Parents just don’t understand…

I used to get along rather well with my parents. Then I became a parent…

That pretty much sums up what happened between myself and the two people that brought me into the world. I became a big critic of them and I actually started to use their parenting as an example of what NOT to do when taking care of your kids. Seriously, how did I live this long?

In November of 2011, I had a small spat with my Dad. He came up to visit to attend my cousin’s second wedding and during that visit, I actually complained that he’s not making enough time for not only me, but for my kids as well. When I was growing up, I was lucky if I saw my grandparents once ever month or so and not spending more time with then was one of my biggest regrets. I only had two grandparents when I saw growing up. My Grandfather on my Dad’s side died four years before my parents even met, and the grandmother on my Mom’s side, who was awesome, died when I was only 5. I miss her the most.

Ethan and Jonathan started pretty much off with the same amount of grandparents as I did: two. Leah’s Dad died very early, when when was eleven. Her mom was in her seventies and didn’t get around much before she passed away just after Ethan was born. So my parents are the only two grandparents that Ethan and Jonathan really have. This was the reason why I stepped up to voice my disappointment. Not spending time with my grandparents was one of my biggest regrets and with Ethan and Jonathan only seeing my parents once or twice a year, if that, made me a little upset as I was witnessing history repeat itself.

Needless to say, my words were not received well. My Dad was a tad upset about it but that was nothing compared to the nuclear meltdown my mother had when he told her about our conversation. She called me up just to freak out at me and try to give me a piece of her mind. Try being the key word cause I just hung up and refused to hear her out. This led to the exchange of some rather hard emails. I’ll be the first to admit that I gave it just as much as I received. Some comments I made were flat out offensive, but given how I was feeling at the time there was no stopping me. I was angry, bitter and in a mood to lash out.

Since that moment in November of 2011, my mother and I have only spoken once since them and that was over the phone in April 2012. My mother had triple by-pass surgery on April 9th last year. I was being pressured by all sides to make a call, but the only reason why I called was to not jinx her surgery. You know if I didn’t call something would have happened and it’s that cliche thing we see on TV all the time. So I did the mature thing and stepped up, wishing her well and good luck with the surgery, etc. I had the kids that weekend so I offered to let Ethan speak to her next. Ethan wanted to sing a song for her, one that he had been singing all the time for weeks. My mother’s response was the refuse and she disconnected. My conversation with her lasted a whole two minutes, and Ethan’s was even shorter. It took every fibre if will power to not call her back and blast her for being so rude to my son who was only trying to do something for her to make her feel better. I had made the attempt to be mature and it was literally tossed back into my face. I was volcanic and I literally punched a hole in a wall. You want to mess with me, that’s fine. I’m a big boy and I can take it but if you mess with my kids… you will feel my fury. It’s that simple.

Since that phone call in April 2012, I have not shared a single word with my mother. Family members have again been calling on me to to step forward and some even think I should apologize to her! I’ve responded to that by telling said person where to go… and it isn’t Kokomo.

First off, I have nothing to apologize for. Should a child really apologize for wanting to spend more time with his parents? Should an adult apologize for asking his parents to spend more time with their grandchildren? I don’t think I should and I won’t. Hell will get a hockey franchise before I apologize for what I did.

That leads me to this weekend: my parents are in town. They arrived on Thursday and are staying until Wednesday of this week. My parents are in town for five days, and I’ve only spent one our with my Dad. That’s it. Mom still isn’t interested in even sharing a minute, and quite frankly I’m okay with that considering how we’re feeling right now. My Dad snuck off when Mom was sleeping in to take me and my brother Chris out for breakfast Friday morning. Dad texted me earlier today asking if we can do breakfast again on Tuesday. I said sure, but that means out of five days… I’ll be lucky if I share two or three hours with a single parent. And people think I should apologize for complaining that I don’t get enough time with my parents?

The good news is today, they’ll be spending the entire day with my kids and their mother. At least the booked an entire day for my boys which is better than nothing I guess. Coincidence that this trip was booked when I didn’t have the kids? I don’t think so either…

If one of my kids accused me of not spending enough time with him, even if it wasn’t true… I would look into it and at least make sure that what he’s saying isn’t true. Like I said at the beginning of the chapter, becoming a parent has made me more critical of how parents have conducted themselves. Unfair? Maybe, but this is the way I feel… and I would never dream of treat either of my kids the way my parents have treated me. Just waiting a week to see them is torture to me, I couldn’t imagine doing it for years.

A lot of decisions I’ve made as a parent have been influenced by how I was raised by my own parents. My Dad did a lot of work at locations far away from home when I was growing up, so it was normal for us not to see him for weeks at a time. So when I was offered a job to work overseas, I turned it down. The thought of doing the same thing to my own kids was unacceptable based on how it made me feel. I’d rather be poor and here for my kids rather than be overseas and missing them everyday and have more money. Just the idea of being far away from them is enough to bring a tear to my eye… I love my boys far too much to ever consider doing that to them.

So this is where I’m at right now where my parents are concerned. If my mother and other family members are waiting for an apology, they’ll be waiting a very, very long time for it. It’s not going to happen. The funny thing about all this is the fact that my mother never tolerated this kind of bitter crap when my grandfather did the same thing. He was a bitter old fart that showed similar behavior that my mother is currently showing. I remember her being firm with him with a my way or the highway kind of attitude. My grandfather would occasionally push his luck but retreat when things got serious. Do you think it’s fair for her to get so upset when I’m merely following her example?

Peter