Father’s Day is a Tough One

Father’s Day is a challenge for me. Every year. I am, however, getting better at it.  In my family, I am the 24 x 7 single mom of two teens. My children’s dad moved out of state during the divorce process. This is a long story best shared with a close friend — perhaps over a glass of red wine and some dark chocolate …  but I digress. For my dear blog readers, I would like to share how I have coped with Father’s Day, and the blessings that have come from this.

For the first few years after the divorce, I made a big deal out of talking to my daughters about Father’s Day for a couple of weeks in advance. I would tell them that their dad loved them, and ask what types of handmade gifts they would like to make for him that year. Then we would go craft shopping, create personalized gifts and cards, put together a care package, and mail it off to him.

The problem with this is that I was not only telling my daughters what they should do, I was also telling them how they should feel. My daughters are different people with different life experiences and different developmental levels. Some years they both wanted to make gifts. Other years one would want to make or buy a gift, and the other one would find any excuse to avoid the whole thing.

Now that they are 13 years old and 16 years old, I wait for them to bring up Father’s Day. I think this is healthy. If either of them wants to get him a gift, I always support that and pay for it. Now that they have their own phones, they are welcome to communicate with their dad on any day however they choose, but I don’t dictate this. I no longer answer the phone and call out, “Your father loves you and wants to talk to you!” I am less stressed out, and so are they. In an attempt to be a “good mom”, I was not always authentic. I whitewashed things, and they knew it.

I’m not sure what each of them will choose to do for Father’s Day this year. My guess is that my younger daughter will want to buy her dad a carefully chosen gift from Amazon and my older daughter will take a pass. Whatever they choose is okay. Their relationships with their dad are theirs, not mine. Respecting this is a lesson that took me a long time to learn, but it has helped to make our lives better.

I will be extra sensitive to my daughters’ needs on Father’s Day, knowing that most of their friends will get to spend Father’s Day with their perfectly imperfect dads. I will also hug the stuffing out of them. I like to do this on the other 364 days out of the year, too.

 

I wish you and your children a happy and peaceful Father’s Day. I would love to hear your comments on this post.

 

Liz Possible is a Writer and Single Mom Extraordinaire. She lives in Minnesota with her two teenage daughters and their cats, Beau and Phoebe. “Possible” is her attitude, not her legal name — but then you knew that. Follow Liz at her blog at www.lizpossible.com and her FaceBook page at https://www.facebook.com/MySingleMomLife/

 

Advantages of a Perfectly Imperfect Mom

I am a perfectly imperfect mom. I come from a long line of women like this — women who do their best, women who make messes, women who clean up those messes, women who KEEP GOING. There are advantages of having a perfectly imperfect mom. Here are a few of them:

Perfectly Imperfect moms turn their mistakes into valuable life lessons

Around the time of my divorce, I said some vile things about my estranged husband to my children. I deeply regret having done this. I was in a great deal of pain at the time, and used poor judgement. After beating myself up about this for a (long) while, I decided to take a healthier approach. I apologized to my children. I explained to them that I was very sad and angry and should not have said those things, and that I would do my best to make amends by not doing that in the future.

Not long ago, one of my daughters called someone a nasty name. I said, “You know how I feel about name calling. That is not an acceptable word in our family.” Her retort was, “You’ve called Dad that!”  I took a deep breath and was able to say, “That’s true. I have called him that, and I apologized for it. I also have not called him that in over 5 years now.”

Will I win mother of the year for not choosing to call my ex names? No. But in the real world of making mistakes and striving to do better, I am proud of this one.

Perfectly Imperfect moms are funny

One day the toilet in my house overflowed. In the midst of grabbing towels and starting to clean up the mess, I yelled “Shit!” at the top of my lungs. My younger daughter immediately scolded me for saying a bad word. I pointed out to her that I was literally cleaning up poop when I yelled that word, therefore I was making an accurate observation.

She asked if she could yell that word, too. I thought this one over, and said that whenever a toilet overflowed in our house, it was okay for anyone to yell “shit”, but that was the only exception to the rule. My kids both laughed with me and have now explained to their friends that you are only allowed to say “shit” in our house if a toilet overflows.

This rule works for me. It also entertains our guests.

Perfectly Imperfect moms do the right thing (even if they don’t do it right away)

When my older daughter was 2 years old, I once sent her to daycare wearing a perfect outfit — adorable yellow overalls, a new floral top, perfectly coordinated socks and new shoes. She looked like she could have been a 2 year old model. I was ridiculously proud of my feat.

When I picked her up that afternoon, she came out with a painting in her hand and exclaimed that she had made it herself. In addition to the paint that was on the paper, there was paint on everything she was wearing, including the shoes. When I saw her beautiful face grinning with pride, I had the presence of mind to take a breath and exclaim, “Cool! Can you tell me about your picture?”  

After that, I sent her to daycare in appropriate play clothes, and expected them to be played in. I also said nothing about the paint to the daycare lady who made my daughter’s days safe and fun so I could earn a living. We both had more important priorities.

So the next time you start to beat yourself up for not being a perfect mom, take a breath and realize that there are no perfect moms. Think about the cool things that you and your children can both learn from your imperfections. Then hug the stuffing out of them (even if they are old enough to pretend that they don’t like it — because they really do).

 

 

Liz Possible is a Writer and Single Mom Extraordinaire. She lives in Minnesota with her two teenage daughters and their cats, Beau and Phoebe. “Possible” is her attitude, not her legal name — but then you knew that.