There's a schedule mapped out in Google Docs now, just like the summers before. But the kids are older and wiser (than me) now. I'm still struggling between giving them choices while also giving them responsibilities - giving them freedoom while also encouraging them to do something more than sit with a controller in their hands all day.
This is the constant struggle of being a parent - especially the parent of teenagers. I want to guide them, not push them. But I have to create boundaries. I do.
Sometimes I look back at the baby pictures and long for the simple parenting acts of those days: nursing, changing diapers, reading books, singing songs. None of those acts were exciting or cool, but I felt confident in them. I long for the simplicity of knowing that I am doing exactly what I should as a parent.
With the complexity of parenting young adults comes a new kind of delight: sharing jokes, making plans and talking smack about the latest conspiracy theories. All of these moments reveal brains that have developed far past the basic infantile thoughts of food and comfort - brains that have experienced and learned things completely separate from my motherly influence.
When I feel the tug tug tug of rebellion, the straining to abolish my boundaries, the wild anxiety that manifests as anger every time I hold fast to the sureness of my decrees, can I picture those brains? The brains that are still developing. The brains that will build connections based on my reaction, for better or worse.
I can try. I can pray. That's about all I can do.
— Jesus once was a little child,
A little child like me;
And he was pure and meek and mild,
As a little child should be.
So, little children,
Let’s you and I
Try to be like him,
Try, try, try.
