I'm not perfect

Please forgive me.

Photo by Simon Berger on Unsplash

The last two weeks have been rough.

I mean, really, really rough.

It’s been one of those stretches where life throws at you all you can handle. Only you barely notice the heat because you’ve grown used to putting out wildfires.

But when my precious Parker gets tangled in my mess, my heart hurts. Meals don’t taste the same. Nights grow long and sleepless. I suffer because she should never have to. Not because of something out of her control.

Two weeks ago, I was late picking up Parker. I can’t remember the last time that happened. It’s been that long. Yet my tardiness carried excessive consequences. Let’s just say the punishment didn’t fit the crime.

Still, my error sparked a series of events that confused Parker and exposed her to some harsh realities.

It was the second unfortunate moment between us since Memorial Day. Then, I got on Parker for a lapse in judgment. The words I chose that day weren’t my finest as a parent.

I’m afraid both instances shattered Parker’s overinflated image of me as Black Panther.

Until now, I’d just been “Daddy.” In Parker’s eyes, I could do no wrong. She might still believe I have superpowers. Carrying her hoverboard with one hand as we walked to the park last week blew her mind. But no longer does Parker view me as being the perfect father.

Our relationship has sprouted into its next stage. She’s grown, and our Daddy-daughter bond has evolved.

Because of our recent hiccups, we’ve been forced into tough but honest conversations. They don’t always paint me in the best light. But I’d rather Parker learn the truth about me if it helps her sniff out fakeness in others.

We’re at that point in our journey.

Fifth grade starts in two weeks, and Parker turns 11 in just 4 1/2 months. 

I’m walking the delicate balance between preserving my baby’s innocence and preparing her for when the world inevitably reveals its ugly truths.

I learned to walk in my truth in the aftermath of divorce. But my comfort doesn’t bring any solace to Parker as she grows up in a broken family. It doesn’t make up for the pain and confusion that comes from divorced parents or reduce my remorse.

Above all, the past two months reminded me of my enormous responsibility to Parker. She’s still young. She’s still impressionable. With virtually every move I make, Parker is there, watching, judging, learning. Whatever I do, however I converse and conduct myself, she will assume it to be normal.

It’s the only reason why I feel I must be perfect. I must set a good example.

But by no means do I have everything figured out.

As the Money Talks family steadily grows, I hope our audience remembers that as well. I hope my columns never come off like I’ve got money all figured out. Because I certainly do not.

I’m learning as I go.

I hope others see the changes happening in real time to a real person and implement any that might work for them.

But I’m not Black Panther.

I’m just trying to be the best papa I can be.