Hi there. Its me. Over here. See me? Over here? In the corner. Sobbing lightly. Facing the wall. It may be hard to see me for that thing on my head. That humiliating white adornment that labels me. That cone shaped cap.
There I am, thats me.
Because when you get an "F" in parenting, you get to sit in the corner and wear a badge of dishonor.
I am failing miserably at rearing an 11 year old girl that is so much like me, yet so different. All of the insecurities are the same, but the drive and the desire is so different. If she doesn't want to do something she will choose one of the two options: 1. Do it, but do it with no regard, 2. Not do it at all.
Either option has the same reaction from Jim, who most often needs to be reminded that she is only 11. And similarly, it causes me to have to choose. Which one to I have to "talk to" about the choice. Her for making it? Him for getting mad at how she did or didn't complete the task.
Both options send me into a tailspin.
Both options leave me either in tears, or hoarse from "working it out" sometimes very loudly, and mostly pointless. Respectively sick to my stomach as I lose more control of the situation.
So as I sent my daughter off to school again this morning, I found myself even more deflated..
When you fail at parenting, you fail at everything, and it sucks everything from you.