Co-Parenting Matters This Week: Happy Parents…Happy Kids!

“…I accept full responsibility for my life and my choices — I sing no victim songs.

I willfully participate in the world using my voice to empower myself and others.”

Okay, if ever there was a credo to live by, Yvonne Bynoe’s is it.  The above is an excerpt from Yvonne’s credo, the guiding principle for her life and for the lives that she helps other women realize for themselves.

Yvonne, an author and a mom, founded Sophisticated Woman and Mama to “to assist Gen-X working mothers who want to end their work/life struggle. Instead of trying to balance their various roles I encourage them to first define their beliefs and values. This step helps working women to make decisions that are aligned with their individual versions of professional and family success. My philosophy is that women who continue to develop themselves bring more clarity to their roles as mothers, partners and professionals.”

We are so excited to have Yvonne join us on the Sunday, February 14th* “Co-Parenting Matters” show, “Happy Parents, Happy Kids.” On the show, we’ll talk about the importance of all co-parents healing and empowering themselves in the wake of a break up, and in particular, Yvonne will discuss her mission to“revolutionize motherhood” so that all women have “the courage to create a life and a motherhood experience that they passionately love.”

As always, “Co-Parenting Matters” airs 9:30 – 11 PM EST on BlogTalk Radio.

On the show, we’ll announce the winners of a special offer that Yvonne is making available to CoParenting101.org and WeParent.com readers!  One winner from each site will win a COMPLIMENTARY Working Moms Startup Coaching Session with Yvonne. The session will include:

• The “Where Are You” Questions
  - a meaningful inquiry into your life and aspirations.
• A thirty-minute laser coaching discussion

In your session with Yvonne, you can:

• Chart a course to accomplishing a specific goal
• Design the framework for your ideal life – maximizing the things that bring you joy and fulfillment and reducing the draining “shoulds.”
• Create strategies to overcome limiting beliefs.

Yvonne will help you see what’s possible – and laser in on the best course of action for you based on your interests, values and intentions. Yvonne says, “Working Moms Startup sessions could result in a new decision for your life, inspire a make-over, generate a new business idea, or expose your inner critic…stay open to the possibilities.”

If you are ready to create your ideal life, or know a mother who is, don’t miss this valuable opportunity!  Here’s how to enter  in 2 easy steps:

(1) Email us at info AT weparent DOT com nominating yourself or another working mom for the complimentary start up session, then LEAVE A COMMENT HERE telling us you’ve submitted the nomination. Explain why you (she) should win the session, and how it can make a difference in your (her) life.

Then…

(2) Send a short email to Yvonne AT Sophisticatedwomanandmama DOT com containing the same info as in (1).

(3) Yvonne will choose one winner from each site.

(4) Winners will be announced during “Happy Parents, Happy Kids.”

Enter today and get one step closer to a happier you…which means, a happier kid!

*“Co-Parenting Matters” will take a brief break from the airwaves on Super Bowl Sunday February 7th…for the obvious reasons.

MamaSpeak: Guess Who’s Not Coming to Dinner

I love spending time with family. Holidays, reunions, weddings, and even deaths, have their way of bringing us together. And, like most families, we have a love/hate relationship where we love each other harder than we fight, fight for one another more than against each other, and yearn to be together when we’re apart. I just wish all this love didn’t come with such a high price or any feelings of obligation.

Family love has made me sometimes spend money I couldn’t afford to spend, buy gifts I didn’t want to give, and travel to places I didn’t want to go. All because I knew saying, “No,” would require an exhaustive explanation, replete with a list of why I couldn’t do it, only to be met with a rebuttal of why I should. A simple, “I can’t afford it,” would never suffice. So I’ve never offered. But, this year it’s a must.

I’m making a lot of changes in my life. As an empty-nester who put herself on the backburner to raise her children, I’m learning to be single. And, alas, I’m back in the city where I’ve always wanted to return. My relocation caused a temporary financial setback from which I’m still recovering, but making the sacrifices necessary to accept a job that pays 200% more than the highest bidder in my previous city made perfect sense to me. As an added bonus, I get to live in a place that I love. But to those who can’t relate to living life on one’s own terms, it is illogical. They say that surely, I must be chasing a man. And that’s okay, because on November 26, 2009, I will be a Thanksgiving orphan—no explanation needed.

