- Parke Sterling
On Being a Dad
Parke is a Licensed Professional Counselor based in Richmond, Virginia. He runs Therapy for Men RVA, a small private practice of male therapists working with men dealing with anxiety, stress, pressure, and feeling stuck. The practice offers walk-and-talk therapy along the James River and virtual sessions throughout Virginia. Learn more at www.therapyformenrva.com.
Dude Breathe: One idea. A few minutes to read. Once a week.
I recently had one of those parenting moments where I really regretted how I was showing up for my kids. I’m good for one of those every couple weeks or so. Sometimes less, sometimes more.
It’s never anything egregious, and I suspect (or hope) these moments impact me more than my kids.
And they usually send me back to a list of reminders I’ve accumulated over the years about the kind of dad I’m trying to be.
These are targets. I never get all of them right, and I’ve broken every single one of them. But having this list helps me at least remember what I’m aiming for.
My goal is just to be consistent enough with most of them that my kids will still want to talk to me and hang out with me when I’m 80.
Here they are.
- Love Them With a No Matter Whatness.
One time in my twenties before I had kids, I overheard a conversation between two women. One was telling the other about the recent passing of her father.
I heard her say, “He was the only person in my life who loved me just for breathing.”
I remember thinking in that moment, that guy had done it. If his daughter felt that way about him, he’d been a success as a parent.
And I remember thinking that’s exactly what I’m going to try to be as a dad.
I want to love my kids just for breathing. Or at least for them to feel that way.
Not because of what they accomplish, how successful they become, whether they get into the “right” college or land the “right” job, or anything else that ultimately doesn’t matter.
Just for being exactly who they are.
- My Kids Are Not Clay. Stop Trying to Mold Them.
I must remember that my kids aren’t here to satisfy my expectations for them.
My job isn’t to shape them into whoever I want them to be, but to encourage their autonomy and help them pursue what’s important to them.
I try to remember I’m merely a guide, not a dictator, and definitely not a sculptor.
- Stop Doing Too Much for Them.
In our effort to protect them, we often do way too much for our kids.
I remember when I was young, playing middle school baseball, we had to wear ties for away games. My dad would tie mine around his own neck and then slip it over my head, usually because we were in a rush to get out the door.
One morning, I got frustrated with him because he hadn’t tied my tie yet. He paused, looked me in the eyes, and said, “I’ve done too much for you.”
He realized in that moment that I’d come to expect him to do it for me. And if he kept doing it, I’d never learn how to do it myself.
And quite honestly, I still struggle with tying ties. Fortunately, it’s no longer a skill I’m particularly interested in developing.
It’s hard to watch your kids struggle and flail around a bit, especially when we know we could make things easier for them. But when they struggle, they figure things out and come out on the other side with a sense of self-efficacy and confidence.
- Stop Being the Police.
This one’s especially hard for me. Control just feels so comfortable.
But it conflicts with one of my higher values. I want my kids to be able to relax around me. I want them to trust me.
So I have to choose. Am I going to be a controlling asshole, or am I going to get better at picking my spots?
I’m not talking about being permissive. I’m talking about not constantly badgering them about screens, sweets, or whatever else my brain falsely tells me is an emergency in that moment.
Sometimes I have to remind myself, “You’re off duty. That’s not your job.”
What if I limited some of the rules? They already have so many. What if my response became more often, “You decide”?
Learning to let go of control has been my greatest parenting lesson. I’m probably still in elementary school with it. And as my kids get older, I’m forced to get better and better at it if I want them to still like me.
- Don’t Negotiate with Terrorists.
This one was a lot more helpful when my kids were younger, but I think it still applies as they get older.
The basic idea is don’t cave if you have a good reason. Don’t alter your decisions because you fear their reactions.
You and your wife are the leaders of this pack. Be curious, ask open-ended questions, factor in their opinions, and try to understand where they’re coming from.
And still be willing to make a decision they don’t like for a values-aligned reason.
Don’t be bullied.
- Stop Trying to Solve Everything and Just Listen.
Here’s a great one I heard.
When they’re in a hole of despair, instead of trying to pull them out, jump in the hole with them.
Be curious and truly listen. Help them see that you understand where they’re coming from.
Instead of trying to talk them out of their irrational fear, worry, concern, or regret, just be there with them for a bit.
Then, when they’re in a more balanced place, you can talk through the logic of what they’re worried about.
They’ll be more receptive to you if you showed that you “sought first to understand.”
- Don’t Build the Bullshit Habit of Holding Back.
Especially with your son.
Don’t teach them that certain topics are off-limits or that there are things you just don’t talk about.
They’ll grow up carrying that habit into their relationships. And then they’ll end up talking to people like me in their 50s about how to communicate with their spouse.
Don’t build the habit of holding back. Talk about real things.
- Remain Calm.
My freaking out is not going to help the situation. And I’m certain it’s not how I want them to remember me.
No matter what I’m presented with, my goal is to respond with calmness and clarity until reasoning and rationality can come back online for both of us.
Easier said than done, but still a worthwhile target.
- Relax. You’re Probably Going to Screw Your Kids Up.
The bad news is you’ll probably screw your kids up in some way. The good news is that’s normal. As the saying goes, it’s impossible to get out of childhood unscathed.
Tell me a little about your childhood, what your home life was like, how your parents interacted, and I can probably predict a few tendencies you’re carrying into adulthood. A lot of my own shit makes sense when I look back now.
