There is something special about the relationship between fathers and their daughters... My own relationship with my dad has always been one of the best in my life...he is the one man that I have always been able to count on, who does not ever let me down, and always wants the best for me. He is protective, but has always given me plenty of room to follow my own path, and make my own mistakes...and is usually the one that picks me up and dusts me off following one of those mistakes, telling me that I will be just fine.
O has been on a "daddy" kick herself... In typical three-year-old fashion she has told me several times over the last few weeks that she wants to play with daddy instead of me. She tells me this in her very manner of fact way, and I just smile and try to pretend I understand. The thing is I sort of do understand... she and I have certain personality traits that are very much alike, and there are plenty of times that we just annoy each other because we are so much alike. We are both stubborn, both like to be in control of a situation, and we both know the best way to do almost everything. That often results in my playing the "mommy is boss" card, which I am sure is frustrating to her. Why wouldn't it be easier for O to be with her dad?
So, I wonder... will it always be this way? Will it always be easier for O to be with her dad? Does he have an easier time letting her be herself? With me, I see how she reacts to situations and I can't help but think "this is how it started for me"... I want her to be her best self, and I don't want to see her put herself through some of the things I have been through. I like to think that some of the lessons it took me years to learn, I could teach her early so that she can avoid learning them the hard way. But can I really do that? Will she let me? Does she have to figure all of that out for herself to really get it? Maybe, I am suppose to take a lesson from my own dad and just step back and let her make her own mistakes...
Sunday, January 31, 2010
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Kissing Frogs (and maybe some Princes, too)...
I ran into someone that I will call a friend of a friend over the weekend...let's call her a "mentor" of sorts. She is probably twenty-five to thirty years older than me and has been through some hard times in her life...has lost not one love to cancer, but two, and continues to look for romance. Every time I see her she has several stories about her on-line dating exploits... the woman has the best attitude and usually has me laughing so hard that tears are rolling down my face! She has come into my life on several occasions where I was having my own romantic crisis...and she is always coaching me on how I need to make sure I am really getting myself out there. While I haven't followed her advice to get involved in on-line dating, I have taken her words of encouragement to heart and thought about my own attitude.
When I compare myself to her, I realize that the only real difference between the two of us is that she went through the heartbreak of burying her two husbands, while I left mine behind. Her husbands went to the grave knowing that they were loved, and she knew that she had their love in return. My husbands broke my heart, and I have gone on without them not knowing if anyone will ever really love me again (or maybe ever did?). So, while she is secure in the knowledge that there can be "another", I am always afraid to fall in love with another one...convinced that more heartbreak is ultimately in store. I have let my fears dictate how willing I am to put myself out there, while she does not even hesitate to find her next love.
This past weekend she was sharing with me some pictures of the men she had dated over the course of 2009...and there were several. In each case, at some point she had put an "x" through them and stuck a frog sticker (yes, an actual frog sticker) on their face... But I noticed that there was one guy that suddenly appeared and didn't seem to get marked... When I asked what his story was, she smiled and said "you have to kiss a lot of frogs, but eventually you will find a prince. You'll never find him if you don't kiss some frogs...". He is her latest prince...
The timing of our conversation was fateful it would seem... I myself recently spent time with someone after six months of a self-imposed "timeout" from dating. I gave myself this timeout because the whole thing was making me crazy...worrying about what it would mean to be dating, worrying about how I would feel with someone new, worry, worry, worry... Where was the fun? None of it seemed fun, so it seemed best just to leave it alone for a while. And then, by accident, there was someone who actually sparked some genuine interest for the first time in a while... So, two fun dates later, it didn't work out...but the best lesson is this: I can do it... I can go out, have fun, and just let things be what they are, without letting fear complicate everything. I met someone new, got to know them a little bit, and did "big girl" things for a couple of nights... There is no reason to feel bad about any of that...
Ultimately, I have figured out that while I may not really know where love belongs in my life for the long-term (though I still haven't changed my "no more husbands" mantra), I do know that in the short-term I am finally ready to kiss some frogs... I am ready to just have some fun, meet some people, and see what happens next. And to my two-date friend (and you know who you are)... I am not calling you a frog... I like to think you really are a Prince...just not mine.
When I compare myself to her, I realize that the only real difference between the two of us is that she went through the heartbreak of burying her two husbands, while I left mine behind. Her husbands went to the grave knowing that they were loved, and she knew that she had their love in return. My husbands broke my heart, and I have gone on without them not knowing if anyone will ever really love me again (or maybe ever did?). So, while she is secure in the knowledge that there can be "another", I am always afraid to fall in love with another one...convinced that more heartbreak is ultimately in store. I have let my fears dictate how willing I am to put myself out there, while she does not even hesitate to find her next love.
