Perfectly Imperfect Parenting
We all want to be perfect, or at least in some measurable way we all want to project some level of perfection onto our kids. The truth is we’re not perfect. Not a single one of us. And, the constant striving for perfection will probably end up doing us (and our kids) more harm than good.
Now normally I’m the first to admit that I’m not one of those people who hasn’t failed in life. I’ve been fired from jobs (once right before my wedding, that was fun), I’ve had businesses fail and even got pretty damn near to bankruptcy a few times. And I am happy, at times even proud, of my failures. Mainly because I never made the same one twice, which as anyone who has seen Disney’s Zootopia (seriously, go see it now if you haven’t — don’t worry I’ll be here when you get back) is the most important thing you can do. And it’s largely the truth. We tell ourselves and each other that it’s good to try everything, and even good to fail, so long as we learn from our mistakes.
But apparently all of that goes out the window when you have kids.
Once you have children you want to model perfect behavior for them all day, every day. You want to be nice to strangers. You want to help little old ladies cross the road. You want to not let loose a string of obscenities guaranteed to make the proverbial sailor blush. More likely than not, you’ll drive yourself to levels of anxiety over your perfection in front of your blessed little bundles of joy that your friend Mr. Ulcer will be making a return after a long hiatus following that time you ended up in The Tombs after that Friday night bender.
At least that’s where I was with L. I didn’t want her to see that I was human. That I made mistakes. That I wasn’t perfect. I wanted to be her Superman.
Of course that has come back to bite me in the ass in spectacular fashion on multiple occasions. Over the last few years L has seen me lose my temper and yell at everything from other drivers on nearly every single road I’ve driven on (why the hell can’t some people seem to negotiate a rotary) to a flipped up corner of carpet (I swear to God almighty that damn thing is trying to kill me sometimes). She’s seen me embarrass myself and she’s seen me cry.
But she still thinks I’m amazing.
This taught me something profound — it’s important that she sees me fail because it’s important that she sees me get back up. She needs to see that things don’t always go right and that when they do fall apart we can work together to put them back together. There is no Superman or Wonder Woman — just mom and dad and all of our mistakes trying to be better.
That’s the real superpower that should be communicated to our kids, that we always get back up. We always try again. And we always learn from our mistakes. So don’t hide your imperfections from your kids people, they’re a lot smarter than we think they are.
