My "Monday" Failures

When my feet him the floor this morning, I had no idea what this morning was going to bring.

I consider myself to be a morning person. It may take me a few minutes to wake up but I do. My son, on the other hand is anything but a morning person.

This morning I was running a little (not much) behind. I try to get out the door by a certain time give or take 5 minutes. It's funny how running late by anything over five minutes can trigger the thought that "today is going to be a bad day." Add to that, the fact that you're in a vehicle with someone who isn't 100% awake and it can be recipe for disaster. At least for me. Why is that?

I love my son. Hopefully everyone that knows me knows I do. Hopefully he knows I do. Mornings like today, I guarantee he has doubts that I even like him that much. I hate the repercussions of an argument. I hate the fact that in one second my mouth can utter words that are emotionally damaging. More than that I hate how my "ego" will work at trying to justify my behavior.

Being a single parent has been the most difficult and the most challenging thing for me. On days like today I second guess myself and wonder whether or not I am succeeding or am I failing in the parenting department. Am I the only person who feels this way when it comes to raising their child? Did my own parents ever play the game of "trial and error" while they were raising us? Why do I get so angry with him? Is it because I see some of my behavioral patterns in him that I want to correct? What is this stage of his life anyway? Is it a product of being raised solely with a mother and not having a father in his life, or is it just an "age thing?" (Does anyone have Dr. Dobson's phone number? I could really use some answers/advice!)

I am a pretty vocal person. (shocking, I know!) But there are a lot of things that I keep to myself. Huh...maybe herein lies my problem? I know Nick can't understand some of what I wrestle with. (sometimes I don't even understand what I wrestle with....) And honestly, most of the things I don't want him to know. I believe there will come a day that he'll understand without me even talking to him about them.

Sometimes I wish that I could erase some of the things I said to my parents when I was his age. I can't even begin to imagine how many times they may have wanted to pack my bags and send me off to boarding school or boot camp. I guess they call all of this "tough love." My mom was always the quiet one, the "wait until your dad gets in," the "I love you even when you don't think I do," mom. And the mom that must have shed a ton of tears behind closed doors. My dad held the reigns of being the disciplinarian. (and he held them well!) My dad rarely showed us affection physically or verbally but he was a protector. He had a temper and rarely did one of us dare "cross" him, unless we were completely out of our minds! For thirteen years I have had to play both of those roles. Some days I simply want to be the one that cries behind closed doors rather than the one that disciplines.


I try to find balance. Balance in how I influence my son, balance in how I spend my time with him.
I try to provide for my son. To provide emotionally as well as financially.
I try to be an example to my son. To teach him the importance of morals and values, emotions and expressions, actions and accountability, courtesy and compassion, responsibility and respect. This morning I failed in displaying any of these characteristics.

Will he one day understand the "unseen" sacrifices that a parent makes for their child? God I hope so.

Will I one day be able to look back on these years and feel a sense of accomplishment in knowing that I did the absolute best in raising my child? Or will I carry regrets?

Immediately after dropping Nick off this morning, with the echo of anger still lingering in the car, I glanced at the empty passenger seat beside me. And for a moment I was reminded that I am blessed to have that seat occupied. For as difficult as this single-parenting journey is for me I can't imagine having it any other way.