Although money is an issue, I know that it is not the only issue. If it were, I wouldn’t keep having flashbacks to places of unfinished business: a father who wasn’t—and isn’t—around, a mother—MY mother—picking up her infant daughter from her mother-in-law and asking about a child of the same age lying on the same couch (It was later learned that it was my father’s child with another woman.), and an aunt’s voice yelling at me after my mother was admitted into the hospital for the last time, saying that the reason my brother was so angry is because my mother always criticized my father. I still find it peculiar that, out of seven children, he’s the only one with whom she had those private moments of criticism.

My tone may sound angry, but I’m not. In an ongoing effort to take back my power and reclaim my purpose, I must learn to function from a place of love and not duty. In order to be emotionally whole, I must process the pain and move on. An honest conversation would be nice, but since my mother isn’t here to defend herself, I’m not even interested. On top of that, I’m tired of folks trying to rewrite history with lies, even with the things I witnessed firsthand.

Unfortunately, my kids are having similar experiences. They made tremendous sacrifices to spend Thanksgiving with their dad’s family last year, and he didn’t show up. He simply said that he had other plans. The children were very upset, but I didn’t comment either way, because it’s important that I allow them to own their feelings. He and his brother called a couple weeks ago and said they’d like for them to come again this year. They all declined, opting to enjoy the holiday together with their friends. In a perfect world, they would be excited about spending time with their family. But in that same world, my ex’s family wouldn’t make spending time with them feel like such an obligation.

MamaSpeak: 10 Lessons I’ve Learned about Co-Parenting

Sometimes, it’s valuable and enlightening to take stock of where we’ve been, how far we’ve come and what we’ve learned along the way.  I did a little stock taking recently and thought I’d share these lessons I’ve learned along this co-parenting journey.  I look forward to hearing yours.

10 Lessons I’ve Learned about Co-Parenting

• Being right doesn’t always equal winning. Sometimes our co-parenting relationship is better served by just listening and hearing my son’s father’s perspective and keeping my opinion to myself. There are times when each of us just needs to be heard.

• Saying, “I’m sorry,” doesn’t hurt as much as I thought it would. Acknowledging my mistakes sometimes goes a long way, because it gives both of us permission to be human every once in a while and it has allowed us both to let our defenses down a little.

• I don’t know everything. Once I finally started listening to my son’s father like what he said might actually matter, I found out that he has a little insight into this parenting thing.

• There is more than one way to do just about everything. And, it’s almost guaranteed that he’ll choose any way but the one I suggest. But, letting go of “my way or no way” leaves a lot more opportunities for it to just get done.

• Sharing information makes life easier for everyone. Making sure that our son’s teachers, piano instructor and soccer coach have both of our email addresses and phone numbers allows us to share responsibility in managing our son’s schedule. Then, all the work doesn’t fall solely on me.

• There’s usually a win-WIN-win solution, if we just look for it. Focusing on the solution and not just the problem is sometimes all that it takes. Of course, that usually requires being patient enough and listening intently enough to understand everyone’s concerns then putting our child at the center. It takes practice, but it’s possible.

• There is power in having even the appearance of a united front. Whether it’s disciplining our child or advocating for him at school, when we stand together (even if we’re faking it in that moment), we stand stronger and provide a more solid support for our son.

• Flexibility is a virtue. Pretty much nothing in life goes exactly according to plan. Parenting and co-parenting are no exceptions. Being flexible within boundaries makes for smoother sailing, and it can score you some credit for when you need the favor returned.

• My power lies in my ability to choose how I will respond. I may not be able to control what my son’s father will do, but I can control how I respond. When I’m running my life instead of the drama running it, I am happier, more peaceful and a much better parent.

• It’s all a work in progress. Even when it feels like nothing will ever change, there is always possibility. Building a strong co-parenting relationship is a process. I now look for progress, not perfection.

What lessons have you learned?

MamaSpeak: Etiquette Tips for Our Sons

I recently moved to Washington, D.C, and one of the nice things about being here is that I can listen to Steve Harvey in the morning. Steve is a funny guy. But along with his comedic flair comes a softer, gentler side that’s passionate about teaching young men to act like men and helping women make a love connection.

Last week Steve’s show sent 29-year-old “Lirpanla” on a date with 27-year-old “SELDOM1.” After the date they came back on the show to tell how it went. And you could tell by their tone that it didn’t go well.

Lirpanla called SELDOM1 immature and childish because he opened her car door and made her scoot over, so he could get in. And, then he didn’t walk on the side of the sidewalk closest to the street when they were walking to the restaurant. SELDOM1 called Lirpanla high-maintenance because he had never heard of a man walking around to get into a car after letting the woman in, nor did he know that a man should walk on the sidewalk closest to the street as the first line of defense, if anything happens to the woman.

