 (Photo Credit: tigerlily713 on Pixabay) Just a few short years ago, I found myself somewhere in the middle of a long bridge between childhood and adolescence. I was longingly looking back towards the childhood side yet hopeful as I moved apprehensively towards the adolescence side. Well, it appears my bridge was an express bridge. Here I am; on the other side. You know what’s here? Cell phones, mustaches, adam’s apples, deep booming voices, attitudes, challenges to limits, and boys who suddenly stand at eye level to me. You know what else is here? Meaningful conversations, random tight hugs, trust, and young men who are mostly kind and learn from their mistakes. Surprisingly, it’s sort of nice over here; albeit a bit smelly and messy. On this side of the bridge, I am the parent of a young man, not a young boy, and I get to start taking a step back to let him take some risks on his own. One of the first big events on this side of the bridge has happened over the past few months without me really being able to comprehend it’s weight. My son is already heading towards the end of his first year of middle school and lately the words of his new principal echo in my head – there are only 540 days of middle school. 540 In some areas of our life, 540 seems like a lot.
But, when we are talking about time in middle school, 540 days is nothing. It’s half the length of time he spent from Kindergarten through 5th grade (1080 school days for math dorks like myself). That period of time went by in the blink of an eye. Surely this chunk of 540 days are going to fly by even quicker! So, how do we, as new middle school parents, survive these 540 days? Well, I know how I spent the days leading up to Day 1 — letting the middle school version of me find her way to the surface. I color coded binders, folders and schedules, circled rooms on maps, plotted out the best way to organize a backpack, role played some scenarios, and had a nightmare that I was him and I couldn’t find my math class on Day 1. I just wanted his middle school experience to not be awful like my own. But, then I stopped myself. (Because, seriously, a nightmare??) Adolescence is messy and painful. It’s supposed to be awkward. It’s supposed to be emotional. It’s supposed to be challenging. Some days are supposed to feel awful. And, aren’t middle school and adolescence synonymous? Like most challenging, uncomfortable, and unpleasant things in life, when we look back on them later, we can see the good they brought to our lives. They are the catalytic events and change agents that shape our lives. Although I would never want to relive my own 540 days, I do see how they helped to shape me into who I am today. I see how some of the people I still care deeply for today are friends I made during those 540 days. I can see that in those 540 days were where many of my interests were born. My 540 days were certainly not filled with unicorns and rainbows and butterflies, but maybe I should be thankful that they weren’t. When my middle schooler faces the typical struggles of middle school, I have to tell the middle school version of myself to settle down. I know many of his 540 days will be filled with some tough decisions, hurt feelings, hard lessons, and uncomfortable moments. I know there will be lots of times where he feels just as I did during my 540 days. His 540 days will not be filled with unicorns and rainbows and butterflies. So, how am I going to navigate my own 540 day journey as a parent? I am going to realize that in many ways the parental journey of 540 days mirrors the student’s journey. These 540 days will be challenging for me as a parent. If adolescence is awkward and painful, so too is parenting an adolescent. For parents, many of our 540 days will also be filled with some tough decisions, hurt feelings, hard lessons, and uncomfortable moments. It has been suggested that the most influential people in a teen’s life are not his teachers, coaches, parents, or professional athletes. It turns out that for many teens, their peers are the most influential presence. Middle schoolers need each other. I suspect that this holds true for middle school parents as well. Parents need other parents. My plan for surviving these 540 school days is simple: lean on my peers, be kind when mistakes are made, learn lessons where they can be learned and remember that this time is going to fly by. While I am not in any rush, I look forward to seeing who we all are on Day 540.
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 Today my high schooler needed a ride to football practice.
There used to be a time not so long ago when I would have to arrange a ride for him with a mom of one of his friends, annoyingly verifying it at least three times with the mom, and then reminding my son what time he was getting picked up, what to bring, and to make sure he said thank you. Today he arranged the ride himself with a friend, got himself ready, and went to practice. I wasn’t needed anymore. There used to be a time not so long ago when I would go to those practices, my camping chair and bag full of snacks regular staples in my trunk. The other parents and I would sit for 2 hours every day watching our boys’ struggles and admiring their growth. Today he went to practice without parents and with coaches I’ve never personally met. I wasn’t needed anymore. There used to be a time not so long ago when I would roll my eyes and sigh loudly as I made my way through our house after a practice, helping stray socks find their way to the hamper and stinky shoulder pads to the drying rack. Today those stinky pads got put where they belong, without me having to help. I wasn’t needed anymore. There used to be a time not so long ago when that same high schooler was a shy little boy, stepping onto the field for the first time - timid, lacking confidence, scared, and so very excited. Today that little boy stepped onto the field for probably the 1,000th time - a young man, confident, brave, and so very excited to tackle the world on his own. I wasn’t needed anymore. There used to be a time not so long ago when this mama couldn’t imagine a time when she wasn’t needed. Today that mama knows that she will always be needed in someway - maybe not for rides or picking up socks or support at practice - but surely for other ways. A mother’s love will always be needed.  Photo by PhotoMIX-Company on Pixabay On Christmas Eve a 15 year tradition came to an end. It was the first Christmas Eve without an official believer in our house.
