As I've tried to sort though a lot of my life's baggage this year, I've thought a lot about my parents and their influence on my life. Like all parents do, my parents influenced my life in both positive and negative ways. This influence was both intentional and unintentional, of course. Thankfully, I've never wondered even once if either of my parents loved me. They've always shown me love. They've always been there for me when I couldn't even get out of my own way. They are not perfect parents, but they are my parents...and they are the only ones I'll ever have.

I did something this year that I should have done a long time ago. I went to counseling. I'm not embarrassed by that and frankly, a lot of people don't go who should. I wasn't much of a believer in it, but I've seen what a difference it has made in my life. I think if more people would go and just be transparent, they'd be amazed by how much it would help them. Anyway, as I was talking about my childhood and some of the things that happened in it (I wrote "The Day I Died " about some of those experiences.), my counselor said something that I've thought about many times. He said, "Your parents were really just kids with kids."

Just kids with kids.

That's right. They were. My parents were both 22 when I was born. I'm 48 now, so I've long since passed 22. You know what I did when I was 22? I made decisions that altered the course of my whole life. I did stupid things. Things...plural. And you know what? You probably did too. But you know what I wasn't doing? I wasn't changing diapers, getting up in the middle of the night to a crying child, and I didn't have to work for anyone but me. I have a lot of friends who were parents by the time they were 22 (or younger), but I never...NOT ONCE...considered my own parents being only 22 when they had me.

When I was a little boy, I thought my parents were the experts on everything. You probably had a similar experience with your own parents. I mean, come on, I was a little boy. I didn't know anything about anything. When I wanted to know, who did I ask? Well, my parents. Because, in my mind, they knew EVERYTHING. When I was teaching and my students used to complain about their parents and how "clueless" they were about life, I would ask them...in all seriousness..."When you were 5, who did you think was the smartest person you knew?"

Almost every single time the reply would be, "My mom" or "My dad."

I'd follow that up with, "Right. Now, how do you think that, in 10 years, they managed to get so stupid?"

Sometimes, my point was made right then. Other times, the little darling would say, "I don't know!"

I'd then follow it up with, "Look, it's just a phase. They will be really smart again in about 10 more years."

Shockingly (not really), some of them missed my point.

But I digress. My point here is to make the fairly obvious point that my parents were just kids when they had me. Yes, they shaped me, my belief and value systems, raised me to be respectful, to obey the law, to work hard, to love my friends and family, and a million other things. But they were 22. They weren't experts on anything, really.

And all this time I thought they were.

How could I have missed the simple fact that they were just kids having kids? How could I have missed that they really had no clue what they were doing and just did the best they could? I was 25 when I became a father for the first time and I literally had NO CLUE what I was doing. Without question, the most terrified I've ever been was the first night we had Tyler at home by ourselves. I had no business with this brand new baby. I was unqualified. I'm just a caveman. I went into his room many nights just to make sure he was still breathing. I didn't trust the baby monitor through which I could hear his tiny baby breaths. I had to see for myself...and every single time I went in there, I was terrified. Everything about being a father scared me to death.

But it never crossed my mind to ask my own mom or dad if they experienced those exact feelings. Why is that?

I don't know the answer to that, but I do know this: My parents, while being experts in my little boy eyes so many years ago, were just flawed human beings doing the best they could do. No one gave them a "how to" book when I was born (In fact, I think those are confiscated once you have kids as the people WITHOUT children have all of the answers on how to be a good parent). They had much less information on safety available to them than we do now (I rode in the area just under the back window on long trips, for heaven's sake!!). I drank from water hoses, didn't wear seat belts ever, and rode my bike without a helmet.

Most likely, your parents fit the same description as mine...just kids having kids. Maybe it's time you realized that and cut them a break. Maybe you already realized it and I'm late to the party. Either way, when you begin to look at your parents as just people who had a baby that they tried to love the best they knew how, it's a little liberating. Or, it was for me.

My favorite word to hear is "dad." I love my children more than I love myself and I'd gladly and willingly give my life for them right now...with no questions asked. That doesn't make me special. Most parents would do that without thinking. But I was able to love and appreciate my own parents better when I became a father. When we went to the parenting classes before Tyler was born (we didn't go before we had Lyndsay because we were already "experts" since we'd had Tyler 22 months before), I was asked, "What have you learned that stands out to you the most?"

I answered, "I've learned just how much my parents love me." You see, until I became a parent, I didn't get it. Unless you have kids, you don't either. But one day, you will.

For now, though, realize that your parents were probably just kids having kids when they had you...and give them a break.

I love you, Mom. I love you, Dad. Thanks for doing your very best...even when you didn't know what you were doing.