I'm reading Franz Kafka's Letter to My Father.
It is heartbreaking if you maintain any connection with your "child" self.
I think every parent should probably read it because it will make them think about how they interact with their own children.
Of course, I am a skeptic, and this is only Franz's letter that was never sent to his father.
We don't get Hermann Kafka's letter to his son.
Franz likely had what all people have in bits: myopia when it comes to their own irrational childhood thinking.
I was guilty of it as it concerned my own parents, and it took some therapy for me to come to some realizations.
Parents have their own baggage and anxieties that impact their children, and children often think they are the cause.
They are not the cause, but they experience the effects.
Still, just because a person has children doesn't mean that person knows anything at all about raising them.
I certainly don't claim to know all there is to know about raising children, but I do think my training as a teacher helps, as does reading lots of books about parenting.
Not forgetting my "child" self also helps.
I'm sorta a "kid" magnet, and I've never entirely understood why.
Kids just seem to gravitate to me.
I could say it is because I talk to them as I talk to anybody; I don't talk "down" to them.
I could say it is because I'm funny.
But I wonder if it is because they see something vulnerable in me that they relate to.
I've never quite lost that vulnerability that has seeped through my pores since childhood.
I've never quite worked through the doubt and the uncertainty and the fragility.
I sometimes wonder if kids sense that in me---a kindred spirit, of sorts.
As a teacher and a parent, I do not pretend or claim to know everything.
I am the first one to say I'm not an expert or the single voice of knowledge or the fountain of all that is holy and right about anything.
I try to be as forgiving of children as I wanted adults to be forgiving of me when I was a kid.
Sometimes I fail miserably, especially with my own children.
But I apologize and I explain myself, including my fears, my anxieties, the reasons why I am throwing a fit about whatever I'm throwing a fit about.
I have never liked nor respected the "I'm the adult, therefore you do what I say" logic.
I want explanation.
I want understanding.
Then, I may not like what you are asking me to do it, but I will do it with less grief because I know where it is coming from.
I'm also a firm believer in picking your battles very, very carefully.
If you insist on making every hill one you're gonna die on, you're going to be dying (and suffering) a lot.
It is heartbreaking if you maintain any connection with your "child" self.
I think every parent should probably read it because it will make them think about how they interact with their own children.
Of course, I am a skeptic, and this is only Franz's letter that was never sent to his father.
We don't get Hermann Kafka's letter to his son.
Franz likely had what all people have in bits: myopia when it comes to their own irrational childhood thinking.
I was guilty of it as it concerned my own parents, and it took some therapy for me to come to some realizations.
Parents have their own baggage and anxieties that impact their children, and children often think they are the cause.
They are not the cause, but they experience the effects.
Still, just because a person has children doesn't mean that person knows anything at all about raising them.
I certainly don't claim to know all there is to know about raising children, but I do think my training as a teacher helps, as does reading lots of books about parenting.
Not forgetting my "child" self also helps.
I'm sorta a "kid" magnet, and I've never entirely understood why.
Kids just seem to gravitate to me.
I could say it is because I talk to them as I talk to anybody; I don't talk "down" to them.
I could say it is because I'm funny.
But I wonder if it is because they see something vulnerable in me that they relate to.
I've never quite lost that vulnerability that has seeped through my pores since childhood.
I've never quite worked through the doubt and the uncertainty and the fragility.
I sometimes wonder if kids sense that in me---a kindred spirit, of sorts.
As a teacher and a parent, I do not pretend or claim to know everything.
I am the first one to say I'm not an expert or the single voice of knowledge or the fountain of all that is holy and right about anything.
I try to be as forgiving of children as I wanted adults to be forgiving of me when I was a kid.
Sometimes I fail miserably, especially with my own children.
But I apologize and I explain myself, including my fears, my anxieties, the reasons why I am throwing a fit about whatever I'm throwing a fit about.
I have never liked nor respected the "I'm the adult, therefore you do what I say" logic.
I want explanation.
I want understanding.
Then, I may not like what you are asking me to do it, but I will do it with less grief because I know where it is coming from.
I'm also a firm believer in picking your battles very, very carefully.
If you insist on making every hill one you're gonna die on, you're going to be dying (and suffering) a lot.
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