At that point I did have some compassion for the man, and especially after I read an article in Sports Illustrated about Miami Hurricane’s coach, Randy Shannon, talking about taking etiquette classes at 17 to learn how to open a door for someone. I guess I just thought it was innate. Maybe that explains why I have friends who have never had a man open their car door. It could also explain why my children’s friends would come into my house, and my son would have to tell them to take their hats off They don’t know, because they’ve never been taught. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve dined in restaurants and seen teens wearing caps and hats, and the adults they’re with say not a word.

Some men consider opening doors and pulling out chairs outmoded. And some feminists find it offensive. But, chivalry is not dead. As a true Renaissance woman who knows what makes me a strong black woman, there are some things that will never go out of style, nor are they signs of weakness for me or my male companion:

• When going down stairs or an escalator, the man goes first. In case the lady trips, he can catch her.  When going up stairs or an escalator, the man follows for the same reason.
• When entering and exiting an elevator, the man holds the door open and lets the woman enter or exit first.
• When entering a building, the man opens the door for the woman so that she may enter first. (Except when entering the house. A man enters the house before his wife and kids.)
• When exiting a building, the man goes to the same side of the woman that the door hinge is on, reaches around her, pushes open the door and holds it while she exits.
• For revolving doors, let the lady enters first.  Gently get the door moving; step into the next “stall”, and continue pushing, so she doesn’t need to.
• When walking down the street, the man should be between the lady and the traffic.
• Always open a car door for a woman. After you open the door, walk around and get in. Don’t ask her to scoot over.
• Go to the door to get your date. Never sit in the car and honk your horn.  After a date, a man walks a lady to her door.
• If a woman drives to a man’s place, the man walks her to her car when she is ready to go, opens the door, and helps her get in.
• A man respects a woman’s boundaries. “No” means “no,” even if he thinks it’s probably “yes.”
• A man never calls a woman out of her name.
• A man never…E-V-E-R hits a woman.
• A man never tries to buy love, because he’ll never finish paying for it.
• A man ALWAYS pays for the first date.
• A man helps a lady with her suitcase.
• A man remove his hat upon entering a restaurant.
• A man pulls out the lady’s chair, and helps her get seated before he sits down.
• When the lady needs to go to the restroom, the man stands up and pulls out her chair.  When the lady returns from the restroom, the man stands up and pulls out her chair.

Mamas, we might not be able to teach our sons everything about becoming a man, but we can certainly join Steve in teaching them how to treat women.

WeParent Family, what do you think we should be teaching our sons?

Battling Over Bitty Briefs…Ah, Co-Parenting

I remember the bad old days of kid-exchanges in friendly locations like the Waffle House parking lot. We’d start off with cordial greetings, but before long, we’d find our way into the downward spiraling discussion of what clothes I had packed. I often felt attacked, because what I had packed either didn’t meet his metro-Dad standards, or I’d forgotten some important item…like drawers.

The feelings I experienced in these situations were no different than the feelings I was having about the entire relationship. I felt like I was carrying more of the responsibility for caring for our child materially than I should have to. I felt unappreciated given that I was the one providing the clothes, caring for our child most of the time and then being expected to remember every little thing. I felt burdened by his apparent dependence on me. I felt pissed, because I rarely got all the gear back. And, I felt powerless to make him do anything differently including stopping by WalMart to buy a $10 shorts set or pack of socks. So, yes, we would argue about bitty briefs right there in the Waffle House parking lot.

Despite hating this frustrating and petty drama, still, for a long time, I would continue to pack the clothes and then complain about it to him and anyone else who would listen. And, subversively, I admit, I would purposely neglect to pack the tighty whities– which inevitably would lead to the very Waffle House incidents I claimed I wanted to avoid.

Then, after a good bit of self-reflection, I realized something mind-shattering and central to the changes I started to make in my response to this problem: My son’s father absolutely loooooves our son, and he will not allow our child to go hungry, naked or homeless. Somehow, he will make a way.

And, with that, I began the process of firing myself his self-appointed manager and started creating some boundaries around what I would be responsible for and what I wouldn’t.

Over time, I stopped sending clothes. When he would argue, I would calmly explain (while focusing on keeping my smile genuine and not taunting): “I can’t run my household smoothly without clothes. So, to make sure that I’m able to take good care of our child while he’s with me, I’m going to need to keep the clothing I’ve purchased here. And, I know you’re a great father and that you’ll make sure he’s taken care of at your house, too. It will make it easier for him knowing that he has the clothes he needs and likes at both places, and neither of us will have to worry about where things are.”

