Parenting and the Self

There’s likely nothing easy about parenting. To the average parent, the joyous, love-filled moments with their kids are few and far between, or they are short lived. The deeply felt emotional connection that a parent may feel in the quiet of the night, may get overridden by extreme anxiety about their child’s future or well-being. Soon, a loving moment turns into a million catastrophe scenarios in a split second. Maybe that’s just me… but I have the feeling I’m not alone.

Moreover, as we grow as parents, we often hear our own parents’ voices resonating in our heads. If we are lucky, those voices sound like support, but for most of us, those come in quickly, unexpectedly, as if your body has been hijacked by a strange creature that sounds and moves just like your parent. You quickly realize what just happened and desperately want to take it back, but it feels like it’s too late. You are mad at yourself for having uttered words that don’t even feel like your own, and that there were once hurtful to you as a child… and now… your child is crying even harder and is literally pushing you away.

You are a good parent. You try hard. You read the books and articles. You listen to the sound advice of therapists, close friends, and parenting experts. You really REALLY try. And still, your child is digging their heels, throwing the loudest tantrums, pushing you, hitting you, rejecting you… you feel at a loss. It feels it will never change.

I-GET-IT. Parenting is hard. Parenting when you are exhausted, depleted, sick, arguing with your partner or don’t have a partner, is even harder. Perfect parenting doesn’t exist. The idea that we will respond in the most reflective, contained and containing ways when our child is dysregulated… is just an idea. It’s not reality. Parents are also human, and that is an important lesson for kids to learn.

With that in mind and with all the compassion for yourself that you can fathom, when your own nervous system is more regulated and you can also take in a different perspective, that’s the time to think about your parenting. Because there’s always something new that you can learn about an interaction with your child. What is the world like from his/her perspective in a moment of distress? What was happening right before? What do you think your child is hoping you could understand? And of course… what was happening with you? Was there something taking over your being in a particularly hard moment that you couldn’t control? Is there judgement? Criticism? Is there room for curiosity around your own experience as well? How do you wish you could be supported in that challenging moment?

Parenting is a layered experience, and it often feels that we can only scratch at its surface. I have young kids but I often fantasize about being a grandmother, one of those figures that can quiet a room with the mere presence of existing. Instead, while I’m painfully aware of my gratitude for the family I have (painfully because the awareness touches on deeper cords as well) I find myself frantically running around all day, with each minute devoted to something else while having the desire to slow down, limited by the impossibility of time… I think that I’m a good mom, but that I will probably be a better grandmother. I wish I could spend a lot more connective moments with my kids instead of constantly feeling that there’s not enough time to work, or cook, or get them places… and when I’m immersed in those thoughts and my heart gets sad and vulnerable, my child needs me. I hear a “mommy!”… or both my kids start to fight… again I feel the familiar irritation, the rolling of my eyes because I’m being interrupted from writing this very piece, and yet there’s something inside that maybe, if I’m lucky, gets a bit softer… that’s the goal. As a therapist, my advice about your parenting will likely be irrelevant. But, helping you find the moments of softness and growth, inch by inch, next time your child needs you… then that’s a win.