Parenting, specifically mothering, suits me pretty comfortably. It always has. I like constantly being around people. I like being in charge. I am internally motivated. I don't need someone to tell me I'm doing a good job to know I'm doing a good job. I like making a plan and then executing the plan. I'm good at prioritizing what is most important and letting go of the rest. I'm fairly intuitive with my children and have a good understanding of who they are and how I can help them.
So, yeah. That's what I'm feeling good about. But fellow moms, hear me out. I am having hard time cutting the emotional apron strings. No joke, I cried for four months when Clark left on his mission. Numerous times a day. He's been gone for 13 months now and I've pulled myself together admirably. I'm mean, sure, I teared up at the aquarium today when we saw some really cool lizards, but that is to be expected.
Bethany is on the cusp of leaving home. She is halfway through her senior year and IT HURTS MY HEART to think of her leaving. I know it's a good thing. As my wise aunt told me, "Young adults need to leave the house because your house isn't big enough for them to spread their wings."
I believe it. I really do, and I don't really want any of them to stay.
But ouch.
When kids are little and even tweens, parents have so much say in what happens to them. Especially in a home school setting. We spend a lot of time together and really beautiful relationships are forged. Clark was the oldest and was always a little more independent and yet, he regularly shared what was happening in his life and we talked quite a bit. It's a whole new level of relationships with the girls. We are very close and we talk a lot. When they get home, they quickly come find me and talk about their days. When I get home from being away I am anxious to reconnect with them. When Bethany feels stressed about college scholarship essays, I feel stressed for her. When Elinor is frustrated about stagnant swim times, I feel frustrated for her. When they have heartaches, I hurt for them.
I suppose that is part of the "Mom gig". But today it feels very heavy for me. Logically I understand I cannot carry their burdens for them. And I believe the Savior, Jesus Christ, did and does that for all of us. My struggles right now are figuring out how to love them so much but not become emotionally unhinged by their growing pains. How to separated what part I need to let them work through on their own and what parts they need parental love and guidance. I believe personal revelation is necessary, but part of personal revelation is laying the ground work and thinking it through myself first. That is what this blog post is about. I have a lot of anxious thoughts in my mind and this is my attempt to bring some order and try to think through all these feelings.
There are a lot of factors as to why I am struggling with this. My parents were wonderful and I mean absolutely NO disrespect when I compare my upbringing (and Abe's) to our children. I didn't talk to my parents about every little thing. I'm pretty sure that with the exception of some financial aid applications, I handled all my college applications and essays by myself. I moved around a lot because my dad was in the Army and I don't remember EVER being molly coddled when we moved mid-year to a new school. They assumed we could handle ourselves and we did. We had to figure out how the new school worked, how to get involved in an extracurricular, how to manage our school schedule. We wanted a job-- we got one completely by ourselves. It could be argued that these were all good things. It could also be argued that, especially in hindsight, I didn't feel very safe or protected and taken care of. That sounds whiny to me, even as I write it. But I would say there is a whole generation of over protective parents, much like myself, who are desperate to make sure their kids know they are not alone and they are taken care of.
Thankfully, I have a lot of children, so I can't helicopter parent all of my children, but I'm afraid that doesn't stop me from trying to!
I was a sociology major in college. I believe we are strongly influenced by our environment-- the people, the music, the atmosphere around us. In the nature vs. nurture debate, nature makes a strong case, but I come down more on the nurture side. Consequently, I have exerted a great deal of effort in trying to shape the environment of my children. Hello homeschool! I get that not everyone is a fan, and that is okay by me. I am a fan and for the most part have been very pleased with the results thus far in our family. A homeschooling mom intensely feels the weight of her childrens' future successes. If a public schooled child goes off the deep end or clearly doesn't live up to their potential, we can blame the school or blame friends or whatever. But you better believe that fair or not--- the homeschool mom will take the hit if her kid lives in the basement playing video games till they are 30. Is that really fair or reasonable? Of course not. It might not even be true, but that's how she feels. Trust me, I know a lot of homeschool moms.
So another factor is my dilemma I'm working through is it's really hard for to me to just let them be and hope they figure it out. I suppose partly for my own selfish reasons, I want them to not struggle too much. I mean some struggle is necessary and good, but we certainly can make our lives harder through poor choices. So if I can help them make good choices, then I want to help them. The question is, how much help becomes not so helpful. Am I there?
With adults you listen to them share what they are feeling and unless advice is truly solicited, (and even then, proceed with great caution) you don't tell them what to do. You trust that they will come to the decisions that are right for them and that's the end of it. And even if they come to decisions that you are quite certain aren't right for them (or anyone) you just love them and say, "Well, they have to learn it in their own way." But as parents we have a stewardship for our children. They aren't adults-- they are children or teenagers-- whose brains are not fully developed. They are getting there, but there is a reason we don't let fourteen year-olds votes. So, no, I'm not comfortable saying to or about a teenager, "Well, they just have to figure it out."
I mean, what you would encourage a 13 year-old to figure out on her own is a far cry from what you would expect a 17 year- old to maneuver. So it's a process. I am admitting here, that it is an uncomfortable process for me. I was uncomfortable with Clark. It's uncomfortable with Bethany. And it's already uncomfortable with Elinor who will shortly turn 16. I am certain I err on the side of holding the reins too tightly. I suppose with more experience it will get easier. Perhaps by the time Peter and Greta are 17 and 15 I'll be so chill that I'll err on the other side. Wouldn't that be interesting.
In the meantime, I'm not afraid of the hard work or the heartache that come with bearing their burdens. With God's help, I can handle that. I'm afraid of doing wrong by my children. I'm afraid of damaging our relationships by making them either too dependent on me or too anxious to pull away from me. I'm concerned that my overzealous efforts to help them be the best they can be, I may actually stunt their growth and development.
So, there you have it-- my parenting issue I'm working through. Interestingly, this is a variation on a theme I've struggled with since my kids were super little. So while I do believe I'll get this sorted out in my mind or at least make peace with it, I'm sure the same issue will present itself in another form a few years down the road.
Thanks for listening.