That was it.

At first he was pissed. I imagine it seemed that I was making some sort of power play. But, I remained consistent and soon after, our son had a brand new wardrobe courtesy of Daddy. Every once in a while, he would still ask me to send something over, and I did. It wasn’t always smooth, mostly because I would accuse him of holding a soccer uniform hostage only to find out that it was actually still in my hamper…but I’ll let him write that post.

Eventually, after some practicing, we’ve come to a point where the only clothes either of us sends to the other’s house are the ones on our child’s back. We have agreed upon a budget for this Fall/Winter clothing and plan to make that trip together taking great care to send an equal number of little boy briefs to each home. I can only imagine how our son suffered in those Waffle House parking lots (He now prefers to eat at IHOP) and what a difference our willingness to fight for a win-win-win solution has made in his life. It has certainly improved mine.

I want to tell you that there’s no guarantee that your child’s parent will grow into the parenting partner you want if you just focus on what you can do and make peace with what and whom you can’t control . But, I also want to tell you that it is so possible. I have experienced it in my own life, and I have witnessed transformation in relationships significantly more shattered than my own.

For me, the key was getting myself out of feeling victimized and stepping into my power where I could make choices and establish boundaries that left me standing without tearing down my son’s father. In that place, I find peace, even when we have conflict. That peace allows me to be a better partner, which invites him to do the same. And, most of the time, he accepts.

On the WeParent Bookshelf: Becoming the Mom I Wish I’d Had

Becoming the Mom I Wish I’d Had:  How to Heal Yourself and Your Family through HEART-based Parenting by Venus Taylor is a must read if you’re a parent interested in raising healthy, whole, resilient, self-aware children.  A family and relationship coach and founder of the Family Healing Institute, Venus walks us through simple but powerful steps and strategies for using our own experiences as children to guide us toward becoming the best parents we can be.  By sharing painful examples from her troubled relationship with her own mother, Venus shows us that healing is not only possible; it is critical to breaking cycles in our families.

The book is broken down into two sections.  The first, “Looking Back”, guides us through our own childhoods.  Again using her own story for illumination, the author gently encourages us to explore some of our happiest and most painful memories from childhood.  She then helps us uncover parenting wisdom and compassion for our children from those experiences.  By challenging us to view the world through the eyes of the children we once were, she offers a new way of thinking more empathetically about the needs of our own children.

In part two, “Looking Forward,” we are empowered with a set of principles and a toolkit for what Taylor calls HEART-based Parenting.  She offers this approach as a way to develop a stronger, loving and mutually respectful relationship with our children and as an alternative to what she refers to as POWER-based parenting.

Becoming the Mom I Wish I’d Had really is a wonderful guide for any mother who is ready to heal emotional wounds from her own childhood.  But, even more, it is a powerful resource for any parent seeking new strategies and tools for parenting their children more consciously.

The book is available at www.healmyfamily.com.

Being Right or Having Peace

It’s been eighteen years since I sent fear packing and conjured up the courage to walk away from a marriage that had me mentally exhausted and emotionally depleted. It was a huge leap of faith. I had four children in tow. The youngest was six-months and the oldest hadn’t started school. I had just been furloughed from my job, and I was three-months pregnant. But, even though my circumstances looked bleak, my future looked brighter than what I was leaving behind.

When I told my husband about my plans to move, he protested and told me I wasn’t taking his kids anywhere. He knew how strongly I felt about raising our children in a two-parent home, where the mother and the father were married to each other, so he constantly reminded me that whoever left would be the one who broke the pact. I didn’t want to let my kids down, because I was raised by a single mom, and so was he. But at the same time, I could no longer stay at the expense of my sanity. We were living a lie, and I was tired of the façade. What good was it for us to keep up the image of happiness when the disdain we felt for each was about to make one or both of us go postal?

After he told me I wasn’t taking his kids with me, I called his bluff. I knew he had no intentions of keeping the kids, so I reiterated that I was moving – not the kids. I told him when I was moving out and where I was moving to. And over the course of the next few weeks I went about the business of buying things for my apartment. Thank God I did because three days before I was scheduled to move, he came home and announced that he was moving that night. Not only did he move out, but he took everything but the kids: the furniture, the TVs, and the car. When I asked if he was taking the kids, he said he only had a one-bedroom and didn’t have room for them.

