It started when my son was just a baby. There I sat;
bleary-eyed, sleep-deprived and somewhat stunned at the mountain of work I had
just made for myself. Among all the comments about how darling he was and how I
should cherish this time and how they grow up so fast was one I won’t ever
forget:
“This isn’t even the hard part.”
That little gem of information came from my friends and
family members who had older children, and the sound of those words reminded me
of one of those horror movies where the girl walks downstairs in the dark with
like a kitchen soup ladle in her hand to ward off the evil demonic presence
below. The audience is screaming at her NOT to go down there, but she’s
completely clueless and goes anyway. You know the rest.
When my precocious son entered the terrible two’s and
three’s (yes, we had at least two blessed years of this), I thought to myself,
“Ah, yes. They were right. That wasn’t the hard part. THIS is the hard part.” To which my
sister and others who were so much more experienced than I replied, “Nope. Not
yet.”
SERIOUSLY????
Seriously. Now I get it. And I’m not even sure if I’m completely
there yet. But now when I see friends or acquaintances frustrated with their
small children it’s almost like I feel the need to condescendingly pat them on
the head and say, “There, there. Don’t stress yourself so much. This isn’t even
the hard part.”
I am in the throes of the teenage years – and I don’t think
we’ve even peaked yet. That will probably come in the months following him
getting his driver’s license. But we’re close, I think. Wondering if he’s
really at where he says he’s at? Check. Finding out that he’s not immune to
peer influence? Check. Talking to those closest to you about how to handle the
situation? Check. Googling what others have done? Check. Tears and more tears?
Check. Sleepless nights? Check. Wondering if you’ve instilled enough values and
morals in your son so he makes good choices and doesn’t completely screw up
what could be an incredibly bright future? Check.
Ironically, the best advice that I have received on how to
attempt to communicate with my teenager has been from my nephew, who has “been
there, done that” and turned himself around to become quite a remarkable young
man with a good head on his shoulders (though he’s still kinda searching, but
hey, who isn’t?)
His mom (my sister), has gone to the ends of the earth and
back for this kid and was in tougher places than I’ve been in over the years.
She has loved unconditionally, agonized perpetually and most importantly, has
never given up on him. That’s not to say that she didn’t let him sink or swim –
which you have to do at some point for their own good. You can’t rescue them
forever or they’ll never learn how to get themselves out of a jam. But that’s
another blog.
While my sister has been instrumental in helping me through
a time in my life that she remembers in hers like it was yesterday, here are
some gems of advice from “the other side” - my 20-something year old nephew whose
words, during the past couple of weeks, have made a great deal of difference in
how I handled a tough teenage issue. He says:
“At his age, he is
forming his beliefs and they are taking solid foundation but not necessarily a
permanent one, so understand that while you may not agree, if you meet him with
resistance and disappointment, it will revive the rebel child mentality. Meet
him with understanding and a desire to educate with both factual and moral
guidance."
So getting mad at him and putting the gauntlet down was not
going to be an option, as much as I felt that it was the “right parenting
choice.” I could rant and rave all I wanted, but all it was really going to do
was make my son even less communicative with me and even more rebellious. Duly
noted and it goes back to my philosophy that if you want to get someone to pick
up what you’re puttin’ down, it’s all in the presentation.
“As much as you may or
may not want to know what he’s doing, you want him to feel that you want to be
involved without judgment. Otherwise you’ll be having reactive conversations
rather than proactive ones."
A reactive versus a proactive conversation. When did he get
so wise? He’s exactly right. Hopefully I’ve instilled in my son enough morals
and values that his conscious is coming into play when he’s faced with the
angel on one shoulder and the devil on the other. My job right now is to
continue to guide and educate; not make charts with stickers for every time he
makes a good choice. However, I did offer this to him: “If you are EVER in a
situation you want to get out of but don’t know how, CALL ME. I will be the bad
guy that ‘makes’ you come home. I will get you out of there so you save face
with your buddies. KNOW THIS.”
“The good news is,
you’re at the heart of the beast. All your years of parenting have trained you
for the next four. Soon he will be a functioning, responsible young adult but
not before you go through a few more years of the hardest stuff yet. The best
advice I can give is help; don’t control. Guide with hard love and trust your
gut.”
So that’s it. The years up until now, as challenging as they
have been, were simply training. So
in essence, it’s been like getting ready for a marathon. I’ve been running a little farther each day –
had setbacks and a few injuries along the way – all in preparation for this
26.2 mile race that will push me to my physical and mental limits and leave me
exhausted but hopefully, incredibly proud and feeling like an accomplished
parent with a son who hopefully feels the same way not far behind.
Until then, I’m still in training. Hard love. Tough love. I
have tried to make that my mantra. I try so diligently to parent with a heart,
yet with somewhat of an iron fist. OK, maybe more like aluminum. But I’ve said
it over and over again - it is not my job to be his buddy. But I also
don’t want to be his adversary. I want to be the one who, when asked about me
later in life says, “My mom was tough on me. She had to be. But thank God she
was. And she loved me fiercely.”
If that is in fact the outcome, “the hard part” – whenever
that ultimately comes – will have been well worth it.