When my boys were two and five, I felt ninety-seven years old. I was short on sleep and always overwhelmed. For a few years, my wife, Gwen, and I sat on different couches in the evening and mostly snapped at each other when we did speak. I wondered if there was a better way.
I read books, watched countless videos, and attended workshops, seminars, and trainings. I expected to find tools or a set of rules that would save us. I expected someone to tell me how best to parent. Instead, I discovered how to tune into my own parenting instincts and, equally importantly, to give my kids a little space, to accept help, to relax a little bit, and to forgive myself when I mess up. This has made all the difference.(READ MORE)
|
|