The best we can do is try not to pass down our own specific neurotic habits. But rest assured, we’ll probably pass something unhelpful down to them. Some blind spot we are currently unaware of.
And then our kids will spend part of their adulthood working through that and trying not to pass it down to their kids.
It’s just how it works.
- You’re Far Less on the Hook Than You Think You Are.
We give ourselves far too much credit for how our kids turn out, good or bad.
Behavioral geneticist Robert Plomin’s research suggests that genetics plays a much bigger role in who our kids become than most of us realize.
Of course, parenting matters. But largely outside of egregious over-indulgence or over-neglect, we have far less control over who our kids become than we think.
For some parents, that’s a scary thought. We like to believe we’re in control.
But there’s another way to look at it. It can be incredibly freeing.
We can worry a little less about how our kids are going to turn out and maybe just enjoy the show a little more.
- Decide What You Want to Teach Them Above and Beyond.
There’s a lot of things we want our kids to learn.
If I had to pick three for my own kids, I would say kindness, self-acceptance, and self-efficacy.
Pretty much everything else is secondary, in my opinion.
- Make Them the Stars of the Show.
A client told me once, “I just try to make them the stars of the show more often than not.”
He wasn’t talking about neglecting his own needs, but about balancing the self-interest and selfishness we all struggle with at times.
- Step Up for Them in Big Ways and Small.
A lot of times, the things we don’t think are important to our kids end up being extremely important to them. And the inverse is also true.
Stepping up in big ways and small often means doing the hard thing, showing up when I’m tired, or putting aside whatever else I’d rather be doing or whatever feels more important to me in the moment.
- Keep It Light.
Be playful. Laugh. Be silly. Let them remember you this way.
I often think about how the only reason any form of play is still in my life is because of my kids. And sometimes it’s some of the most fun I have.
Kids keep us playful. Otherwise, we can become these stressed, cynical beings walking around, drowning in the seriousness of it all.
- Keep Asking, “Do You Want to Play?”
This question changes over the years as they get older, but the intent behind it remains the same. You’re basically saying, “Hey, you’re important to me. You want to hang out?”
Early on, it’s hide-and-go-seek or kick the can. Then maybe it’s shooting hoops, playing sports, creating a dance, riding bikes, or just going for a walk.
When they get older, maybe it’s going to the movies, going out to dinner, or watching a show you actually both enjoy together.
And it doesn’t have to be anything big.
Jerry Seinfeld once talked about how he doesn’t want just quality time with his kids. He wants the “garbage time.” Watching them read a comic book or eat a bowl of Cheerios late at night. The ordinary, mundane stuff.
I love that.
And maybe as they get older, these moments become fewer and farther between. But don’t let it be because you stopped asking.
- Love Them for Who They Are Right Now.
When I was growing up, my grandmother would say, “What happened to that little man I used to know?”
And I know what she meant. I know what she means now. But it always made me kind of angry.
Our kids are literally different versions of themselves every few years. We can remember those small, sweet versions with fondness, but it’s not fair to them to wish they were still that person.
I had a coworker tell me once, speaking about her 25-year-old son, “Every age has been my favorite age.”
I thought that was so refreshing. My natural instinct is to mourn the past and get caught up in nostalgia, remembering when they were smaller, when they were younger. Conveniently, my brain forgets how hard those years could be.
- Slow Down Enough to Recognize the Finitude of It All.
I once saw a story about a mother whose son had a rare, terminal illness. He was still able to attend school, but they knew he wasn’t going to live very long.
She said that knowing this allowed her to really soak in the little moments.
The story aired after he had passed away. She recalled standing at the bus stop on a Tuesday afternoon, watching him get off the bus. As soon as their eyes met, he started to smile.
She said, “And that was a moment.”
We have opportunities like that all the time. It’s just so damn hard to slow down enough to really appreciate them. We are tired and we are stressed and we gotta get a snack in before practice.
But, one day, real soon, they’re not going to be getting off that bus. One day, we’ll walk past their room and it’ll be dark in there all the time. And one day, we’ll be pleased just to get our obligatory weekly phone call.
We’re all going to miss this someday. I promise you.
- Say Yes While They’re Still Asking.
The other day, I found myself lying on the floor of my son’s room, just talking. At one point he said, “Dad, we should do this once a week.”
I remember thinking, God, any day now he’s not going to have the time of day for me.
But today, he’s still asking. My job is to slow down enough to say Yes.
As it’s been said, love is spelled T-I-M-E. Attention is the most basic form of love.
- Recommit Each Week.
Parenting can feel endless. We can think, “This has gone on forever. When the hell will I get back to doing what I want to do?”
I remember my sister telling me that when she’s tired and rundown at the end of the day, she reminds herself, “One day my kids won’t need me, and I’ll want them to.”
It’s important for me to recommit each week. To remember to keep showing up the way I want to, especially when I’m tired, especially when it’s inconvenient, and especially when I screwed up the day before.
- When You Screw Up, Say You’re Sorry.
And don’t use the word “but” in your apology. It negates the sincerity of the whole thing.
Remember to forgive yourself, move on, and commit to doing better next time.
One Thing to Try
Create your own list of reminders about what’s important to you as a parent.
These are mine, based on my values, my shortcomings, and what’s important to me. They’re not necessarily universally important. Your list might look very different.
If you don’t have one already, come up with one. Look at it regularly, or at least after you screw up.
And then just do the best you can, be easy on yourself and remember to recognize how good of a job you are doing with it all.