So, why did he need the kids’ beds if he didn’t have room for the kids? The only answer he gave me was that he knew somebody who needed them.

I was disgusted, but not surprised. I called my cousin and told him what was going on, and he told me that he had a sofa and loveseat for sale. Perfect! I needed to buy them. He also agreed to move me, so that was another thing I didn’t have to worry about. Plus, my mother had a bed in storage that she let me have, and I went to a furniture store the following day and financed new canopy beds for my daughters. Life was looking up.

It took a few months for me to get on my feet, but I eventually got my bearings. Bureaucratic rules held up my unemployment check for two months, and my husband was determined not to help out. My mother sent money when she could. And I’m forever grateful for friends who comforted me when my son was born stillborn, gave me food when I couldn’t afford to buy any, babysat for free after I went back to work, and gave me a ride to work until I bought a car.

As time went on, my husband did ask me what I planned to tell the children about our breakup. To be honest, I really hadn’t given it much thought. I’m sure what he really wanted to know was if I planned to make myself a victim and sing them a somebody-done-me-wrong song. But, what would I get out of that? I was so happy to be living in peace, that I had no desire to prove who was right or wrong in the marriage. And as far as I was concerned, we were equally at fault for not being able to make it work.

As a self-proclaimed daddy’s girl, I wanted my kids to spend time with him and develop a strong father/child connection, even if I felt like he was a pitiful husband. I didn’t want to sway their opinion, like my mother didn’t sway mine. My dad never provided emotional or financial support for us, and I still have an exaggerated perception of him. I know he was no daddy of the year, but my mother never said a negative thing about him. She was phenomenal. She stayed when she could have left, bridled her tongue when I’m sure she wanted to burst, and allowed me to form my own opinion about the man I call Daddy.

And I did the same for my kids. 

Allowing Room for Change

One major growth theme for me in my co-parenting relationship this past year was:  Allow room for the change you seek.  Now, the change I’m referring to is all about the change I’m seeking in the man who parents this child with me.  Typically, you’ll find me pondering self-growth and ways that my co-parenting and parenting experiences support it.  But, like most other unmarried but human mothers, I often fall into the spirit of wanting to do a little behavioral nip-tuck on a Baby Daddy now and again.

And, when that spirit hits me, I have a tendency to do one of two things.  The first is to pseudo-humbly deliver unsolicited self-help advice that I have collected from the tomes of New Age and self-help texts I’ve consumed.  The second is to skip the self-help part and to just start telling him how to do whatever it is the right way…Step. By.  Step.  OK. I get that that could be pretty annoying.  But, in my defense, the fact is that in the past he’s demonstrated some pretty clear patterns that I’m still attached to.  For example, in the olden days, many times his plans would change on a day he was supposed to have our child, and they would change at the last minute leaving me to rearrange my schedule to accommodate whatever “important” affair had suddenly come up.  It’s a simple thing, a rescheduling exercise, except for the frequency and complete lack of consideration for my own “important” affairs.  I would find myself feeling so many different ways every single time it happened.

There was the guilt from thinking that my feelings about the lack of consideration somehow meant that I didn’t want to take care of my child.  Well, frankly, there were times when I didn’t want to. At the time, I was the sole financial provider for our son and he spent most of his time with me.  Sometimes I needed a break, but the guilt was intense, nonetheless.

Then there was the anger resulting in blame, bad mouthing and not a few arguments.  But, ultimately, the worst feeling of all was helplessness; my sense of having to just accept the situation, having the value of my time and energy determined by him and not knowing whether or not I could depend on the schedule we’d set .  I hated it…feeling helpless over something so simple.  But, the emotions that a “not going to be able to…” call aroused in me were intense.

So, flash forward a couple of years, and we are on a set schedule, our time split almost evenly.  And, he is holding up his end reliably.  But, then…the call.  “…blah…blah…blah…something important…blah…blah…blah…need to reschedule.”  And, that’s all she wrote…anger, guilt, and helplessness; it all came back with the same intensity.  And, I told him about himself, what was wrong with his parenting, what was wrong with his partnering…

But, this time, he didn’t fight back.  Instead, he acknowledged my feelings then said, “I am not that man from five years ago…not even from last year.  I know I still have things to work on, but I have grown and I have changed and I have demonstrated that to you.  I need you to acknowledge it and to deal with me based upon who I am showing you I am today.”

