The Not-So-Golden Child

The idea of parental favoritism is nothing new. We see examples of it in literature throughout the ages. We see examples in scripture. It's a tale as old as time.

I've always found parental favoritism interesting. One or both parents just seem to click with one child, while another child tends to be left to fend for himself. I get it. We all get along with those whose personalities complement our own. We tend to distance ourselves from those whose personalities or character traits clash with ours. It's normal and natural.

Normal and natural among peers. It is not normal or natural in relation to our children.

I don't often open up about my personal wounds. Let me share something with you that I've never openly discussed. I'm risking a lot by bringing this out, because many of those involved in this story could read this post, thereby creating a whirlpool of conflict. However, the facts are the facts, and our reactions to those facts are our choices.

I grew up in Southern California. My dad's family had traveled and sung all over the West Coast for years. They sang in churches each weekend. There was a lot of talent in the group, and they were becoming fairly well-known in the regional southern gospel community. My dad was the second of three sons, all of whom played roles in the family musical group.

My cousins and I appeared, at first, in stair-steps. My brother was the first born, then my cousin a year later, then I came along a year after that. Another cousin was born a few years after I was, then a set of twins. Then my youngest uncle began having daughters. It made for large gatherings and fun times, mostly.

I noticed while growing up, though, that my cousins spent far more time with my grandparents than my brother and I did. It always seemed odd to me that my family lived just twenty minutes away, but saw my grandparents extremely rarely. Each time we did see them, my cousins were there. And...my cousins were always talking about how Grandma and Grandpa had gone with them to some event or how Grandma and Grandpa had bought them some gift or another. Grandma and Grandpa were always having the cousins over to spend the nights or to watch them while their parents went somewhere. My cousins, though, lived twice as far from them as we did.

Over time, I realized two things: First, my parents enjoyed spending time with my brother and me, and didn't take us to our grandparents' place to be babysat. Second, my grandparents never set up get-togethers with us the way they did with my cousins. To be fair, this applied to only one set of cousins, as my dad's youngest brother's daughters were born much later.

My dad was the middle child, the second of three brothers. He had been the lead singer for the family's singing group for a very long time, but had left the group to pursue his calling as a pastor. The fact that the singing group traveled a lot would explain much of the fact that my cousins spent more time with my grandparents. However, what about the many weekdays they spent together and the various social get-togethers my grandparents seemed to be arranging with them all the time?

It may seem petty, but such favoritism among the cousins had a lasting impact on my brother and me. Over time, we hardly knew our grandparents anymore. It stung each time we were at a family get-together and our cousins would show off the items my grandparents had bought for them. It stung each time we'd hear funny stories about things that had been said and done at one of the many events they'd gone to with my cousins.

I was a child. I was their grandchild. They showed no interest in me. That hurt. That left scars.

I didn't realize at the time that this was the pattern they'd followed with my father, either. Being the middle child, my dad was between the first-born son and the much younger "baby" son. The first-born was treated as if he could do no wrong, and the youngest son's every talent, accomplishment, and milestone was lauded and magnified. My dad worked two jobs and pastored a church full time, but went unrecognized.

I have five children. Two are adults and three are at home with me. I cannot fathom the thought process that allows a parent to favor one child over another. Some of my children are more like me than others. Some of them are totally different. Some communicate with me more and some less. Yet, with the birth of each subsequent child, my love for the previous ones did not decrease. My interest in them did not decrease. Just when I thought my family was complete, God added another person to it. However, instead of dividing a finite amount of love by one more person, it seems God added exponentially more love to my heart, and it increased toward all of my kids. That's what parenting should be.

Not so with some parents, though. It seemed, in my dad's case, that his parents' affections migrated toward the two sons (and their families) who had the most in common with them. My oldest uncle and my younger uncle remained in the singing group, cutting several albums with the family, and traveling with them from singing engagement to singing engagement. I guess that was what was important to them, at least more important than seeking out the middle son and his two sons who would have loved to have a relationship with their grandparents as well.

