Some fathers are better than others. Some do some wonderful things, some do some crappy things. And even the best dads make mistakes. We’re human. But hanging on to those mistakes can make the original pain even bigger—you can’t get past age 30 without figuring that one out, as you drag another “resentments against Mom and Dad” tale onto the therapist’s couch. So how to let loose that iron grip on childhood wrongs? How to let go of the rocks of resentment about what Dad did or said, or didn’t do or didn’t say? Here are some ideas:
Our fathers are our protectors, our safety nets, and our biggest fans. Father’s Day is about showing our dads how much we appreciate their unconditional love and support. Whether you’re a mom spending Father’s Day with your dad or hanging out with your hubby and the kiddos, amp up his day with these creative […]
You want to be the best DAD you can possibly be and you WILL be. As you’re navigating through the new days, here are some things to think about…
As kids get older, their ability to pitch in and participate around the house increases and therefore the expectations should increase as well. We are not doing our kids any favors by clearing their dishes for them and coddling them. Giving your children chores every week encourages them to participate and take pride in the care and maintenance of your home. But most importantly it teaches character and self-respect.
This is for the grown children standing dumbfounded in the card aisle. For those who can’t buy a funny card to communicate a relationship that lacked humor. Who can’t claim the best dad ever, the ever-inspiring family kingpin. This is for those of us who want to just say we love you, but loving you hurts.
Play: The pathway to joy! There we were on our hands and knees, crawling across the speckled rubber confetti surface of modern playgrounds, playing peek-a-boo behind a wide pole with our 10-month old son.
Soon after I gave birth to my third child, I received a phone call from my dad. He said, his voice giddy with delight, “Three, huh? That’s a good start!”
I didn’t know whether to laugh or to scream. Three was definitely my upper limit; I had had to negotiate vigorously with my then-husband to get my latest—and last—bundle of joy. But my dad was not just joking. He was sincere in his exuberant encouragement of a large family, believing wholeheartedly in “the more the merrier.” And although I didn’t produce any more children, when he hit a total of twelve grandchildren, he begged my younger siblings to give him a baker’s dozen.
As far back as I can remember, my father has been begging me to write his eulogy. Not because he is actively dying. That would make too much sense. No, he wants to know what I would say and is worried about missing the show. Even though he claims to be a religious man who thinks there are actual pearly gates above and fiery swamps below, he still doesn’t want to risk the chance there won’t be Dolby 5.1 surround sound in in his casket. (Maybe he isn’t as much as of a believer as he thinks he is …) So for my father, on this Father’s Day, I will give him front-row seats to his own funeral. My greatest gift to him thus far. Enjoy, Dad …
Do I really want a another baby, or am I simply yearning for a “do-over” with the first? Hindsight is 20/20, and of course we’d all like to go back and do those first two years with the knowledge of having done it.