“What do I have to do to be good enough so dad will love me?” “How come I have such a bad dad?” “My life won’t be good without a good dad.” And to that I said, “Honey, do I have a bad life? How am I doing? I have a pretty darned good life, don’t I?” And through alligator tears Jenny said, “It’s just not fair. When are you going to get us a real dad?” I wanted to say, “Well it’s not like I can put a post on Craig’s List saying, “Need one great dad for two amazing little people. Must like listening, Barbies, joke telling, card trick teaching, golfing, fishing, bow hunting, skiing and relating. Don’t need husband. Narcissists need not apply.”
And so we continue this bizarre odyssey of trying to navigate a relationship with a guy who is completely clueless about how to relate to his kids.
Mark purchased a new set of golf clubs, new hiking boots, and is shopping for new running shoes for Will. Nice, right? He took Jenny to get a pair of earrings, and said, “Some day I’ll have to get you a bike.” Then he turned to me and said, “Does she need new shoes?” He was standing right next to Jen, but he didn’t ask her that question. Jen looked at me and said, “Mom, I don’t have any good running around shoes.” But he didn’t hear her. He wasn’t listening for an answer to the question he’d asked.
Instead of relating to or listening to his beautiful kids, he buys them things. This isn’t a new thing for divorced couples. But most divorced adults might be cognizant enough to realize that the gift buying should approach fairness, to some degree.
Now, of course, Jen thinks that Mark loves Will more. Will is crying because he feels bad for his sister. Continue reading →
Yesterday’s post was about beauty and insecurity and denying who I am. It was a difficult post to write. I’m not even sure where it came from. Getting that necklace in the mail was akin to jamming a stick of dynamite in a dam that I didn’t even know existed. Feelings, emotions and tears started flowing, and they weren’t going to stop. Apparently, they haven’t stopped yet. I’m not done with the topic, and I’m convinced that this flood is sending me further down the path that I’m supposed to be on. The tidal wave of emotions is pushing me faster, and I’m not afraid. In fact, I can’t wait to see how far it takes me. This is another exercise in authenticity and speaking truth. Both of those expressions are over-used. But if we set out in search of those things, with integrity, the pursuit of authenticity and truth gets us closer to who we are meant to be.
“Will the rest of your party be joining you?” “It’s too bad your dad couldn’t come with on your vacation.” “Father couldn’t join the family on the cruise?” “Shall I wait until the rest of the family gets here?” To the last comment, I politely smiled and said, “This is the entire family.” I started to wonder if the cruise ship passed through some sort of Mexican Riviera version of the Bermuda Triangle and dropped us right in the middle of 1950.
When I tuck Will in at night, he wants to know how many pages he should read before he turns out the light. He wants to know the plan for the next day. He wants to know if he will be allowed a cup of coffee. He wants to know what we’ll be doing for learning work, if he’ll have time to golf, and what we’ll be having for dinner. (I should clarify that he doesn’t need any kind of approval from me on all these things – pages read, golf time. But some things like coffee and dinner and learning work, he does need to hear from me.) When I tuck Jenny in, she is busily putting jammies on her Barbies and barely makes eye contact long enough to say goodnight.
We are home with new freckles on our noses, brown shoulders, sand in our backpacks, some handmade Mexican necklaces that we’ll probably never wear, a new t-shirt for Will, three new stuffed animal buddies for Jen, some nice pictures and a much-needed attitude adjustment. I saw plenty of people squeezing ginormous sombreros into the overhead compartment on the plane. Instead, I came home with a stack of plates on my head.
We’re sending you a May Day Surprise. Since it’s a ‘virtual’ gift we can put in whatever we want – even if it’s not in season.