It's sad that people would neglect one of their children's needs for a relationship while boasting on and on about how wonderful their other sons were and how great their kids were. Frankly, I got sick of hearing it. For a long time I resented my cousins for it. I realized that was misplaced resentment, though, and have adjusted my thinking. I now have pretty good relationships with several of my cousins. With the rest of the family, my brother and I are still outsiders. Though we've lived respectable lives, stayed out of trouble, and spent our lives serving God rather than ourselves, we never could break into the favored status required to be an integral part of our family.

It still stings, to an extent. I'm not angry anymore. My grandfather passed on a couple of decades ago, and my grandmother is in her mid-nineties. I hold no ill-will toward her. I simply don't know her. She's a stranger. I know her time on earth is growing short. I expect that when I find she has gone to her reward, I'll pause and consider it just like I would any other acquaintance. However, it won't be as though I've lost someone close to me. That was her choice. Over nearly five decades, I've been nothing more than an afterthought.

This all came to mind recently as I've watched the same thing happen to my children. My wife has two sisters, each with multiple children. My in-laws are following a very similar pattern for different reasons. My wife is the oldest of the three daughters. She is a godly woman, a devoted wife, a fantastic mother. Her sisters' lives have been far less stable. Therefore, the lives of their children have been rather tumultuous.

Much as my grandparents remained attached to the sons with whom they shared the most common interests, my mother-in-law is doing the same. Two of her daughters are following diligently her examples in outlook and actions, choices, and consequences. As a result, she feels very comfortable with them, often justifying their behaviors while at the same time feigning great frustration with them in gestures that would rival the overacting of a stand-in vaudevillian entertainer.

My wife, because of her lifestyle choices, doesn't fit in. She doesn't drink, doesn't smoke, abuses no chemicals, is in a stable marriage. She speaks articulately, strives to better herself, is always learning, and is an integral part of her children's daily activities. She homeschools the children, cooks most things from scratch, has worked hard to support herself, and is respectful. She removes herself from the drama that typically surrounds so many people. Many of these traits make her much different than her siblings.

My mother-in-law, on the other hand, can identify with many of the choices that her second and third daughters. They are very similar in personality and outlook to her. Therefore, mother and daughters tend to band together, often to the exclusion of my wife. Reminiscent of my experiences as a child, my wife lives twenty minutes from her mother but rarely sees her. When my wife reaches out, she is filled in on how busy her mom is with her other two sisters and their children.

My wife recently gently expressed her frustration with the fact that her mom never has time for my wife or our kids. Her mom texted her, saying that they'd set up a time the following week to get together. My wife never heard back. Then, when my wife reached out again, asking about their get-together, her mom said she had to run some errands with one of her other grandchildren. Then, when my wife demonstrated how this fits the pattern, she was told that my in-laws would like to take my wife and children to the zoo to make up for it.

As the day for the zoo trip grew nearer, my wife was told that the other grandchildren would have to be there as well. Then the event never materialized because of separate activities with the other grandkids.

Look, I'm just going to say it like it is. I know this post is turning into a rant. That wasn't my intention. However, on the occasions when my in-laws have time for my kids, the other grandkids are almost always present. We all get to hear of all the special events they share, of the grandparents' days at school, of the babysitting, of the overnighters, of the times Grandma and Grandpa take them to their timeshare property, of the clothes they buy them, of the toys they buy them, etc. My kids sit wide-eyed at the stories of fun and adventure. They never say anything about it. But it marks them. It scars them the same way it scarred me as a child. It wounds my wife.

I'm probably in a unique position. Because of my background, it's a bit easier for me to be aloof and remove myself from circles of people who don't want to have two-way relationships. It's tougher for my wife. My kids, as well.

I'm okay with not being accepted into my in-laws' family. I am saddened for my wife and for our children, however. They deserve better.

My wife is the most loving, compassionate, giving person I've ever known. My children are the best behaved, brightest minded, most thoughtful and polite children you can imagine. If you're related to them and make yourself too busy to spend time with them, I pity you your loss.

My children deserve better.

