Beth’s thoughtful post from yesterday got me feeling all
shmoopy about how all we can do is the best that we can do. It's not in fact crisis week at MYE, as evidenced by certain beautiful boozy lunches out in the tundra. We may have angst here out west, but at least we have sunshine. And rain. Hail. whatever.
Here's my thing: I'm finding it hard to let go of the expectations we had for our
children, expectations that were shaped by our own childhoods, despite the fact that our
childhoods did not even remotely resemble the lives that our children are
leading. I understand this on a cognitive level, I know that the times
they are a-changing. I try not to spend too much time muttering about how
things were back in the day and whacking unruly whippersnappers with my cane. Get off my lawn!
So I get that it's different now, and that electronics have shifted the scope of social relationships. If, say, some mean spirited little shitbag wants to mess with my kid’s head or heart, she doesn’t have to run through my interference to do so. Back in the day, the shits had to call my house and ask if they could speak with me, they did not have direct access. Now everyone has a cell phone and a wireless device with text plus and the shits have direct and continuous access to each other. It puts a huge burden on them to figure out the things that our parents slyly managed to impart during the brief yet powerful moment of handing over the phone. A look or a tone or an outright warning that I heard loud and clear whenever so-and-so was calling for me: Watch yourself with this one. Don’t trust too much. We parents of today need to find new ways to pass along our wise warnings and unwise utterances. We’ve got to find ways to keep the conversation open.
We've also got to accept the thing that all parents have had to accept, always and forever since the cavemen looked at their spawn with furrowed protruding brow and wondered "who is this?" Our kids are not ourselves.
So I get that it's different now, and that electronics have shifted the scope of social relationships. If, say, some mean spirited little shitbag wants to mess with my kid’s head or heart, she doesn’t have to run through my interference to do so. Back in the day, the shits had to call my house and ask if they could speak with me, they did not have direct access. Now everyone has a cell phone and a wireless device with text plus and the shits have direct and continuous access to each other. It puts a huge burden on them to figure out the things that our parents slyly managed to impart during the brief yet powerful moment of handing over the phone. A look or a tone or an outright warning that I heard loud and clear whenever so-and-so was calling for me: Watch yourself with this one. Don’t trust too much. We parents of today need to find new ways to pass along our wise warnings and unwise utterances. We’ve got to find ways to keep the conversation open.
We've also got to accept the thing that all parents have had to accept, always and forever since the cavemen looked at their spawn with furrowed protruding brow and wondered "who is this?" Our kids are not ourselves.
It's hard to let go of the vision I had of what my kids’ lives would be like,
and dreams about the things they would and could want to do as they grew to be young
adults. But I’ve come to the realization that it’s time for a new vision. It’s time to let go of remorse about what has changed
and regret about what I might have done differently. It’s time to accept who my child is and who he is not, and
to celebrate all that makes him him
rather than mourn all that makes him not
me.
There is no room for shame, and no regrets. Maybe we'll allow ourselves a brief pause to lament that it's not going to be as easy to grow up as I've convinced my adult self that it once was for my back-in-the-day teenage self.
Yesterday was a difficult day. Today will be better. Right???
Yesterday was a difficult day. Today will be better. Right???
6 comments:
But once they reach their 40's...they magically do become the people you always hoped they would be.
Love, Pat
Aw Jacq. Hang in there -- your kids are great! As are you & Bill! Love you & miss you. xoxo
Well, according to my mom, you only have 26 years or so until everything is good, lol.
I love this post, Jacquie. And I think you are right. About so many things. Times *are* different. Althogh I don't think the junior high years have ever been easy.
You should ask my mom abuot my brother's 8th grade year. Whoo boy. He had to leave the state for greener pastures! But it worked out, and it will for your boy too!!
He will mature into an interesting, smart, happy man. Who is not you. Or Bill. (But who knows you've got his back.)
Forward with your new vision and no regrets! Tomorrow WILL be better.
Love you,
Beth
Heavy duty posts from you and Beth, Jacquie. You both are so awesome and such amazing parents - I look at you and wonder at your patience and enthusiasm - was I ever like that??? I love Pat's response, it does get better - really.... I love you. mom
I've come to the conclusion that I should stop thinking my kids should be better than me. Not that I want them to repeat every mistake I made, but the stupidity factor in adolescence is as old as man, so why should my kids not display it. I wish my mom were here to tell me how she felt when I was suspended for cutting PE my senior year and I might one day admit to my kids that I smoked in the bathroom in high school. And as Beth as my witness, I was a "good" kid.
The dumb stuff they have done so far has not left them with a "permanent" record, but it does always surprise me that they are not the perfect beings that I assumed reading to them every night, would make them be.
With my oldest heading off to college, I just hope the mistakes he makes don't require one phone call and that he's not in my basement when he's 40 (which Pat seems to assure me that he won't be)
Thanks for sharing...it really does take a village!
Love your post, Jacquie, and love the comments.
I love the idea/realization that kids have no adult firewalls anymore, that they get full access right at the source. I mean, I *hate* that, but I love the articulation of it; I'd not thought of it like that before.
I also love:
"We've also got to accept the thing that all parents have had to accept, always and forever since the cavemen looked at their spawn with furrowed protruding brow and wondered 'who is this?'"
[Furrowed protruding brow? That's brilliant.]
And I love Pat's comment although I think I was totally magically awesome by the time I was in my 30s. Possibly even my 20s.....
And Beth's comment about always having your kids' backs -- and them always knowing you've always got their backs.
And Mom's astute observation of your having both patience and enthusiasm. *That* is a tricky combo. And my co-bloggers (and sisters and brothers-in-law) all have it in spades (whatever that means).
And Central PA's observation that it really *does* take a village. Although your son *did* tell me on numerous occasions, back in the day, when we lived in his house like vagabonds and Would. Not. Go. Away: "Fly away Aunt Ellie." I wish we lived closer. I wish I could contribute. Because I *know* he'd be into it now.
Because I agree with MB: your kids are great. Will be even better. Are on their way to being magically awesome.
Ellie
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