Confessions in Childrearing

He's coming around. My oldest, I mean. I can't say I wasn't worried. I've cried many-a-tear over the guy. But things are looking up.

Some mistakes I made:
When he would refuse to take medicine or brush his teeth, I would sit on him, pin his arms with my knees, and do the job as quickly as I could to create as little bruising as possible, inside and out. It sounds awful, I know, but at least he wasn't known as the sickly, toothless kid in Kindergarten.

I didn't let him watch Rugrats when he was little. The saddest part is that it wasn't really my rule to begin with. All of my friends wouldn't let their kids watch the show because of how rude Angelica spoke to everyone. And then there was that pediatrician whose name sounded like a dirty word. I looked up to my friends and never once considered that they might be insane.

I did not make my son take a bath every night before he went to sleep. I think I was too exhausted from brushing his teeth.

I gave the boy 3rd degree burns on both legs once. He pooped in the bathtub, I grabbed him up to rinse him in the sink, and the water was way to hot. The poop ran down the drain, right along with his skin. They didn't call CPS as the emergency room.

After he reached the age of 17, I gave him a Father's Day present for every Father's Day he WASN'T a father. As if I would have known!

I let him jump into a mistake of a marriage. Of course I told him he was too young, but I should have done more. I should have kicked and screamed and yelled and cursed and begged. But I didn't, and he did, and now they aren't.

I've made so many, many, many mistakes in parenting, and still he's growing into a man. A lovable, responsible man who loves life and who makes this world a better place with his presence. If ever I wasn't certain there was a God greater than me who is determined to make the best of our mistakes, I can't deny Him now. Only God could have turned my mistakes into such a blessing. Only God.