Confession

I have a confession. It's not as though it's some deep dark secret, or something I've kept hidden for years - it's actually one of those epiphany moments where you realize some deep truth about yourself, that wasn't patently obvious - then suddenly is.
I have three children. Between my kids, there is a 22 month gap from first to second - then an eight year gap from second to third.
My confession?
I wasn't a very good parent.

Okay, yes, all three of my kids are healthy, mostly well adjusted and have made it this far, so in that respect, I suppose you could say I was a good parent. My kids were never neglected.
But the little things - the bits and pieces of parenting that seem trivial, but are no less important - I wasn't very good at those.
I never chased after my boys to do homework, complete assignments, Hell, I never even really chased after them to go to school.
My excuse? Well, I have a lot of excuses - but they seem thin and meaningless when examined in the cold light of day. I was young, I was overly confident in my parenting abilities, *I* knew better! But the one that sticks out the most, the one excuse I can cling to with no reservations is the one that is the honest truth.
The schools were unresponsive to my second child's special needs. They constantly called me about every behavior issue, every hygiene issue, every tantrum, every peep the kid made - they essentially badgered me to the point where I'd physically cringe when the phone rang and the caller ID showed the school calling. I lost jobs (good jobs, with important income) over this. It stressed me, my marriage, and my family - Eventually, apathy became my catch phrase when it came to the school. I just no longer cared.
In turn, this filtered down (or up) to my eldest son. His grades were poor, his attendance was mediocre, and I just couldn't muster the strength to suck it up and force him to do homework or even go to school. Also in turn, I cared little about the "little" things - keep your room clean, brush your teeth, shower daily. My eldest child was on his own - with no guidance. Mostly because 99% of my attention was diverted to my second child's issues.
Now, one might say, I can't possibly blame those things on the school, but in a weird way, I can justify them because of the school. You see, because of their actions, I became clinically depressed - therefore, every action or in-action was a result of the way they made me feel.
When we moved, we started a new school, and things got better, even though the boys ended up in alternative schools, they did better in school, brought up grades, and became really decent young men. Young men I'm very proud to say are my sons.
So I ask myself, was it because of the school system, or did I just somehow manage to pull my shit together?
Probably a little of both.

So here I am, ten years later.
I have a third child now. She's brilliant. Does her homework the minute she comes home from school, brushes her teeth, listens, is respectful...she essentially is the child that all three of my children SHOULD have been had I been better, had I been stronger.
I have no excuses for my lack of strength. I have nothing to offer except an apology to my boys for not being the mother I could and should have been to them.
They know (at least I hope they do) that I love them with every fiber of my being, I never abused them - but I also want them to know I'm so very sorry.
They ask me sometimes why #3 gets away with more than they did, and I'm always sort of flabbergasted by the question - I don't think she does at all, my only reply is - "I'm trying to be a better parent than I was to you guys." I've learned, I've grown and I've healed.
I hope someday, they can understand.