As our kids grew up, we faced huge
paradigm shifts. We were the one person on the planet entrusted to
be responsible for those lives – how they grew, the nutrients they
received, the weeds we needed to pull quickly. It's the most
important job many of us will ever have.
We put our interests, careers, and dry
clean only wardrobe options on hold. We gave up cars without the odd
french fry stuck in a place too small to reach, leisurely browsing at
magazines as we headed into the gauntlet of candy at store registers,
and sleep. Not for the sake of duty, but for love. Well … sleep?
Maybe that was a duty.
We looked upon their faces the first
time, and saw cherubic babies to nurture, protect and adore. God
does this for a reason. We need years of emotional investment, late
night fevers that fill us with fear, and glittery handmade Mother's
Day cards to sufficiently prepare us for the teen years.
It was those tender memories which
fueled the denial sustaining us through 12, 13 and 14. By the time
she hit 15, we'd adopted a marathon mentality... one more step, one
more stride, one more Saturday night of “ruining our her life.”
At 16, we could no longer recall the
sobbing little girl wrapped around our legs if we tried to go
somewhere without her. In her place was a creature of fury, slamming
her bedroom door, rolling her eyes, and deluded into believing we
were excited to sentence ourselves her to a week of restriction –
at home – with us – alone – with none of her friends to
distract the venomous viper princess of pessimism.
In truth, by the time she reached 14 we
were looking for ways to give her some money, the car keys and lift
her curfew while still being a good mother. We daydreamed of packing
up our things as she cleared the driveway and going on a vacation
that lasted, oh, 4 years, and yes... there was giggling involved.
Then there would be moments of
laughter, when we delighted in the young woman emerging from the
sulky teenager. Of course, young women have opinions on fashion and
style ...
Do you remember the style arguments?
Half naked is in style and a 14 year old does
need that much eyeliner! Her fresh pretty eyes were gorgeous in
their cleanest state, as my makeup sunk into newly formed “character
lines.” I fondly remembered a time when I didn't have to pull my
eyebrows up to locate the contour shadow “in the crease.”
The wearying teen years sucked the
youthful optimism from the very marrow of our bones. The image of us
reflected in their eyes told us we were no fun, middle aged,
uninteresting. I think it's the reason we have that mid-life period
of rebellion after they take their shoe collection, electronics and
stray socks and move out. It's freedom for everyone involved. Even
our men show signs as they parade around the house in their underwear
for no other reason than “they can.”
The people we spend our time with like
us, encourage us, laugh with us. The very absence of the
disapproving and suspicious frowning faces lighten our steps and
eases our trepidation about who we are. And somewhere in those last
two sentences... I thought … that's how they probably feel also.
A quote from Stasi Eldredge about her
mother, “I felt I was a disappointment to her in what I believed,
how I dressed, what I thought, and who I was. It wasn't until I was
forty-one years old that I realized I made her feel exactly the same
way.
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