I will give them better. My job as their father is to protect and provide for them. That is exactly what I will do. I will protect my family from as many of the selfish, careless wounds that come from people who should know better. And I will provide them a loving, fulfilling environment in which they can thrive and grow into healthy, wholesome, loving young adults. It's a shame their grandparents, aunts, and cousins will miss out on knowing them as they grow up.

The Dispensable, Disposable Man... A Disjointed Rant

Nary a day goes by when I don't hear or read of the woes of motherhood, womanhood, or wifehood. No, not by my wife, for she's not a complainer. However, society has become a "safe place" for womanly complaining.

Ah, the stresses of the angelic mothers out there! They cook, they clean, they (gasp) care for their offspring.

Today I was made aware of a Facebook post by a woman who was bemoaning the myriad stresses in her life. She, apparently, has several children. She complained that they were all too young to prepare their own meals, clean up after themselves, or--I guess--contribute anything of value to the family. She listed the multiple responsibilities she had throughout the day, how she didn't have time to pamper herself, how she rarely wore anything but sweats and no makeup, and had to pump milk for her youngest child.

To be fair, she posted this expression of "feel sorry for me" in a moms' group on Facebook, obviously expecting to receive accolades from her semi-anonymous sisters in the struggle. I'm sure she received it, as sympathy for the plight of a sainted mother who draws public attention to herself is the societally correct thing to do.

The women who say and post such self-serving things are rarely wont to recognize the hard work and sacrifices of their partners. No, in fact, they will more often than not complain about them as well. In their self-absorption, they will not see the contribution of the man, and if it is ever brought up they'll simply say, "well, that's just his job."

Let me be clear. Motherhood is hard. I get it. It's not hard to see that motherhood has a lot of challenges. However, complaining about it simply undermines any sympathy or empathy an outsider might be tempted to feel for you. Not only that, but motherhood is not any harder for you than for the billions of other mothers out there. Seriously, what makes you think your situation is so unique?

And I will say this, too. Motherhood is not one iota more difficult, hectic, frustrating, exhausting, or undervalued than fatherhood.

GASP!

Yes, you can complain about your children asking for something the second you sit down in your easy chair. You can complain about your children throwing tantrums and making messes. You can complain that you have to take the time to do a biological function that your body was specifically designed to do. And you'd be right. Those things are all very frustrating.

But while you're in the comfort of your home, watching your television or, more likely, taking the time to complain on Facebook about your woes, your husband has been working in just as high-stress an environment. He may not have even had the opportunity to sit down once throughout his work shift. He may have been dealing with tyrannical customers, an overbearing employer, the fear of failure, obnoxious coworkers or worse. He may have been cursed at, treated with utter distaste, or insulted to his face. He may have spent hours in sales meetings designed to tell him that he's not selling enough while at the same time he faces the frustration that this very meeting is keeping him off the sales floor. But you don't see him stopping to post his woe-is-me moment on Facebook. No, he doesn't have time for that. If he took as much time to complain as you do, chances are he'd be fired.  You see, in many cases, the very fact that you have the time to tap out your frustrations on your computer or phone is a clear indicator that you're not nearly as busy as you think you are. Maybe you don't manage your time very well, or maybe you simply don't try as hard as you want everyone to believe.

And that man who puts up with all that nonsense throughout his day may want only one thing: to walk in and see the smiling faces of his wife and children and know that they're excited to have him home. But he can't have that. He has to stay focused on the job. He can't just give up and let it pile up, because if he does he'll lose the job he only goes to in order to support you. Most people in this country don't go to work because they love it. They go because they have to to make ends meet.

Think about this the next time you have an "I don't care" day and just throw up your hands and quit making an effort: If he let junk pile up on his desk the way you let laundry pile up at the house, if he just sat and played on Pinterest instead of doing what he was being paid to do, if he routinely became so emotionally overwhelmed that he couldn't function at work, he'd probably get fired.

Yet, he hasn't fired you for doing all those things, has he?

So, my not-politically-correct advice to you? Suck it up, Buttercup. You've got life a lot easier than you think you do.

