Multiple Shots to the Heart

When do you stop beating yourself up? Do you stop before or after you are bruised? That’s just one of many things going through my mind lately. For those of you who know me, that will come as a surprise. "Joe has thoughts? Wow! Who knew!"

The last couple of days have been a real struggle despite my recent optimistic look on things. The kids (I love them more than I ever thought humanly possible) have been...challenging. Mander is really testing boundaries and then when pressed, apologizes "to never, ever do it again." Luker is cutting (what I hope) are his last several baby teeth and is grouchy, stubborn, and full of fits. He is also addicted to the "truck" video. Amanda picked out two DVDs as Valentines for Luke - one all about construction equipment and the other about fire trucks. The challenge with those DVDs is just how many times I can stand watching those same videos prior to my brain oozing out of my ears. Thankfully, there’s no purple dinosaur or singing kids anywhere in the DVD.

I know that dealing with kids comes with the territory of being a parent. When that kid contract was signed at the hospital to take my kids home, I knew what I was signing and what it entailed. However, I remember seeing two lines on that contract, and I signed it second! (If there only were a contract!)

I am not looking for sympathy. That is NOT what this blog is about. I am just writing. I know I have written on this topic before. But guess what? I am still beating myself up about how I am doing as a parent. I love being a dad. I have said that before. I just wonder - am I doing this right? Am I too hard on Amanda? Probably. Am I too easy on Luke? Probably. Is Amanda strong because she doesn’t want to upset me? After all, she is the one who wipes my tears away when she see them falling down my cheek. When you have someone to bounce problems off of your decisions are easier to regulate and just plain easier to make. Everyone knows daughters can wrap dads around any of their ten little fingers and still have nine fingers left for more wrapping. I have a hard time being stern with Amanda. She seems so fragile and I don’t want to "scar" her any further. Well-meaning people keep telling me that "kids can handle so much more than we give them credit for." I know that is true. But what if Amanda and Luke are the exceptions?

In professional boxing, there’s no headgear. In amateur boxing, they have head gear and a belt to protect from low blows. Unfortunately, raising kids is the big time - no safety gear is provided.

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In a side note, today at church I signed the communication card (to show attendance, prayer requests, address/phone change, etc.) "Joe & Cindy". I didn't catch what I wrote for about 10 minutes. Some habits are hard to break.