It’s morning again.

It snowed last night.  Again.

The temperature will remain below freezing again.

I had a not-so-pleasant set of exchanges with my kids.  Again.

Sometimes I wonder if I was cracked up to be a good parent.  My mom died when I was young (11) and my dad worked and was away so much that I pretty much brought myself up with the help of my older sisters.  I always got along fine with my dad- I loved my dad- but ours was not really the most openly warm relationship.  While that is probably not uncommon I did decide to make it somewhat better and different with my own children.

We have been close most of the time (would they agree I wonder?) but there are a few things I do regret.

I played a lot with my kids but did not spend enough time “down on the floor” and just forgetting about the clock with them.  No rules, no expectations, no strict time limits.  I always seemed to be in a hurry to finish as I look back.  Even today, as they have become teenagers, I do not spend time playing video games with them.  While that may be a good thing given the nature of some of the games (we do try to regulate as much as possible) and the time it takes to play (wasted life time in my view but that is my view and not necessarily theirs) it would still be a chance to just hang.  The teenage version of “floor time.”

I always said that the mark of a close friend is one that you can just hang with even when nothing is being said.  Watching a movie; reading a comic book; checking out a basketball game on TV; just hanging.  I know that it is sometimes dangerous to make your kids your friends but still…

I find that I have so very little patience with my kids.  They fight and I react.  We react (I have to include my wife in this as we are a team) and it is often a knee-jerk reaction.  We impulsively react to their impulsive behavior and the hypocrisy of that just drips off the situation.

Siblings bicker and fight.  I know that; we know that.  But it often gets out of hand and rather than smartly shutting it down we manage to help it build to the bursting point.  Speaking for myself I have to admit here that I am as much to blame as either of them.  And it is of course much more so me who should know better.

Maybe I don’t get enough sleep or maybe I am just stressed out or maybe I just waited too long to have kids and I am simply now just a grumpy old man.  No matter the excuse there is no excuse.  I am supposed to know better; I am supposed to be a good example; I am supposed to be looked up to.  I am supposed to be a good parent.

And, too often, I am not.

And, immediately after not being that good parent, I so much to God wish that I could be.  Maybe if I just don’t give up there is still yet time for me…and for them.

God willing.