The biggest curse of middle age is not the obvious culprits. The wrinkles, grey hair, and pouchy midsection all suck, that's for sure. Those things are not the worse thing about getting older though, the worse thing goes much deeper than that. The thing that I hate the most about being this age is hindsight. I find myself thinking back on lots of things and realizing how different things could be if only... That line of thinking is destructive, and gets the person nowhere. Yet anyone who has reached this age probably thinks back on things ten times a day. The main reason being : our children. Especially teenage children , who are constantly making decisions and doing things we once did (albeit the 2.0 version). We watch and we know what they SHOULD do, because we did not do what we SHOULD'VE done. We want to spare them the use of the all too often coined phrase "hindsight is 20/20". No one spared us though, they did not even try, or did they?
Let me give you all a good example of this. As a high school senior I earned an academic scholarship to a private school in North Carolina. It was in the town I was living in, therefore I would live at home. I began my Freshman year there , and did okay. It was a lovely campus , the kind I dream of sending my children to (especially tuition free). Well, In the meantime I met a guy ( never mind that he is now my husband of 22 years) and I left my full scholarship to the prestigious private college and transferred to USF to be near him. Goodbye fully paid tuition, hello out of state tuition. I honestly do not know how my parents did not kill me. Or at the very least say No, I couldn't go. They had to be shaking their heads, thinking don't do this. You only get one shot at all of this. Yet they let me go. Now, I am a parent about the same age they were when faced with these" letting me make my own decisions "moments. My son recently made a decision as well. A change of schools, of majors and basically life choices. The older, wiser me with a penchant for dreaming of what could've been , had to let him do it. Is it easy? NO . Do I probably know better what is good for him? YES. But it's ultimately his life. These decisions shape who we are. I have no doubt that his middle age years will lead to a lot of "look backs" and hindsight moments. Everybody's does , I guess. Good things came out of my hasty decision to leave my original college, things like a solid marriage and a fairly blessed life. In fact, if my parents had used their hindsight to try and sway me they would not have had their 3 grandchildren. They must have bit holes in their tongues, like I have. My tongue resembles a piece of swiss cheese since the arrival of the teen years in my house (x3 by the way).
So, when I am asked for advice by my children I will give it . I will tell them my mistakes, regrets and things that I wish I would've done differently. I won't make my life theirs though. They will get the chance to earn the right to say, with wistfulness ,"hindsight is 20/20"... I mean , otherwise all we have to show for middle age is the wrinkles, grey hair and mushy abs.
Wednesday, June 15, 2016
Monday, February 1, 2016
From Mikey to Michael
A few days ago , Mikey asked me if we could go to the mall. I was very preoccupied with his sister's new found head injury courtesy of cheerleading and his brother's bronchitis that was lingering a little too long. In classic third child fashion he said "never mind, we can go tomorrow." I breathed a sigh of relief, because I literally had no time to squeeze a trip to the mall into my day. Later on , I began to think about how Mikey so easily backed down. Almost like he realized his importance in the big scheme of things, predestined by birth order , and by no fault of his own. I felt very disgusted with myself . Of all my children, Mikey is the sweetest. He , out of everyone else who lives here, deserves to go the mall the most. Now I wanted to know why he wanted to go the mall, why the kid who never asks for anything , felt the need to ask to go the mall.
Turns out he ripped a pair of pants that he had gotten for Christmas, and wanted a new pair. Sounds reasonable, right? Sure, but up until now Mikey would've just WORE the pants and not even cared. This desire for the replacement pants is more than just a need for new clothing , it is a sign. A sign that my baby is becoming a teenager and now cares about his appearance.
This hit me like the proverbial ton of bricks. My little boy , the one I can still count on to hug me for no reason, fight about taking a shower , still watch SpongeBob and eat cereal after school was soon going to be one of THEM. And I have enough of THEM around here. I want a little boy. But I know this is not possible, the stopping of time is an impossibility , if it wasn't no one would ever have teenagers in the first place. Mikey is at that" in between " . He wants cool clothes, shoes and hair. He wants to fit in. He's even recently started asking when is he getting braces, because kids are starting to notice his "jacked up teeth". It has been happening for a while now, but I have been turning the other cheek to it. Playing the ostrich mom, if I hide from it maybe it won't happen. However, when I take a look at my son, I see the metamorphosis beginning. Long arms and legs that almost appear awkward right now , a face taking on more bone structure and losing that softness that I love to kiss goodnight. A growth spurt is eminent , and so is the desire for freedom. Freedom from being the "baby" and longing to try new things. This is something I know I cannot stop. With the other two children, I didn't feel so melancholy about it. Zach needed to grow up, so I could handle the other two . Sophie was born 15 , so her becoming a teenager was barely noticeable . Mikey, however, has been my connection to still having a "little one" and that was coming to an end. This clearly is more about me clinging to something , than Mikey becoming a teenager . It is about my journey through motherhood coming to a crossroads. I will have three young adults , who need me less from a physical aspect but more from an emotional one. I will have one more child who is almost a grown up , one more child whose voice will deepen , who will have tormented days as he tries to figure out who he is and who he wants to be. And I will go through it with him, just as I am going through it with his brother and sister. But even though he will be a teenager and start acting like someone I don't recognize , all I will see when I look at him is that blue eyed, good natured baby who never fussed or complained about anything. That's what will get me through Mikey's journey to Michael.
Turns out he ripped a pair of pants that he had gotten for Christmas, and wanted a new pair. Sounds reasonable, right? Sure, but up until now Mikey would've just WORE the pants and not even cared. This desire for the replacement pants is more than just a need for new clothing , it is a sign. A sign that my baby is becoming a teenager and now cares about his appearance.
This hit me like the proverbial ton of bricks. My little boy , the one I can still count on to hug me for no reason, fight about taking a shower , still watch SpongeBob and eat cereal after school was soon going to be one of THEM. And I have enough of THEM around here. I want a little boy. But I know this is not possible, the stopping of time is an impossibility , if it wasn't no one would ever have teenagers in the first place. Mikey is at that" in between " . He wants cool clothes, shoes and hair. He wants to fit in. He's even recently started asking when is he getting braces, because kids are starting to notice his "jacked up teeth". It has been happening for a while now, but I have been turning the other cheek to it. Playing the ostrich mom, if I hide from it maybe it won't happen. However, when I take a look at my son, I see the metamorphosis beginning. Long arms and legs that almost appear awkward right now , a face taking on more bone structure and losing that softness that I love to kiss goodnight. A growth spurt is eminent , and so is the desire for freedom. Freedom from being the "baby" and longing to try new things. This is something I know I cannot stop. With the other two children, I didn't feel so melancholy about it. Zach needed to grow up, so I could handle the other two . Sophie was born 15 , so her becoming a teenager was barely noticeable . Mikey, however, has been my connection to still having a "little one" and that was coming to an end. This clearly is more about me clinging to something , than Mikey becoming a teenager . It is about my journey through motherhood coming to a crossroads. I will have three young adults , who need me less from a physical aspect but more from an emotional one. I will have one more child who is almost a grown up , one more child whose voice will deepen , who will have tormented days as he tries to figure out who he is and who he wants to be. And I will go through it with him, just as I am going through it with his brother and sister. But even though he will be a teenager and start acting like someone I don't recognize , all I will see when I look at him is that blue eyed, good natured baby who never fussed or complained about anything. That's what will get me through Mikey's journey to Michael.
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