This past weekend she was sharing with me some pictures of the men she had dated over the course of 2009...and there were several. In each case, at some point she had put an "x" through them and stuck a frog sticker (yes, an actual frog sticker) on their face... But I noticed that there was one guy that suddenly appeared and didn't seem to get marked... When I asked what his story was, she smiled and said "you have to kiss a lot of frogs, but eventually you will find a prince. You'll never find him if you don't kiss some frogs...". He is her latest prince...
The timing of our conversation was fateful it would seem... I myself recently spent time with someone after six months of a self-imposed "timeout" from dating. I gave myself this timeout because the whole thing was making me crazy...worrying about what it would mean to be dating, worrying about how I would feel with someone new, worry, worry, worry... Where was the fun? None of it seemed fun, so it seemed best just to leave it alone for a while. And then, by accident, there was someone who actually sparked some genuine interest for the first time in a while... So, two fun dates later, it didn't work out...but the best lesson is this: I can do it... I can go out, have fun, and just let things be what they are, without letting fear complicate everything. I met someone new, got to know them a little bit, and did "big girl" things for a couple of nights... There is no reason to feel bad about any of that...
Ultimately, I have figured out that while I may not really know where love belongs in my life for the long-term (though I still haven't changed my "no more husbands" mantra), I do know that in the short-term I am finally ready to kiss some frogs... I am ready to just have some fun, meet some people, and see what happens next. And to my two-date friend (and you know who you are)... I am not calling you a frog... I like to think you really are a Prince...just not mine.
Sunday, January 17, 2010
Church...
I grew up in a Catholic family... My parents sent the three of us to a Catholic grade school, where we went to church once during the week as part of classes. Sunday, we went to church as a family...and we never missed. I learned all the "rules" about being a good Catholic from both school and my family, and mostly followed them out of fear when I was young.
As an adult, I couldn't help but start to question a lot of those rules... First my own parents got divorced, and one of their major issues during their marriage had been the fact that my mom had to give up her religion and become a Catholic in order to marry my dad. Instead of bringing them closer together, that always was a source of resentment. And, sure enough, as soon as they were divorced, my mom left the Catholic church.
Then there is my history... First husband was Baptist... he had more rules than I ever learned as a Catholic, most of which I didn't really understand the purpose of. We finally agreed not to talk about religion until we had children, because it was always a contentious subject. That worked out just fine...no children, no religion discussion...and eventually, no marriage either. Husband number two... raised as a Catholic and stuck with it as an adult. This I thought I could do... until we went to church for the first time together and the priest started to interrogate me about my divorce and my intentions toward number two. Not the most welcoming introduction back to being Catholic...
When O was born we baptised her in the Catholic church... They accepted her because of her dad and the fact that my history is not her fault (they didn't say it exactly that way, but that is my interpretation of the conversation I had with the lady who coordinates the whole thing). I wanted O to have this despite my own mixed feelings about church... I want her to be able to make the choice some day about being Catholic (or not) and have experienced religion in her life to figure out if it works for her. The good news is that her dad does take her to church... The bad news is that she and I have gone once together, on Easter, mostly because we went with the rest of my family.
So, the programmed Catholic in me feels guilty about never going to church and really teaching O very much about religion. I also feel like a hypocrite for saying she should have it in her life, when I don't even really have it in my own. If I can't figure it out for me, how do I help her? I do believe that there is something bigger than all of us and I try to believe that all things happen for a reason, that none of us get more to deal with than we can handle, etc. But I also believe you need to control your own destiny, and I have a hard time with the idea of just letting go and putting faith in something other than me to get things done. So, how do I keep religion in O's life and give her the information she will need to someday make her own choices about what is right for her (especially when I don't have any of it figured out for me)?
As an adult, I couldn't help but start to question a lot of those rules... First my own parents got divorced, and one of their major issues during their marriage had been the fact that my mom had to give up her religion and become a Catholic in order to marry my dad. Instead of bringing them closer together, that always was a source of resentment. And, sure enough, as soon as they were divorced, my mom left the Catholic church.
Then there is my history... First husband was Baptist... he had more rules than I ever learned as a Catholic, most of which I didn't really understand the purpose of. We finally agreed not to talk about religion until we had children, because it was always a contentious subject. That worked out just fine...no children, no religion discussion...and eventually, no marriage either. Husband number two... raised as a Catholic and stuck with it as an adult. This I thought I could do... until we went to church for the first time together and the priest started to interrogate me about my divorce and my intentions toward number two. Not the most welcoming introduction back to being Catholic...
