family

Alpha Parent

I am right in one area of my life. The kid. He hates that. But I was the alpha in his life and alphas are always spot on because we wrestle with them in the trenches of life. I like messy. I am messy. I understand messy, I gre up messy. The hubs is not messy. Nope, neat, tidy, and is now the swooper buddy. My term. He can do no wrong. I do everything wrong. It’s ok, because I am right.

But right causes conflict. I push and he pulls. I know this but I continue because yup you got it, I am right. The alpha parent (very new age labeling, thank you very much) has gone through the twists and turns, and we have had a few. I watched, listened, cried, drove all over town looking for him, took him to the ends of my world and back again. I blame myself. Everyday. For everything. Insert therapist. Nope. Our bond is too strong. It is just my cross to bear. The kid will feel this one day with his little, because he is the alpha and he has my heart and very effed up mind. Sorry. But not. This feeling while miserable at times is wonderful. It is a connection throughout time and space that no one can break.

But I am still right. I will never stop cheering until he finds his voice outside of the arena of “dad” which is truly his finest moment.

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