GROWING UP IS HARD ENOUGH

As I sit and think about my childhood, it occurs to me that I had a charmed life.  Loving parents, private schools, family vacations, piano lessons… yadda, yadda, yadda.  My parents separated (they never got around to getting divorced) when I was around five.  This was an event that literally could have ripped my full-of-giggles, trusting, forever-skipping, pigtails-swinging, precocious, itty-bitty, Afro-Latino girl self to shreds… but it didn’t.  I managed to keep moving without a blip or a hitch or even a hiccough.  I have to thank my parents for this.  They collectively mobilized their get-the-hell-out-before-I-grow-to-hate-you selves and made a conscious effort to parent in a way that their decision to change the course of their lives did not cause a blip, hitch or hiccough in my life… and it didn’t.  My parents loved me enough to put my need to have space and time to wrap my child’s mind around their adult decisions ahead of their own need to get-a-groove-going-as-soon-as-humanly-possible-and-act-a-damn-fool-and-flaunt-it.  Whew!  Thank you mom and dad for showing consideration, and for remembering that the choice to have a full-of-giggles, trusting, forever-skipping, pigtails-swinging, precocious, itty-bitty, Afro-Latino girl was yours.

Of course, I eventually adjusted to my life with a single mother who was often tired, overworked, underpaid and oddly, always dancing (as she tried to balance my needs and her checking account... which was not so oddly, often quite unbalanced).  My mama had a will of steel, took no shortcuts, had dinner on the table, washed clothes by hand (and walls on Saturdays), checked homework, picked me up from piano, violin and ice-skating lessons all while making me think that she had latent psychic abilities, because she ALWAYS knew when Hayden put a note in my book bag… before I got home from school.  I was never made to spend time with her “friend”.  There were no happy-couple canoodles or I-gotta-claim-what-I’ve-recently-found-and-show-the-world-that-I’m-secure-in-it displays at violin recitals, graduations or ice-skating competitions, without my permission (which I gave some of the time).  I found out much later, when my mom thought I could understand it that she did this to keep the messaging to me consistent.  She knew that she and my dad had never divorced and she didn’t want me to stop believing in the institution of marriage, so she neither glorified infidelity nor celebrated cohabitation, for that would have inspired thoughts that marriage was a fleeting thing that did not warrant being taken seriously.  My mom, in her infinite wisdom allowed me to go at my own pace and didn’t rush my adjustment.  Thanks again mom for not crushing my belief system or confusing me with mixed messages!     

My dad visited our home every other day, ate dinner with us regularly and still took me to piano, violin and ice-skating lessons.  He was the one who walked me through the ins and outs of American politics (Gerald Ford actually cried when he wasn’t elected in 1976), took me to see the Yankees, introduced me to the finer points of the rope-a-dope, and reminded me daily that I was a princess and should be treated as such.  Everything was not ideal though.  My dad eventually had a live-in girlfriend, who said unkind things to me when my dad wasn’t in earshot and who vaguely resembled a hammerhead shark, and who I mistakenly referred to as “the barracuda” (but never in mixed company because after all, I was a princess and princesses just didn’t say things like that).  Daddy was aware that “the barracuda” and I were like oil and water and was considerate enough to never push the issue.  He once told me that as they were planning to spend the remainder of their lives together that left a lot of time for family bonding.  He removed the urgency from the situation and I eventually came around.  She and I never became great friends, as I never forgot the unkindness that she had shown me, but we were friendly and certainly were able to enjoy good times together over the years that their relationship lasted (which were not a lifetime… thank God!).   

Of course, my mom wasn’t psychic, though I still have my suspicions, and my dad never dated an aquatic animal, that I’m aware of, but they both certainly took their commitment to parenting seriously!  In short, my parents were willing to be parents first, before being someone else’s boyfriend or girlfriend.  The key to my happiness was that my parents knew that the less my life changed the more stable I felt and the more confident and secure in my parents’ love I felt.  Security makes the ability to adapt easier and the overall process go more quickly and more smoothly.  Of course, separated and divorced people move on to eventually become someone else’s significant other or spouse and sometimes additional children are added to the mixture, but there is naturally a transition period and everyone doesn’t transition at the same pace or rate and these differences in pace and rate should be acknowledged, accounted for and respected.  

Readers, what’s the rush?  You have a lifetime, no?  Why make your children unnecessarily miserable?  Do you really want to be the topic of conversation at a therapy session twenty years down the line when your son or daughter has a problem overcoming trust issues?  Make a commitment to safeguarding your kids’ psyche.  Thanks for tuning in and have a Way Beyond Z Day!!             

Although there are many trial marriages... there is no such thing as a trial child.  ~Gail Sheehy