Have you ever felt so disappointed that nothing was going the way you wanted it to? Maybe your children weren’t listening or following directions? Maybe you felt like everything they were doing was a direct attack on you? Maybe if you could just get your children to change? There was a meme that has been shared many times that shows a parent looking down at their child with the quote “You’re making it difficult to be the parent I always dreamed I’d be.” I spent many years feeling like this couldn’t be truer. What that meme is ultimately saying is that it’s all the children’s fault. If we could just fix them, we could have this magical parenting experience, which after years of struggle, I’m learning couldn’t be further from the truth.

One of my biggest aha moments as a parent came after reading Dr Shefali Tsabary’s book, Out of Control. Dr Tsabary explains that one of the biggest disconnects between parents and their children is the movies that parents create in their head and then project onto their children. We have these images, these dreams and these movies of them being the soccer star, maybe even getting a scholarship, mastering the piano, continuing the family traditions, excelling at something we failed at or maybe doing any of the things that we wished we had done. We often believe these things before our kids are even born. The disconnect comes into play when we project these movies onto our children. In reality, our children aren’t even aware that these movies existed in the first place. They never auditioned, signed a contract, saw the script or even knew a movie was in production in the first place. The more we push it on them, the more disconnected from us they feel. I still find myself creating this movie, and to be honest, that’s ok, as long as I don’t project it onto my children (or anyone in my life, for that matter, but that’s another post, for another day). In the book, The Prophet, Kahlil Gibran explains “Your children are not your children. They are the sons and daughters of Life’s longing for itself. They come through you but not from you. And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.” I had to let that sink in and think about what this means to me. The answer is this: my children are their own unique individuals sent directly from God/the Universe/Source/some higher power (use whatever word you want here, but again, this is another post for another day). My children, spiritually speaking, are equal to me. They have their own bright lights inside them. If I expect them to blindly follow my movie, I am doing a huge disservice to developing the essence of who they are. It means that I may not always know what is best for my child. Even though I may have more experience and wisdom, they are still entitled to their own thoughts and beliefs. Only they are able to connect with their true essence. And guess what, it’s ok, or maybe even something to be celebrated, if they are completely different than me.

So all this brings me to when my 4th and youngest child recently went off to full day kindergarten. I’ve always been the person that loved babies and wanted a big family but I’ve also always been the person who has my own big dreams and desires, which has been a conflict with the kids at home. So as you can imagine, my feelings towards my youngest going off to school have been mixed. On the one hand, I’ve been excited to have time to pursue other avenues in life, like writing this blog. On the other hand though, it feels like the end of an era. I was excited and sad all in the same breath.  So I thought about that day often. My movie was beautiful. We would all wake up happy, on time and so excited to go back to school. Our elementary school only allows you to walk your children to their classroom on their first day of kindergarten. I wanted to be able to walk him to his class. I wanted to get that same picture of him with his teachers from the classroom door that I had gotten for his older siblings. I wanted to have that one last hug good bye as I tearfully watched him happily join his classmates. I wanted to close that chapter with equal parts joy and sadness.

Luckily for my son, I had already read Dr Tsabary’s work. So even though my plan was beautiful, I knew that it was his first day of kindergarten, not mine. So I asked if he wanted me to walk him or take the bus. After watching his siblings ride that big yellow bus for his whole life, he immediately told me that he wanted the bus. I’m not gonna lie, I was a little disappointed at the thought of not getting that one last time to walk my youngest child to their classroom, but I pulled myself together and re-wrote the script to include taking him to the bus stop instead. Our family would walk to the bus, he would give me a big hug and kiss good bye, then happily join his siblings and friends to get on the bus. He would sit at a window seat and wave to me happily as the bus drove away. I’d fight tears throughout the morning but be thankful for this new chapter in my life. In my mind, it was perfect! Maybe even Oscar worthy…. I’m sure you all at this point know where this is going…

Now let’s talk about what actually happened on that first day of school. Long story short, he had no interest in my movie, going to school, getting dressed or even waking up for that matter. After lots of persuading, we made it to the bus stop but he also wasn’t interested in getting on the bus. So after a few minutes of trying to persuade, push and bribe him to get on it, we aborted that decision and watched the bus drive away without Matthew on it. We quickly hopped in the car and drove to school. Maybe I would get that magical walk to his classroom like I had envisioned? Yeah, nope, I basically pushed him down the hallway (why does the kindergarten classroom have to be so far from the entrance?!). He reluctantly walked into the classroom without so much as a glance or good bye hug. No ‘good bye’, no picture with the teacher, and an unhappy 5 year old. Through all of the chaos, I didn’t even have a chance to think about my own emotions. I had to stay fully present and focus solely on my son and getting him to class. In hindsight, I think that’s the best outcome possible because it was his day, not mine. As I walked away, I wasn’t sure if I should consider myself successful or a huge failure. I mean, he was *in* the classroom and on time, but nothing went the way I had ‘planned.’

The truth is, that whether that day was successful or a failure is completely up to me and 100% decided by the thoughts in my head. He is not my first child to be tentative about going to school, so at times I feel like a pro at this and at other times, feel like a complete failure because I haven’t figured out the magic trick for getting them to behave by the standard that I set for how they should go off to school. I look back on the days with my other children and know I made a lot of mistakes. I know I’ve said some things, or acted in a way that I am not proud of. Onlookers might have seen me having the temper tantrum, not my children (or alongside my children). These moments were there to teach me, to help me awaken. I can only grow from my mistakes, not dwell in them. I spent many hours of my life mourning (and probably throwing a parenting tantrum) over the loss of the many movies that I had created. The truth is, I rarely, if ever, asked input from any of the actors in my movies. I just expected that they would follow the script as I had created and planned. My emotions always arose at their lack of ‘willingness’ to cooperate. My ego was strong and it didn’t like when someone didn’t play along.

As I reflect on that day, the truth is that Matthew is also creating a movie in his head of how his life will be. I know now that my role in real life (not my dreams or movies) is about supporting him and his needs and about sitting back and listening more than talking. I need to be his biggest supporter and fan and rarely, if ever, his director. To fully understand this, I often think back to my childhood. How often did I like when someone told me what to do without listening at all to my needs? The answer is and always was a resounding ‘NEVER.’ So being conscious means asking myself, do I want to continue this parenting cycle or do I want to break it here and develop a relationship that’s based on mutual respect and understanding? If I want to break the cycle then I have to let go of my ego and my movie, and be the parent that he needs me to be.

So after review, maybe that meme needs a little updating. Instead of the parent looking at the child stating ‘You’re making it difficult to be the parent I always dreamed I’d be’ it should be the child looking at the parent stating “Your dreams are making it difficult to see the person I’m destined to become.”

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