And, I stopped fighting.  He was right.  I had determined the “truth” about him years ago—unreliable, undependable, inconsiderate, selfish.  Frankly, I guess I also had developed at least one truth about myself, as well, “I am the better parent, because I sacrifice myself for my child.”  It made dealing with his whim much easier; it allowed me to manage my own expectations and to address my feelings of guilt for wanting a Mommy respite once in a while.  They were truths that served me when I knew no other way to cope.  And, that’s fine.  But, I had neglected to leave room for growth, for the possibility that a twenty-six-year-old (his age when our son was born) could mature, could become a better father and a better parenting partner or that I might have more power than I was willing to assert.  My emotional blinders left no room for any new truths or refinement of the old ones.

But, when I finally took them off, I saw that he was right.  He damn sure wasn’t perfect, but he also wasn’t the same.  Things had actually changed a bit in the past year.  And, on several of the dimensions that mattered to me, by my standards, he was better.  The “not going to be able to…” call of today was in actuality very different from those of yore.  It was true that the tone these days was more apologetic and less presumptuous.  Perhaps it was safe to let him out of the box in which he’d been held hostage; maybe confining him to that little space wasn’t really serving me as much as I had believed.  He was different.

And, I was different. Somehow, somewhere, I had found my own power and released those feelings of helplessness.  And with his words, I recognized that some sort of co-parenting conflict post-traumatic disorder drove my response.  I remembered that I really did have choices that I had been exercising over the past year.  Sometimes my response was, “Not a problem.”  But, on other days it was more like, “Hmmmm.  That’s a tricky situation you’re in.  I already have plans…would change them if I could…What are you going to do?”  And, then, I would go paint my nails and luxuriate in the tub…guiltlessly.

So, for you…What “truths” are holding you or your child’s other parent hostage?  What change are you ready to make room for?

Check Out “Drama Misty”

Don’t miss Drama Misty, the latest blog post from WeParent Connect member, Sara Shay Sullivan in which she poetically ponders the wonders of parenting a thirteen-year-old on the front side of womanhood.   Check out this excerpt:

Today Drama Misty decided for the third time in as many months that she’s, “never going to tell me anything again.” And after checking with Merriam-Webster for the definition of “never”, which for the record is synonymous with “tomorrow” in thirteen-speak, I realized we were headed to Act II, Scene 1 of the lifetime dramedy that is her life.  

Read the rest on WeParent Connect…

Who Are You Being Called to Become?

I remember the day I found out I was pregnant.  Oh!  The drama!  As I lay there bawling on my cousin’s Vegas bathroom floor, I felt like the world as I knew it had just ended.  My personal Armageddon.

Quickly though, after I recovered from the shock, I realized that this “tragedy” was, in fact, a miracle, a gift, a moment beckoning me to rise to a higher level.  This was a call for me to step into a role I hadn’t bothered to imagine yet, to become a person I hadn’t met yet, and to find within me a well of strength, faith, compassion and commitment I didn’t know existed in this body I wear.

Fast forward a few years, and, once again…drama.  My relationship with my son’s father ended, and any dream I’d had of the three of us doing the Cosby thing was shattered.  Fortunately, our drama was mild compared to many of the stories I hear.  But, we created drama nonetheless.  I acknowledge my unique contributions.  I played the blame game, the I’m-the better-parent game, the how-can-you-treat-me-this-way-game.  But, eventually, just like the Day of the Two Dip Sticks, I had to stop.  Press pause on the woe-is-me victim script I was reading to myself, look for the miracle, the gift in all of this and recognize that the beckoning was once again upon me.

See, I believe that these experiences we call “struggle” or “challenge” or “drama” are moments calling us to connect with the best in ourselves.  Our parenting partnerships or lack thereof are no exception.  We all have our stories when it comes to our challenges with “the other parent”.  That’s real.  Sometimes they mistreat us, take us for granted, shortchange us.  True.  But, we can’t change them.  That’s real, too. 

What we can do is trust that somewhere in the drama there is a voice asking us to claim these challenges as tools to transform ourselves or just to discover what is best in us.

These days, my son’s father and I still have bouts of our special brand of drama.  They are typically brief and even laughable sometimes—a five-minute dispute over who really has the soccer uniform or whether I told him the teacher conference was at 4 or 4:30.   But even then, every once in a while, when I want to poke him in the eye just for emphasis…I stop.  I imagine him one-eyed, and then I hear that voice hollering at me, “Who is this moment calling you to become?”  I answer…and his sight is spared.

I’m curious.  Do the challenges you experience in your parenting relationships ever lift you up instead of bring you down?  Who do you think you are being called to become?

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