Failure and Forgiveness

I’m writing this today because I feel a little bit guilty.

This morning I walked into the kitchen to find my boys Mr. B and Mr. C taking turns pouring out all of the cereal inside the cereal box into three bowls while gleeful splashing much of it on the table and floor in the process.

My wife Sarah, who is eight months pregnant, isn’t sleeping at night anymore. It’s a result of never finding a way to be comfortable, always having to go to the bathroom and the little person inside of her deciding that the nighttime is the best time for tap dancing.

I was getting ready for work and Sarah was resting in bed while the episode with the cereal ensured. Despite the absence of adult supervision, my boys know better than to do this with their breakfast cereal.

My first instinct was a feeling of indignation and disappointment in them. But as I glanced at my phone I saw I had only a few minutes before I had to dash out the door to drive an hour to my office.

I had to quickly make a decision of what to do.

What I decided was to open our goldendoodle Yoshi’s crate and guide him over to the table so that he could vacuum up all the bits of cereal from the floor into his mouth.

Then I asked the boys to dump their bowls to the sink, while giving myself permission to chalk that box of cereal up to a loss.

Then I turned on Wonder Pets on Netflix, kissed my poor wife on the cheek and hustled off to work.

I chose to make some sacrifices.

I sacrificed an expensive box of cereal. I might have been able to spend some time salvaging the cereal that they had poured out into the bowls so that they could eat it later. Instead, I didn’t even check to see if the cereal was salvageable.

I also sacrificed a teachable moment. This could have been a good opportunity to reinforce how important it is not to waste food, especially by fooling around doing things that they already knew that shouldn’t be doing. We’ve taught our boys better than that, after all.

Finally, I sacrificed an engaging activity. I could have seized an opportunity to initiate my boys into an engaging activity before I left for the office. Building with blocks,  putting together a puzzle, or building a fort out of couch cushions; almost any activity would have been preferable over sitting them in front of a TV screen and running out the door.

I don’t like these sacrifices and I wish I never had to make them.

But what I got in return for the sacrifices was something I really needed right then.

I needed to have a moment of positive, non-confrontational interaction with my boys before I left for work.

I needed to make a quick exit without leaving the boys absent an activity of some kind, given Sarah’s current exhausted state.

I needed to feed the dog.

Parents know that choices must be made, battles must be chosen, and timing is everything.

It’s important for me and you to remind ourselves that we can’t always fight the good fight. We can’t always be the hero in our own story, we can’t always live up to the standards we have set for ourselves.

Life gets in the way, and even when it doesn’t we can do a good job of getting in our own way via overscheduling, bad prioritizing, acting without intention, thinking too much and not acting enough, the list goes on.

Today, I’m giving myself permission to recognize that when I don’t live up to my potential as a parent it doesn’t mean that I am a failure as a parent.

It might mean that I have fallen down on the job. But that can be viewed as much as an opportunity to pick myself back up and try again tomorrow as it can be viewed as a failure. It just depends on my perspective and how I choose to view it.

After all, which attitude will most effectively help me to pick myself up and try again tomorrow? An attitude of self-doubt, guilty feelings and beating myself up about it?

Or an attitude of recognizing that I didn’t do my best, forgiving myself and focusing on my next opportunity to be the best Dad I can be?

I hope you will forgive yourself, too, despite how difficult it can be. I hope that reading this gives you permission to do the same for yourself, or for your spouse, or for your parents.

You are a Superb Parent. You love your child with a boundless depth and you show it to them with your engagement, with your perseverance, with your willingness to read blogs like ours so that you can become even more focused, effective and capable.

I hope to interact with you on the topics of failure and forgiveness in the comments below!