Connecting
an exerpt form the newsletter....


Dear Parents,


Have you ever noticed how your own internal dialogue patters on while you are with your children? "I should be playing with the kids: they get too little of my attention," while you're washing the dishes. "I should wash that ugly pile of dishes-what has my home come to?" while you're playing with the children. And when you take a five-minute break, there's "I am just not doing this right at all. My kids deserve better. Why can't I manage?" An insistent voice of dissatisfaction plagues the minds of many of us. And those of us who aren't upset with ourselves may tend to aim dissatisfaction toward our children or our spouses, instead.



When I talk about that voice to parents, almost every parent nods in recognition. What is that voice, and why is it so universal?



We deserve to be pleased with our children, and pleased with the learning we do daily as mothers and fathers. Parenting is a big job. No one can learn actively without making mistakes daily. And no parent has a day without choices that stir up some pain: to earn a living but dash a hopeful child's wish that you could play with them. To play with your child and put him to sleep sweetly, forsaking the time you need with your partner. Taking the time you need with your friends or your partner, but leaving your child sad with someone else when you know he wants and deserves you.



This is the emotional minefield that we run zigzag through each day. If there were more help for parents, we'd relax a bit, breathe a bit. We'd have the time and the hope it takes to build a stronger, more playful community around our families. If there were more help, we'd play more. If there were more help, we'd have people to discuss our parenting dilemmas with, and we'd resolve them, day by day. We'd learn faster. We'd laugh more.



More help would certainly ease our minds somewhat. But even with gobs of help, we parents all share the upset of wanting to do a really good job, and having no path open to us but this: mistakes, moments of togetherness and love, and missed opportunities, all packed tumble-jumble into our hours and days.



Though we can't change these external circumstances overnight, we can do battle with that internal voice of dissatisfaction that spoils moments that are perfectly fine. It's fine to wash the dishes. It's great to play with the kids. We could cheer for ourselves instead of mentally booing after we make the fifteen-minute commitment to choose either dishes or play, keeping the yard up, or going to the park. "I'm a good Mom! I want to do the dishes now!" is a good position to take and hold against that mental nagging.


"I'm a good Dad, and the yard can wait while I play."


"I'm doing my best, and my kids are lucky to have me," makes for a far sunnier internal climate. "My kids are doing their best, and we'll figure out the bickering and the fights one of these days" is a position from which learning is easier to do than, "Darn kids-what's the matter with them! What's the matter with me?" which makes it hard for a parent to embrace those he loves, observe them in their struggles, and experiment to learn more about the needs, feelings, and perceptions that cause difficulty.



It's not our fault parenting is such a challenge. It's not our fault that we nag, either at ourselves or at those we love. But we can do mental cleanup when we find ourselves dissatisfied. Sometimes, what's needed is someone to listen to how hard it is, to the disappointments we carry, to how very hard we try. A good cry about worst moments or a tantrum about the mistakes of the ones we love can do a lot to quiet that voice. We are good. Our children are good. Those we love are good. The choices we make, moment-to-moment and day-to-day, are the best we know how to make. When we can do it better, we certainly will! And until then, we shall wash the dishes without a care. Play while the house is a total mess. Arrange time for someone caring to hear how our hearts are faring. Go out in the evening, hold hands, and smell the night air. We shall come back and snuggle.



We do our best. We do our best.


Patty Wipfler
Executive Director