was quiet, but with breathing room – not resentment.
When the silence broke, we listened to one another share our experience about the night before. Less about the argument, and more about the underlying issue that was taking up precious real estate in our home.
We, too, left the conversation with a better understanding of our strengths + weaknesses.
As parents, we walk fine lines like circus performers.
In this particular case, it’s the often-blurry line of parent-child boundaries.
When I met Dom, it was just him + Alex. And I remember thinking that the line between father and son seemed blurry. I didn’t want to judge, and what did I know? I had never raised an 11-year old before…I didn’t know what that was “supposed” to look like. But my bellybutton – the big-mouth that it is – told me that walking that fine line could result in a spill.
And over the years, it caused more than one argument between us.
I was raised with a mother and a father who stuck together [in front of us anyway because I’m confident looking back that they didn’t always agree]. They doted on us, but their relationship came first. My brother and I never took the place of one of my parents.
My mother believed that a strong marriage developed strong children.
I think she was right.
Did I give up the hope of that in my divorce? I don’t remember signing anything to that effect, but somehow, it started to feel out of my grasp.
No matter how uncomfortable it made me over the years, something undeniable did come of it in the last several months.
In addition to the day-to-day things Alex shared with us, he also started talking about things of significance in his life. Details of the good – and not-so-good – with his first experience in love. The pressures he faced, and sometimes succumbed to, with drugs and alcohol. The challenges he had playing catch-up in school.
How he really felt.
What he was really doing.
What was on his plate.
It was fascinating to me because I know for a fact I rarely shared those details with my own parents. And we were close. But there was a line between us. I knew if I shared certain pieces of myself with them that there would be:
1) unconditional love, that I really needed in that moment.
2) disappointment, that I didn’t.
Alex doesn’t seem to see that line. And Domenick doesn’t think the line is blurred – so maybe it’s just me, and I’m wrong, and we are perfectly aligned – stranger things have happened.
To clarify, I think a close, mutually respectful relationship between parents and their children is a wonderful thing. I also think that when a child – no matter the age – doesn’t have an appropriate place in their home, they could have trouble building their own identity – easily becoming an extension of the parent.
And we should all get really clear that they aren’t.
I want my kids to come to me. I know that now more than ever. I feel so thankful to know what is happening is Alex’s life.
Here’s what I don’t want – I don’t want to just hope or pretend that these things won’t pop up in their lives. And I also don’t want to turn the other cheek and say “kids will be kids” because I don’t subscribe to that excuse.
I want them to come to me knowing that in doing so, the way I may support them could be via consequences that they don’t like – not because they think our home doesn’t have boundaries.
I love them – very much.
I like them – very much.
But let me be clear – I am not their friend right now. I am their mother.
Perhaps it is wishful thinking, but I want them to come to me because:
- they trust that I can see further ahead [and behind] than they can.
- they know beyond a shadow-of-a-doubt that I always have their – not my – best interest in mind.
- they remember that over the years, I have given them thoughtful, sound advice.
- they look back on their life and know that I have always told them the truth.
Even when it makes me look bad.
And because:
- they know I protect them.
- they know I give them room to grow.
- they know forgiveness is in my heart – without them needing to ask for it.
- they know that I am big enough to admit when I am wrong or don’t have the answer.
Like last week.
And this week allowed for a rebirth in our home. Just in time for Easter.
So as I write today’s blog, a couple of times I felt like I should add “one day we can be friends”, but I don’t think I mean that! So you can’t make me say it {wink}.
My Juicy Glad-I-Caught-That: The symbolic language of the crucifixion is the death of the old paradigm; resurrection is a leap into a whole new way of thinking. ~Deepak Chopra
The truth is that I don’t see my own folks as friends.
We go away together. We eat linner [our lunch/dinner] together on Sundays. We share clothes and text with emoticons. We live on the same property, for goodness sakes.
But they are my parents.
And I am their child.
I love the friends that I do have, but I only have one set of parents, and I want them to stay that for me for the rest of my life.
And I want to give my boys the best of who I am as their mama for the rest of theirs.
See you on the flip-side.
In love,
Noelle
xoxox