But, we still did all the typical Christmas things. We still hid away all the presents. We still talked about Santa coming to bring gifts. We still made oatmeal chocolate chip cookies, referred to as “Santa’s cookies” even if we make them in July. We still waited until Christmas Eve to take the gifts from their hiding spaces and place them beneath the tree. Much of this year was the same - but it was also very different. My youngest asked if he could watch us to see how we do it all. He sat, wide eyed on the couch, as my husband and I worked like the amazing team we are - having done this for 15 years now. Soon the questions started: “How much did this all cost?” “How long did it take you to wrap everything?” “You really wrap everything in the stockings???” “Is it hard to do all this?” “How are you able to do this so fast?” Then he helped me as I put out cookies and milk for Santa and, for the first time ever, our youngest got to enjoy the treats. My heart ached through it all though. I miss those tiny versions of my boys as they would run outside to sprinkle reindeer food in the lawn, their voices squealing with delight. I miss those days and there is a profound sadness in realizing that chapter of our family’s journey has ended. But, this new chapter is truly special too. This new Christmas is different. But, this new Christmas is still filled with joy, wonder, and love. It’s still magical. It’s still Christmas.  In a family of six COUSINS, my youngest was suddenly the only one other than the six-year- old who didn’t know the truth.
It was time for us to tell him. We posed the question about whether or not he believed and he shot us both his infamous side-eye and flashed his double-dimpled grin. Clearly he already knew. But, behind his mischievous smile was a hint of fear and sadness. Originally published on Filter Free Parents. Click HERE for full article. Somehow I'm Raising That Kid That Doesn't Care What People Think, And I Want To Be Like Him12/1/2020  The first parent-teacher conferences of the year happened this week and man did I get schooled.
As a mother of a 15-year-old and a 12-year-old, I’ve been to more parent-teacher conferences than I can easily count. But, as each one approaches, the part of myself that I consider a recovering perfectionist starts to creep to the surface. Originally published on Filter Free Parents. Click HERE for full article.  This morning I was struck with a deep sense of gratitude. As I meandered my way down the hallway in the early morning hours to wake my high schooler for the day, I smiled at the calmness that now fills my home.
In a normal year, our mornings would be a complete frenzy of activity. Total chaos would rule our day from the moment the 5:00AM alarm on my phone rang until we all finally crawled into our beds at the end of the day. It would be a race against the clock as we scurried around the house each morning trying to get everything done in time for us to leave for the day. Originally published on Grown and Flown. Click HERE to read full article.  Picture it: You are at a sporting event. All around you, there are sounds of swearing, fans shouting insults at coaches, and people arguing with each other. The air is filled with tension. People are yelling things like:
“Are you kidding me?” “Use your head!” “What is WRONG with you?” “What do you know? You shouldn’t even be an ump!” “We don’t have all day — make a play!” Just another day at any professional sporting event right? Nope. This is another day at a youth sporting event. Any city. Any town. Any sport. Any age. Originally published on Her View From Home. Click HERE to read full article.  Yesterday I got to relearn slopes and angles so I could effectively support my 9th grader in geometry. Then I got to develop a tracking system that would work for my 6th grader to help him better manage the sometimes too subtle details of his class assignments. Later I got to help with a story map and reviewing point of view vs. perspective.
It is a luxury, for sure, to be able to spend this time with my children without having to worry about working at the exact same moment. In my younger days, I actually taught 6th grade math and study skills for middle schoolers. I loved my time as a teacher so this should be my jam. It’s not. I love being their mom but I hate being their teacher. Originally published on Her View From Home. Click HERE to read full article.  Before I became a parent, I assumed parenting was hard.
Then I had my first baby and quickly realized that parenting is way harder than I ever could have imagined. When my baby became a toddler with his own big personality, an inhuman-like ability to slither like a snake out of my arms when he didn’t want to be carried, and a deep commitment to throwing massive tantrums, I realized that parenting had somehow become even more challenging. Fast forward to today and I find myself facing the hardest phase yet of parenting: parenting a high schooler. With just a short bit of time so far under his belt as a high school freshman, I find myself more confused than ever when it comes to how to parent my son. Originally published on Grown and Flown. Click HERE to read the full article.  It’s time for me to pivot to a different type of parenting with a more capable teen. (Twenty20 @JJFarquitectos) This is often a time of year when I feel so completely alive as a mother – clear in how I am valued and where I am needed. It also is a time of when I feel stressed, overwhelmed, and alone — the weight of a successful start to the new school year resting solely on my shoulders.
Today that weight was lifted and I am equal parts relieved, heartbroken, and proud. Originally published on Grown and Flown. Click HERE to read the full article. |
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