When O was born we baptised her in the Catholic church... They accepted her because of her dad and the fact that my history is not her fault (they didn't say it exactly that way, but that is my interpretation of the conversation I had with the lady who coordinates the whole thing). I wanted O to have this despite my own mixed feelings about church... I want her to be able to make the choice some day about being Catholic (or not) and have experienced religion in her life to figure out if it works for her. The good news is that her dad does take her to church... The bad news is that she and I have gone once together, on Easter, mostly because we went with the rest of my family.
So, the programmed Catholic in me feels guilty about never going to church and really teaching O very much about religion. I also feel like a hypocrite for saying she should have it in her life, when I don't even really have it in my own. If I can't figure it out for me, how do I help her? I do believe that there is something bigger than all of us and I try to believe that all things happen for a reason, that none of us get more to deal with than we can handle, etc. But I also believe you need to control your own destiny, and I have a hard time with the idea of just letting go and putting faith in something other than me to get things done. So, how do I keep religion in O's life and give her the information she will need to someday make her own choices about what is right for her (especially when I don't have any of it figured out for me)?
Sunday, January 3, 2010
Do we know how to play?
I was talking with a friend recently about how different being a kid is today from when we grew up... I remember how my own mom would practically throw us out of the house each morning to run with the rest of the neighbor kids until lunch. Lunch meant we could come home to eat and then we were immediately sent back out for the afternoon. The entire summer went that way... When it was Christmas break or Easter break, it was generally the same thing. Our parents didn't plan our entire summer or Christmas or Easter vacations for us...we were expected to use our imaginations and create our own entertainment.
I just spent the past week home with O...no school for her, and time away from work for me. I found myself planning things...ice skating, a play date with school friends, seeing the latest Disney movie, etc. So, what I wonder is this... Do parents plan all of these activities for their kids or do we do it to entertain ourselves? Do we know how to "play" with our kids? With all of the things in our day-to-day lives, do we just not know anymore how to stay home and do nothing when we have the chance?
As parents we have created the idea that our kids need us to entertain them...whether that means enrolling them in all sorts of activities or lining up things for them to do. What would happen if we just let them play and be kids? What if they learned to use the imaginations that they were born with? Or, is this really about the secret fear that our kid will be the only one who didn't learn how to play soccer, take ballet, or swim before the age of five? Has it all turned into a competition? Does being the best parent now mean making sure your child isn't the only one to not do something?
Have we got our kids so scheduled that they don't have the chance to just be kids? We spent our toddler years just playing... our parents didn't worry like we do about whether or not we would be "behind" if we went to kindergarten without knowing how to read. Isn't that what school is for? To teach our kids what they need to know? We learned what we needed to and grew up and went to college and got jobs...and then turned into crazy people who worry our own kids might miss something.
I don't have the answer... I know that I miss the carefree days of being a kid, with no responsibility and the ability to live in the moment without thinking about what comes next. I want that for my own daughter... I want her to have the chance to just be a kid and not worry about being smarter, or more talented, or more "ready" for school than her friends. But, I admit...I am planning things to do tomorrow when the two of us have nothing to do...because I just don't know if I can sit still for another Curious George episode...
I just spent the past week home with O...no school for her, and time away from work for me. I found myself planning things...ice skating, a play date with school friends, seeing the latest Disney movie, etc. So, what I wonder is this... Do parents plan all of these activities for their kids or do we do it to entertain ourselves? Do we know how to "play" with our kids? With all of the things in our day-to-day lives, do we just not know anymore how to stay home and do nothing when we have the chance?
As parents we have created the idea that our kids need us to entertain them...whether that means enrolling them in all sorts of activities or lining up things for them to do. What would happen if we just let them play and be kids? What if they learned to use the imaginations that they were born with? Or, is this really about the secret fear that our kid will be the only one who didn't learn how to play soccer, take ballet, or swim before the age of five? Has it all turned into a competition? Does being the best parent now mean making sure your child isn't the only one to not do something?
Have we got our kids so scheduled that they don't have the chance to just be kids? We spent our toddler years just playing... our parents didn't worry like we do about whether or not we would be "behind" if we went to kindergarten without knowing how to read. Isn't that what school is for? To teach our kids what they need to know? We learned what we needed to and grew up and went to college and got jobs...and then turned into crazy people who worry our own kids might miss something.
I don't have the answer... I know that I miss the carefree days of being a kid, with no responsibility and the ability to live in the moment without thinking about what comes next. I want that for my own daughter... I want her to have the chance to just be a kid and not worry about being smarter, or more talented, or more "ready" for school than her friends. But, I admit...I am planning things to do tomorrow when the two of us have nothing to do...because I just don't know if I can sit still for another Curious George episode...
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