“I love you on your good days. I love you on your bad days. I love you when you are smiling and full of joy. I love you when you are sad or frustrated. I love you when you are loud, and I love you when you are quiet. I love you when you laugh, and I love you when you are angry. I love you when you make mistakes, and I love you when you try new things. There is nothing, not one single thing, that you can be or do that will take 1% of my love away. It is permanent.”

One of the best gifts I can give my sons is the gift of repair. It is not something that comes naturally to parents, especially if they did not see it modeled in their own household. I saw my parents repair many, many times. The times when doors were slammed, voices were raised, and, occasionally, a loaf of bread or shoe was thrown across the room. Then they repaired. As a small person, I saw that anger was a normal emotion – even though it was often not controlled or emoted safely – and that the after-effects are important to pay attention to. The repair. The return to safety, to love, and to forgiveness.

But I had to work on how that translated to motherhood. I didn’t know how to really apologize to my children when I acted like a human – that is to say, when I made mistakes, tried something new and failed, became overwhelmed and careless with my words, etc. But I knew that it was important. I knew that I was parenting three different humans, and therefore, I was going to need to be three different versions of myself as a mom. And have three different ways to model apologizing, contrition, and forgiveness.

The age gap between my eldest, O, and my second born, N, is 3 years and 7 months. From N to the youngest, R, there is 3 years, 7 months and 8 days. So I had a long runway from one child to the next. A long time of getting to know each one before the next came alone. Though it will make me older than my peers at R’s graduation, it was a wonderful time to try on which kind of mom each son needed. But with that “trying on” came different needs, mistakes, repairs and frustrations. O was quiet, introspective, and very easy to reason with. He skipped the Terrible 2s and Trying 3s. He was a sweet and attentive big brother and was very concerned about the needs of everyone in the house. Until he turned 7, and then, he was disinterested in the brotherhood aspect of his life. He is largely in his own world and frequently bursts out in frustration that the other two exist in his orbit. N was loud, emotive, cranky, and needed skin-on-skin constantly. I mean, I probably wore a bra 9 times in the first year of his life. Forever topless. Forever cold. Forever sleepy. He had insatiable hunger and a refusal to be laid flat. But he is the tender caregiver of his younger brother. Most days, he has endless attention to play, to answer questions and to offer a helping hand. He was meant to be a big brother and, even with the age difference, he takes this role seriously. R was my calm Buddhist baby. He had an easy joy and contentment that was likely because he knew he was entering a newly broken home, and he needed to make as little waves as possible. Even now, he is an observer and is quick to bring the joy and the affection.

But as each of them has grown, I have watched them rip and repair one another. They give an extra dose of damage to me, their forever safety net. As the older two have entered pre-teen and teenage years, it is my job to teach them about the repair with their parents and teach it by example.

“It is ok to be mad at me, but you can’t scream relentlessly. Do that in your room.”

“It is ok to tell me I have hurt your feelings and let me apologize and fix it.”

“It is ok to be disappointed and frustrated, but you need to communicate with your words if you need space.”

“It is ok to hate me in the moment, but don’t let it fester and plant roots.”

O is still level-headed at 14 and works at talking through his thoughts, feelings, and needs. I know that he is forever a mom’s-boy but sometimes, he needs my husband to talk things through with because men understand men better. I am grateful that my husband emphasizes repair, knowing that pretending it didn’t happen offers you a saving-face moment, but robs the other of healing and forgiveness. N is our sullen turtle – eyes turn dark, chin tucks slightly, and I watch him pull inside where he can’t be reached. There is no forcing him out – not by scolding, begging, bribing, or yelling. That is the power he has and the power he loves. He has ultimate control over when and if he speaks. That makes repairing harder, but at 10, the hormonal changes show up differently. He will shut me out in an instant, but my husband has the patience and presence he needs. So I leave him to it. R is small and empathetic – he quickly apologizes on his brother’s behalf if we have gone a few rounds. Those younger ones are always soaking up the scene. “I am sorry you are having a hard day.” “I am sorry the day is so horrible.” My hope is that he will watch the repair that happens and easily model it for himself.

The predictability of error and the promise of repair allow grace to grow within ourselves as parents and in our children as human beings. The perfectionism I used to chase, the performance that I upheld to earn love and favor, and the self-defeating treadmill of negative self-talk are things I have worked hard to heal & leave behind. If not just for myself but also so that I do not pass them down as poisoned blankets to infect their joy and optimism. I want them to watch me do it with my husband. I want them to watch me do it with them. I want them to feel natural when doing it with each other. I want to count on them becoming men who will not be ashamed of their missteps and mistakes, but men who honor that it is only when you make mistakes do you grow. If you aren’t making a repair, then you are making a sacrifice. Sacrificing time, sacrificing peace, sacrificing memories and sacrificing a future where we can get on with it.

Steps to repair:

• Be the first one to apologize — it has to start with you. This shows that it is safe and natural to be the one at fault.
• Take responsibility for your actions – be specific about what was not ok about what you did or said. Learning to apologize always includes “for” – “I am sorry for…”
• Give your child some space – but put a time limit on it “I am going to check in with you in an hour, unless you want to come to me before that.” Without the time limit, it could feel like they are being cast aside or frozen out.
• Offer Reconnection – nothing overly fake or cheerful. Just proximity and affection, if that is their love language.
• As the saying goes, “When you know better, you can do better.” And when you need to repair, you do it. There is no ego worth sacrificing your relationship over.