No going back

The step you made was profound, and I can tell you that you have changed.  There's no going back to the moment before you made that realization.  The next steps may come slowly, they may come quickly - but they will come.

We were talking about being a perfect parent at dinner tonight.  My second son and his family were here.  The feeling was that there is no perfect, and perfect would drive everyone crazy anyway.  So the fact that you were short with your son, it just means you are human.  The grace, though, is that you can acknowledge and apologize for the less-than-perfect-parent moments.  I think that is what makes the difference.  That is what makes you a good parent - which is the best we can/should strive for.

It is not something we heard in our home, as children.  Although as I shared, it happened between me and mom when I was an adult, and that was immensely healing.

I guess this has been a theme this weekend.  I had a conversation with my youngest and her best friend about parenting.  I think that our lack of extended family makes parenting harder.  I know things, I learned the hard way, and I can share wisdom with my kids.  But the other side of that is remembering I am not the parent.  They are the parent and just because it's not my way never means that it is wrong or bad.

I agree with you that proactive is   best.  I am not always good at that, though.  There is something in me that always wants to hide.  I am eternally that Catholic schoolgirl, hiding from the nun with the paddle, in terror.  Between Dad and Catholic school, I learned to fear authority, to avoid authority.

Had another strange dream last night.  My ex was killed in an explosion. I was mourning him and realized I was the only one who knew.  I had to call his dad to let him know what happened.  When I woke up I had the same feeling as I had had earlier this week - with the sheep.  I had to sit for a minute and try to discern waking reality for dream reality.  It was so real.  So obviously something is dying and I am processing it at night.

I'm not watching the Superbowl tonight...are you?

Love, Clare