I was recently thinking about a woman whose intention was to sign up for in vitro fertilization and bear a child out of wedlock. She had no man in her life who could or would be a father figure to said child. The woman simply wanted a child, so she planned to bypass familial norms and have one. Because she wanted one.

Because she wanted.

Alright, let me be blunt: there are many single parents out there doing the best job they possibly can. There are many single parents out there who desire the best for their children. There are many single parents out there who have been abandoned by their partners, and through no fault of their own, found themselves in the unenviable position of having to raise a child alone. The sad truth, however, is that the vast majority of single parents played a critical role in their singleness. Most relationships do not end solely due to the actions or decisions of one member of the couple. Most relationships end because both partners put themselves before the one they claim to love. Selfishness is the primary reason for breakups and is usually practiced by both partners prior to a breakup. Lack of forgiveness is a sign of selfishness as well. Sex with someone you're not committed to is an extreme form of selfishness.

All that aside, I'd like to address the concept of intentionally bearing a child you plan to raise on your own. Selfishness is the only reason to plan a scenario like this. A child who does not yet exist has no needs, therefore, the desire to "have one" is selfishness at its core. Studies universally show that children benefit from two-parent families in a healthy home environment. Even these very women who desire to go it alone are emotionally moved when they see a good dad doing what he's supposed to do and bonding with his kids. It's innate knowledge in all of us that a healthy family consists of a father and a mother lovingly raising their children together.

Some fathers, and--admit it or not--some mothers are unfit for parenting. Abuses occur, neglect occurs, selfishness occurs. Families do not always remain intact, and in some cases, the children are safer and healthier when one of the parents is no longer in the picture. However, this is the exception to the rule, not the rule itself.

Often, those who have been the children of such dysfunctional scenarios have a very jaded view of fatherhood. Frankly, in a culture that has gradually devalued fatherhood, the vast majority of children from broken homes live full-time with their mothers. Absentee fathers are often demonized by the mothers as a way of reinforcing their own sense of value. Children pick up on that and are further traumatized by the custodial parent's ongoing derision of the other parent, a parent the child inevitably considers a part of himself (look up Parental Alienation Syndrome for more information).

However, to choose to remain single, for whatever reason, and still decide to bear a fatherless child is the epitome of selfishness. To recognize that children should have a father but to intentionally deprive them of one, simply because you want to possess a child without the effort of a relationship is evil.

Being a good parent requires you to always place the needs of your child before your own. To selfishly choose to bear a child with the full intention of depriving him of both of his parents automatically, and forever, disqualifies you from being called a good parent.

A Letter to My Children

A few days ago I watched the reports of a young woman humiliating herself on television and it set my mind in motion.  As of the writing of this letter, I have one adult son who is in the military, one teenage son who is in high school, one six-year-old son in first grade, and one 9-month-old daughter who is just learning to walk and talk.  I'm proud of you all and love you more than my own life.  You are on my mind every day, even on those days when I don't seem to reach out to you the way I should.

I tried to choose an image from the singer's performance
that showed the inappropriateness, but was the least
crude in what it depicted.  This was the best I could
come up with.

After watching a video of this young pop star, I began to think about the condition of the world into which you will all one day find yourself released.  The moral codes, the political climate, the crime, the education, the economy... These are all things that concern a parent.  

I spoke to a young man with whom I work, and he made a statement that caught me off-guard for a moment.  In regards to the sexualized gyrations and skimpy clothing this young woman chose to display, he said, "Look, girls dress and act like that at clubs and bars all the time.  The only reason this is getting noticed is because there were cameras and media there."  It makes sense.  Her behavior didn't really shock young people.  It's us older people who are out of touch with the youth party culture who seem to be standing aghast at her antics.

Now, I spent some time in clubs.  But, that was years ago.  Things were a bit different then.  His comment made me realize just how far things have come since my earlier days.  

