In the rushing and busyness of life we miss the moments to make the greatest impressions. At 3 in the afternoon I’m frantically scurrying to get beds made that are still askew from morning slumber. I glance at my watch, feeling pressured—30 minutes until the girls are picking me up. FINALLY, I’m in a season of being “Invited.” I was uninvited for so long, and I don’t want to mess up my chance. Trying to gauge what outfit is casual, but dressy. I want to look nice, but not try too hard. Ugh! The pressure!
The teenager is prepping for work departure, and we both scuttle around a shared bathroom. The hot mess mom that I am constantly needs her fashion counsel, but in a total role reversal, I ignore her advice and wear what is comfy. As we bump and dance around each other, she casually mentions a decision she has made—a decision she put great thought into, and in all the rushing my brain does not process the weight of her words. I missed “the moment” because I was focused on me.
She needed my affirming words. She needed to hear reassurance, but I simply bolted out the door at the sight of my ride. I jump into my girlfriend’s Excursion, excited to head to girls night out for sushi bar and worship concert. My brain is befuzzled, which as I type this, I learn that befuzzled is not really a word, but it’s my word now. I guess I mean bumfuzzled?
I’m bumfuzzled because even if my brain was processing correctly, what exactly was the “correct” response? I honestly have no clue. The decision showed maturity and responsibility, yet it also means she’s definitely “little” no longer. Kids don’t come with a handbook; well, I guess there is What to Expect When You’re Expecting*, and even a toddler years version, but where are the instructions on how to handle parenting the adult child? How does one perfectly navigate the waters of setting boundaries, and letting go, and giving freedom, but still holding tight? I need help. Does anyone out there really know? Anyone? I guess I find comfort in the realization that no woman I know of has ever died from raising a teenager. And, if you know of someone, zip it! I need to maintain this reality.
It’s just so hard and so bumfuzzling? As I ride in the back gazing out the window, I feel like a vulnerable child inside. I’m so scared of messing this parenting gig up, and yet is there any other assignment more important? As three other ladies, whom I am quickly growing to love, chatter and fellowship amongst themselves, I am so thankful for the time to look out the back window and process the past half hour. The teenager felt safe enough to talk to me, even though my response was off. I’m thankful for resilience, forgiveness and do-overs and opportunities to go sit on her bed and tell her I’m proud of her. I’m thankful I’m learning to not be so hard on myself; I’m learning to recognize the victories. Two years ago, I lacked the acumen and intuitiveness to discern the oldest needed more from me in that particular moment.
Parenting, and all relationships really, are a beautiful dance of growth and maturation, and my favorite parenting moments are when I’m able to recognize emotions, joys, disappointments, and desires that never ebbed over lips to create sound waves. But, this hot mess momma knows.
I am SEEING with new eyes, and the joy that comes with this growth is a treasure. So, today as she rushed through her chores and asked me to finish them for her, I smiled and took pleasure in her asking because I realize at this time next year, I will no longer have the privilege of being asked. So, even though I am stumbling through this NEW season of being a parent to an adult, I will cherish every request, every conversation, and every opportunity, and I will forgive myself when I fail. I will be confident of the Lord’s promise in Philippians 1:6 that “he who began a good work in her will carry it on to completion.”
I will find joy in the journey of each day and see the small moments as gifts from above. Maybe your infant won’t sleep or your toddler is throwing fits. Maybe your kindergartener just stopped hugging you at school. The next season comes too quickly, so whatever parenting stage you’re in on your journey, bask in the ordinary, everyday moments and give thanks. And, don’t be too hard on yourself along the way.
*Eisenberg, Arlene. What To Expect When You’Re Expecting. New York :Workman Pub., 1991. Print.
I am a grandmother who is consulted on parenting questions by my sons who are in their mid to late 40s. It is a joy to still feel needed; just as I needed my Mom for advice and support. You are doing a wonderful job as a mother to children of three different stages of life. I love watching and enjoying your interactions. Keep doing the wonderful job you have been doing…giving them a Christ centered life, direction and suggestions, and abundant love.