My entire lack of rose-colored glasses

First of all, anything in the pink family isn't really my color, so rose never really stood a chance. But even if I loved rose... I've never really been much for overlooking flaws. I love my kids, that isn't up for debate, but I see my kids for who they are perfection, imperfection and everything in between.

I read an article in a parenting magazine this morning giving advice to parents who are blind to their childrens' flaws. The parents who see their child in a squabble with another kid and ask "what did little so-and-so do to provoke my angel-face?" Really the advice was for the other parent in that situation, the one who's thinking "I think they're both to blame" but since angel-face's momma is unwilling to see it the realist is left alone to discipline their child while the equally-at-fault friend watches, wondering "what's this whole discipline thing."

Fault is really irrelevant. It has always seemed silly to point fingers. I point fingers, I'm human. But when I'm trying to model good behavior for my kids I always try to ride the line of You shouldn't have done X and I shouldn't have done Y so lets hug it out and move on. Anyway, back to the point...

The article was talking about kid/kid interactions, not kid/unraveled TP all over the bathroom floor interactions. Discipline is pretty crystal clear when there's only one possible perpetrator. When there are multiple children and multiple parenting styles involved that's when the water gets murky.

Reading the article made me flashback to a day that I picked Jack up from school/camp and the teacher told me "Jack was in an altercation with another boy today."
My first thought was craaaap. So I said "Oh, I'm sorry! What did he do?"
"Jack didn't do anything, the other boy was picking on him." Say what?!
I certainly don't believe Jack is nothing but trouble, but he and trouble are certainly... friendly. He's passionate and impulsive, traits I lovingly gave to him. Traits that sometimes allow me to be caring and fun-loving and other times allow be to find trouble like a moth drawn to a flame. So I get him, perhaps because I get myself.

It made me chuckle to remember that pick-up day and how my mind went immediately to wonder what my little angel face did. Turns out he might actually be a little bit of an angel face. Maybe every once in a while I should force myself to put on the rose colored glasses. Just to see how things look. (But just for a minute.)