A "Good Enough" Parent

What is a good dad or a good mum?

That's a really tough question. Maybe all you or anybody else can really expect to be is 'good enough'. Maybe it's certain that you'll get it wrong sometimes, make mistakes and have regrets about something that you wish you had done differently. The main thing is to do the best you can in whatever your circumstances are. Maybe learning to be a dad or a mum is a long job and maybe the learning never stops.
Possibly you're reading this because things seem a little tough at the moment and you're trying to understand your role in trying to make things feel a bit better for everyone.

Making Connections: Did you ever wonder where you got your ideas about how to be a dad or a mum?

The chances are that you learned a lot from your own dad or mum (or other main care giver) when you yourself were a child. Your own experience of being a child may have helped to shape the way you are as a dad or a mum. Sometimes that means NOT doing things the way your family did them!

See what you think about some of the thoughts that came up when we asked some dads and mums to try to make connections between their memories of being a child and how they think of parenting now.

Maybe some of these examples will start you thinking about your own stories and making connections of your own. If this does happen and you want to talk about how it impacts you now as a dad or as a mum you can contact us

A father of four:

I remember my own dad worked away from home a lot, We might only see him two or three times a year. He worked away like this from when I was 8 until I was 12.
It was obvious to us (me and my brothers) that mum was really unhappy about him working away. I think the money must have been good but she seemed to spend the whole time being either angry at him or at us. If we misbehaved she would hit us and shout about how tough she had it, being left alone to raise us on her own.
She never gave me the idea that she missed him for himself, it was more about feeling that she was hard done to. She was always angry; I guess you might say that she wasn't coping very well.

I think I grew up very fast; I took on responsibility for things like maintaining the garden and looking after my little brothers. It never really felt out of the ordinary at the time, it just felt like I had to do it. In some ways, the hardest part was when dad eventually did come home for good. I didn't know him.

He must have wanted to take back the father role; I found that I resented him a lot. I cried when he started to do things in the garden, it had become my garden and I just wanted him to say how well I had done with it. He never did.

When I think of my own kids I try to give them time. Sometimes we don't even need to be doing anything special, I just want to be around. Sometimes I get really busy with work; it is very easy to get drawn in to going away for trips, working evening and weekends and working at home in the evenings. Maybe sometimes I think that I really do understand what it must have been like for dad with the financial pressures and responsibility for a large family.

I try to talk to my kids, find out what they are thinking and let them see me as a person rather than just a role (a father). I want to know them and want them to know me. I hope that if I show them consistent love and care, stick around and am there for them when they need me that they will grow up confident and happy.
I don't see myself as a perfect father, but I think that my mistakes will be my own.
Maybe my dad did his best - but I still wish things had been different.

A father of one:

I remember my own Dad used to bring home sweets on a Friday night; it was pay day. After tea we would all sit down together to watch telly and eat sweets. I loved it. Even then I knew that this was special. Everyone was happy. It wasn't the sweets or the telly, it was that warm feeling of being together and knowing everything was okay.

When I think of my own kid I try to give him this same sense of being safe and being loved. I don't know if I get it right, but I still think of those magic Fridays and hope my own boy can have memories like that.

A mother of two:

I don't think I really ever got to know my Dad until I grew up and realised how tough it was being a parent!

My parents divorced when I was 18. I had already left home and my sister was a teenager making her own way in the world. I now realise they both made the assumption that having 'stayed together because of the kids' they were both now free to go their separate ways.

Every time I returned from college, my 'home' became increasingly unfamiliar. My sister was withdrawn and unhappy, my mum started to relive her youth and strangers became friends and she became a stranger and unrecognisable to me.
My Dad just vanished. I was a grown up in his eyes and he waited for me to make contact. But this was unfamiliar territory for me and I didn't know the rules and I had no grownups to guide me. They were still my parents and I wasn't ready to quite let go of that, but they let go of me first.

I remember visiting him for the first time and I realised he had our old sofa. I remember thinking it looked like a rejects house, that he had somehow been cast aside whist Mum made a new life for herself that was somehow jolly and bright.
We all eventually found a way to make sense of that time; my Mum remarried a wonderful man who has shown me much love and laughter. My Dad is happy with a childhood sweetheart and me.

When I think of my own kids I realise that parents are people too - but that parenting is forever. So when I separated from my partner, I was determined that however difficult, however complicated, our son had the right to have the best possible relationship with his father.

A mother of two:

I never saw my parents' row. Their relationship was cold but civil (mostly!) I saw my Dad try to hug Mum once but she froze and he let go. I still remember him looking so hurt and that was 30 years ago. They divorced as soon as they could after my sister and I had left home.

When I married my first real grownup boyfriend at 21 I had never seen anyone row. I didn't realise that you could disagree, get angry or frustrated or sad or any of the other strange and powerful emotions that seem to come thick and fast when the honeymoon wears off!

So after our first proper row, I assumed it was over! It took me some years to discover the art of forgiveness, saying sorry, negotiating or standing up for what you believe without losing the plot! I struggled to show affection, to give and receive love. I blamed the men in my life - my father mostly. That relationship never lasted, nor did the next one or the one after that.

When I think of my own kids, becoming a parent changed everything. Now I had a choice-- to carry on or to do things differently. I chose different! Now I love it when my husband still wants to squeeze me over the dirty dishes or hold my hand even if my two boys do run giggling from the kitchen. I show them what it is to disagree, make up, and be a friend even when it's tough. Being a family is about love and laughter, falling in and out with each other and being able to start your day again.
So my Dad was the way he was and did the best he could but I have a choice and I know I got that from somewhere too!

A mother of two:

I don't remember my dad as he decided he did not want to be part of my life and my mum's. I really envied my friends who had dads-even the grumpy dads.

My mum did her best, but money was always tight and I knew that if I went on a school trip, my mum had to go without something. I also knew that lots of things my friends did-dance classes, pony rides were absolutely out of the question, so I never asked.

I always felt loved by my mum, and I wanted her to be proud of me because she always wanted the best for me. But I always wished I had a dad.

When I think of my own kids, I let them have time just with their dad. My son used to go camping with his dad, and my daughter learned to ride with him. Sometimes, I felt envious of the relationship they have with him-but I know it's best for them.