It's an age-old thing.  People who lack important life-nutrients always find ways of seeking those things out, even when they don't realize that's what they're doing.  Children raised without strong, loving, stable parents will find ways to seek acceptance that are often unhealthy.  It isn't a new phenomenon.  In this pop star's case, we see a girl who grew up with a semi-absentee father who (admittedly) wanted to be her friend rather than an authority figure.  She grew up lacking the leadership that comes from a healthy relationship with a father. 

Not only that, but this beautiful young girl grew up in an affluent family, surrounded by people who constantly told her how great she was.  It's the way Hollywood works.  We build people up to the point of ridiculousness, then we criticize their every move.  We celebrate their external aesthetic features rather than focusing on the inner qualities that make a person great.  It's a superficial, topsy-turvy process that leaves countless unprepared young people destroyed in its wake. 

You are my children.  You are my sons and my daughter.  I love you with every fiber of my being.  And because I love you, I have a few things to say.  I am not perfect, or always right, or the smartest man in the world.  I am not infallible.  Sometimes I blow it.  Sometimes I make a fool of myself.  However, here are some promises I make to you:

I'm not always going to tell you what you want to hear.  Though one of the greatest joys in my life is to see your smile, that joy is outweighed by the joy of seeing you make wise decisions.  Those wise decisions will cause you to experience long-term fulfillment and to have a solid reputation that will serve you well throughout your life.  So I might adamantly disagree with you.  Please understand that the starting point of any discussion we might have is I love you.  Those three words are the foundation of every conversation we have.  I would rather anger you by telling you the truth than to stand back and watch you walk headlong into an oncoming railroad train.  So, expect to be angry with me from time to time.  I promise, it's for your own good.

I promise you will never have to wonder if your father loves you.  I may not always be good at showing it, but I will do everything in my power to solidify the fact in your mind.  I would give up my life for you.  I want nothing more than to spend time with you and to see you live a happy life.  My entire existence is committed to helping you do better in this world than I have done.

I promise to always listen.  I know it might seem awkward to talk openly with your father.  I know your friends might not understand your ability and desire to unashamedly discuss things with your father, but I want you to know that you can.  I promise to let you say what's on your mind and heart, and actually think about things from your viewpoint before I respond.  I can guarantee it won't always be easy for me, but I will do it because what you have to say is important and does have validity.

I promise to not always let you have your way.  The old phrase "as long as you live under my roof" will be in full effect here.  You see, I bear a responsibility in the eyes of God to raise you to be godly adults.  Godly adults are not self-centered, materialistic, lazy, or disrespectful.  I've been all of those things at one point or another, but God has changed me.  My job is to model a godly attitude to my children and require godly behavior in my household.  

I promise to celebrate your achievements.  When you go above and beyond what is required of you, I will celebrate in ways that will be obvious and probably a little embarrassing. I won't throw a party every time you pass a class or every time you clean your room.  I will, however, make an absolute spectacle of myself when you demonstrate your skills, talent, fortitude, and passion.  People who are celebrated when they do their jobs rarely have an incentive to excel.  Not everybody who plays a sport is a winner.  Not everyone who shows up for work deserves a promotion.  It is when you put in extra effort and reach beyond the basic requirements of a situation that you can achieve greatness.  I will lavish you with praise when you do something honorable, difficult, selfless, or creative.  Do something that demonstrates the greatness within you.

I promise I'll always be there for you when things don't go your way.  Even when you've done what we all do, making dumb choices, I'll be there.  There is nothing you could possibly do that would stop me from loving you.  I will always stand ready to be a shoulder to cry on when your world crumbles.  I'm not just your dad when things are good.  I'm your dad.

I'm far from perfect.  I'm no superhero.  But I will move heaven and earth to be what you need in a father.

I want you to see that your value lies not in the performances you put on for other people, but in the character you display when no one is looking.  I want to show you that you don't have to lower yourself to others' standards in order to be accepted.  I want to teach you to be so connected to true love that you immediately recognize the myriad counterfeits the world will throw your way.  I want to point you to the Truth that comes from above rather than settling with the perceptions of man.

I love you and always will.

Dad