I read a blog this morning on Facebook that inspired me to write this next piece. It was about how hard it is to parent older children. You know, the ones who can feed, dress and go to the bathroom on their own? About 15 years ago if someone would've told me how long these creatures would sleep eventually, and how they would sit quietly FOR HOURS in their rooms entertaining themselves in a few years , I would've wanted to teleport myself ahead to that blissful sounding time in my life just for the peace and quiet ! I was always thinking this would get easier. I was not entirely wrong. Physical demands have gotten a bit easier, and no one needs me to wipe their bottoms anymore so that's a huge win. There is , however, so much more emotional stress and doubt that comes with the parenting of these older , "easier" children. I am not really prepared for it, and find myself looking wistfully at the screaming toddler in Target thinking " if that's the worst thing he does today, you are blessed".
My children are 17, 14 and 11. Each comes with his or her own challenges , and their own terrific qualities as well. The 17 year old , who I love more than I ever imagined I could love another person, is constantly a source of worry. This age brings a whole slew of nerve wracking experiences to the parenting table. There's driving alone , driving with friends and driving far distances . Those things have single handedly increased my blood pressure and frequency to which I must color my hair. Unfortunately, the driving is the easiest thing I have to face with that child. There's choices he must make, knowing when to intervene and when to let him make the choices (even when they are the wrong ones..this happens A LOT). There's seeing him not get what he wants, even though he has worked for it. That's the hardest part, because when they were babies they had little to no disappointments ever. Mom could fix everything and I did. Now, not only can I not fix things(mostly because I don't know how), but I have to let him have disappointments because it's part of life and shapes him as a person. I worry every single day about him , and if he winds up going away to college I cannot imagine that worry just dissipating because he is no longer under my roof. Oh joy, I get to worry in absencia..
The 14 year old worries me because she is a girl. There I said it. I have a double standard , and I don't care who knows it. She cannot date until 15 years old (by 15 my son already had several girlfriends ) and even then it should be in a group . If that group has to be me and her father then so be it. She has always been very headstrong , so parenting her as a toddler was not much different than now. Except she was little and I could just pick her up and divert her attention. Also parenting a girl is way different than a boy. I want to say harder , but that's not entirely true. For a mom, it's actually like parenting yourself at that age. That is not fun in any sense of the word. I was a headstrong , mouthy, too smart for my own good bitch. You know what they say about the apple not falling far from the tree, right? I cry everyday in some way, shape or form about the job I am doing with her. I feel like it's not good enough, she deserves so much that I feel I can not always give her. I didn't feel like that when I was being a mom to a sweet red-headed baby, I could give her everything she needed. Now, I have to curb that to teach her she must earn things, work for them or figure out a way to do things herself. That will help her be a strong woman, one who is ready for the World. There is not a doubt in my mind that in 4 years she's packing up and going far away to college, mostly because she tells me this EVERYDAY. But I believe her , because it's exactly what I did..
Now, the 11 year old. My baby, my surprise, the one I wasn't sure would be a good idea but turned out to be the best thing I have ever been given. He is very different from his siblings. Different in a good way , for the most part. He's a little immature , innocent and still enjoys the role of the "baby" . My other two were born mature. This one is still 7 years old in my mind. He is now in middle school, which I still have to remind myself on a daily basis. He is getting taller, lankier and even a bit more independent. I look at him and I see my older son at that age , and I want to cry because I know how very, very fast this all goes. Maybe that's why I have such a hard time letting this one go. I am now facing middle school party invitations, messages from little girls who want to talk to my baby, and him asking to ride his longboard to CVS... all these scenarios have been met with my pat answer to him "You're a little young for that, buddy". And off he goes , still okay with that answer, but I know the clock is ticking. Tick tock, time to defy Mommy. It's coming, and this child doing it to me is going to be the real one/two punch. He was the most patient, sweet baby who never gave me a minute's trouble. I wonder if my luck will run out on that as I parent him in this next phase of life? I often talk about how he is a C student, just happy to get by in life, content to stay home and play video games or watch TV. The more I think about that, the more I realize that may not be so bad. From a parenting standpoint , he's low maintenance. After the other two , that may be just what I need...
Every passing year brings more revelations as a mother. The early years you learn exactly what your body is capable of and how much you can actually love a person . You also learn that everything is not about YOU. The ensuing years are like a roller coaster , you're up, up and up , then there is the free fall period before you are on the straightaway again. I see the parenting of the older children as 70% free fall, 30% up and up. Maybe after they leave , and become the people they are supposed to I'll be on the straightaway. But for now I'll just enjoy the ride.
