We drop the kids off at college next week. Ben for his final year, and Zach for his first. But I don’t think of us as empty nesters. It’s more like our nest now spans two cities. Some of you are ahead of us in this journey, others are just getting started. But this inflection point felt like a good juncture to write out and share some mid-parenting journey reflections.
Box of Chocolates. You can’t choose their personalities, talents, or height. You might love sports, they might love Hogwarts. Health scares are equal opportunity terrors. A best friend (or that antagonist!) might move to Berlin. Social media is a minefield. Children can be cruel. Your mission is to know them as best as you can, and to love them for who they are. This is easier said than done in a world that is constantly bombarding you with the notion that if you just do more, they will be perfect and perfectly happy. Nobody is perfect or perfectly happy, only perfectly loved. To love them graciously, loyally and fiercely is a tall enough order.
Failing without Flailing. The practice swing is the only one you’ll get. So, you’ll get things wrong. A lot. Even with the second kid, it’s still your first time around. Your baggage will block their runway. Your best intentions will lead to ruin. You will feel powerless and angry and guilty (but occasionally, not all at once). Forgiveness is the key. Forgive your partner. Forgive your kid. Forgive yourself. Discipline, values and consequences are important – but all paths must lead to forgiveness. Forgiveness is the magical reset button. But here’s the key to it: the more you give, the more you get. Do you have a deep well you can tap for it?
Unfazed by Phases. The phases are a real thing. The terrible twos are terrible. Pre-teen is jarring. Puberty is hard. They will take you by surprise even if you are expecting them, and you will feel suddenly and desperately ill-equipped. The kid hacks you spent months and years refining will stop working overnight. Panic will set in…but you’ve got this. Pause, recognizing that the rhythm has changed. Listen for it. Your child is still yours and you still know them, shaken to the core as you might be. You also know your own buttons and when they are being pushed. Be honest with yourself, and try to catch the new beat. It’s like learning a new dance – lots of left feet and mis-steps at first, but after a few reps you start to figure it out, just like you did the last one. As you stumble through…see paragraphs above.
Sunrise, Sunset. I love these lyrics from the 1964 musical, Fiddler on the Roof: Seedlings turn overnight to sunflowers, blossoming even as we gaze. My dad used to sing it when our house went through our “Broadway Years” era. The time really *does* go by too fast. Especially if your kids are young, please, please, please: find time to freeze frame. Slow down time and just watch them – watch them color Bluey, watch them button a shirt, watch them learn to whistle. Their baby brains are accelerating through experiences and skills at light speed, and before you know it, the gentle hills will have been climbed and they are on to the mountains. Take the time to be amazed by them when they are little miracles – because you will carry that amazement into their adulthood, and it will make all the difference when your relationship changes from parent to friend.
Summer’s almost gone, but not quite.
J