Just A Few Thoughts From a Parent Having A Bad Day

Someone told me once that you can have multiple children and no two will ever be the same. Each child requires different things at different times and its not the other siblings job to decide whether or not its fair. They are not the adults. The parent is. You do what you feel is best for that child at that time. That was 20 years ago when I only had 2 children and no real idea of what they really meant. 98% of my marital issues have been disagreements on how to raise children. Sometimes, the universe aligns and we think identically. But, most of the time we fight. I go silent. Stew for a couple days. Threaten divorce. Know I'm right and he's wrong. Then roll over and give up because being a single parent is too much for my brain to comprehend all the while still believing I am absolutely right and he is disgustingly wrong.Back when our kids "quirks" were beginning to develop and show themselves I threw myself into reading and learning all the things. That was roughly 2009. Eli was 6 years old. Zackary 3. I didn't have to read very far to learn that divorce rates for parents with children whom have a diagnoses is significantly higher then those without.It was in 2011 that I started my Psychology degree. My intentions were to help my children and every one else's children. Now, 10 years later, I'm still treading water most days to guide my own young men. Thinking I would have time to help someone else is almost laughable.I never finished my degree. Life happened. Most days I feel like I should be grandfathered in as a therapist because I know a few things. Because I've seen a few things. Solved a few things. Heard speakers dozens of times. Been to retreats. Support groups. Church. Dr.'s. Specialist. Therapy for them. Therapy for me. Court. Emergency management placements. Hospitals. Rehabs. Read the books. Drown myself in all the knowledge. I think that's why I carry so much resentment when my husband doesn't agree with my parenting. He's not done those thing's. How could he possibly know what's best when I've raised these kids? Not because he wasn't interested or a bad man. But because he was busy keeping a roof over our heads and food on the table. He didn't worry about the kids because he knew "I had it". And I didn't worry about the bills because I knew "he had it".Trust me when I say that type of thinking can only last so long. After a while I lost myself and became a very pissed off human. It wasn't until death took my best friend of 25 years, 8 months ago, that I started therapy myself. Loosing her was my breaking point. She was the only person I had to bounce my thoughts off of without judgment. If I felt like I was about to loose sight of reality I went to her. If I was about to hang my kids up by their toes, I went to her. If I needed adult conversation, I went to her. She was my person. Since her death, I have had to learn to make Danny my person. It's not been easy because for so many years I tried very hard to not need anyone for anything. Our kids are older since I began this blog space for myself all those years ago. Now 22, 17, 15, 11 and 6. And another sweet baby boy has came into our lives. A grandson whom is now 3. I imagined years ago when we reached this point in our lives that things would be better. I had this false sense that when the kids were older they would no longer need me. That I was such a badass perfect parent they would reach 18 and fly the coop perfectly and never look back. I failed miserably on so many levels. Because of our "arrangement" all these years........if they fail to fly the coop correctly I feel the only one to blame is me. I was responsible for raising the kids while he handled the rest. Their success or failure is a direct reflection of the foundation I was supposed to build for them.Just a few thoughts from a parent having a bad day.