If I had hair, I’d pull it out! Yes I would!
That’s how I feel many days being a parent.
Don’t get me wrong. I love my son. I really do. He’s so much fun and he’s such a good boy—well, he is fun almost all of the time and most of the time, he’s a good boy.
It’s those times that he’s not so good that drives me crazy.
One minute, Evan is talking back to me. Telling me what he’s going to do or not do. Telling me why I don’t know what I’m talking about. Yeah. It’s those times that I just want to scream. And, it’s during those times that I’ve lost it with him.
Then, just as soon as I’m ready to lose what little hair and mind I have left, Evan will look at me and say, “Daddy, you are the best Daddy in the world. I love you.”
In less than 60 seconds, I go from being ready to do bodily damage to his backside to wanting to hold him as close to me as possible and to tell him how much I love him.
This parenting stuff isn’t for the faint at heart.
I want to be a good parent. I want to be the best father possible. Yet, most days I find myself thinking about my shortcomings, failures, and the times I missed an opportunity to teach Evan something or to simply love on him one more time.
Those days haunt me. They really do.
I have one opportunity to get this right with my son. One moment in time. To teach him to be a man. To teach him to be a father. To raise him to love God. To love him.
Lord, I need your help to be the parent You want me to be. I need Your strength and wisdom. I am helpless without You. Amen.
One thing I think is crucial is to remember what I heard once (I'm not smart enough to think this up myself...): Children will remember some of what you tell them, more of what you do, but they will never forget how you make them feel.
ReplyDeleteOne incident with my nephew bears repeating. When he was about 5 stand out: he was at our home and was running in the hall (which I'd told Art's kids not to do). I stepped out of the kitchen and he ran into me, and I leaned down and said "Kevin, I've told you, don't run in our house, please". His reaction? He hit me.
So I stood up and backhanded him square in the middle of his chest .. right about the sternum. It knocked him flat on his back and before he could move I got down on my knees over him and poked him in the chest with my forefinger as I said it and I said "Don't you ever hit me again, do you hear me?" He said yes and I made him repeat it until he finally said "Yes sir".
Then I picked him up and gave him a big hug and told him "I love you too much to let you get away with stuff like that".
Some years later, after the party for mom & dad's 50th anniversary, he expressed an interest in the Bible, and we went downstairs and I explained the gospel to him and he prayed a prayer of a repentant sinner.
To my brother's dying day, I had a better relationship with his sons, than he did. Sadly.