Unconditional Love...and Frustration

I didn’t know what unconditional love was until my kids came along. I've never for a moment wished I didn't have either of them. I even get teary-eyed sometimes watching my son getting a Cub Scout award or when my daughter smiles and waves at me from up on the dance stage. Being their father has given me more purpose and a sense of wholeness than I've ever had before.

But that hasn’t stopped them from testing to see just how unconditional that love is. Surely I’m not the only parent that has discovered that the intensity of love for their children is matched only by the degree of frustration that sometimes comes along with raising them.

I know that a lot of it is just their going through a developmental phase. I know that they’re really not better or worse than any other typical kid. It’s just hard to keep that in mind when their behavior defies rational explanation.

My beautiful little four-year-old daughter can go from wildly happy to terminally grumpy on a dime. We’ve have some truly frustrating moments when she’s venting her anger at a perceived mistreatment. Just tonight, in fact, she really pitched a huge fit about something that seems irrational. Sometimes she makes me crazy. And she’s not even close to being a teenager yet.

My son, as good as he is, has given us opportunities to get frustrated, too. For instance, there have been many times we’d have to deal with him coming home an emotional mess after spending some quality time with friends. My wife and I would be getting him ready for bed and he’d be crying and blubbering inconsolably.

We’d hug him and pat his back and do our best to try to calm him down. When we’d ask him why he was so upset, he’d tell us something like “I just had so much fun…I miss [insert friend’s name here] so much!” This would be followed by more uncontrollable sobbing.

Of course, this really made us feel like chopped liver. Was coming back home really so terrible? Were we, as parents, incapable of providing him with enjoyment in his life? Was he afraid that he’d never ever have any fun again, ever?

My wife and I started calling this phenomenon “post-ecstatic stress disorder” (a condition resulting from having too much fun) just so we could laugh at the situation.

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Well, a little while ago, my daughter tiptoed into the room and walked up to me. She smiled at me like an angel, gave me a hug and told me how much she loves me. Everything seems to be right with her world again. These are the moments I live for.

No, I've never for a moment wished I didn't have either of my kids. I just hope I can keep remembering how much I love them through all of the ups and downs coming up.