Tears For Their Choices

Have you ever cried about the choices your child has made? When they are little, it can be when they hit another kid, were rude to an adult or stole from the grocery store. (Both mine were guilty of this before age 4.)

That’s not what I’m talking about today. I’m talking beyond the snotty junior high friend, the rebellious attitude that lasted semesters, and family disrespect.

I’m talking about the reality that your legal adult has appeared to let all your earnest teaching roll off their back like a duck. Everything you have sacrificed and done appears to make no difference in their life choices. Now it truly matters who they befriend and what they put into their minds and bodies and they are doing most of it where you can’t see, much less supervise.

It’s like your hands are tied as you silently scream in horror that the baby you once held in your arms and so carefully parented all this time is disappearing into someone you do not recognize… much less approve of… or even like.

Why don’t they seem to care about their family? Why do their friends plan for college or get jobs and your child is content with part time success? Don’t they notice the glaring gap between NASA and McDonalds? And bleep-it why don’t they see how good they’ve had it and how much they are turning away from?

Certain milestones should be occasions for celebration, but the balloons might look slightly deflated depending on what it took emotionally for you pull that off.

If this resonates with you, you probably know more than most parents how precious and fleeting your years of influence truly are. And, just because all the other kids look like they are following a decent life plan doesn’t mean they will continue, or even know what they are doing. It just looks good and more importantly, it just isn’t what your child is choosing.

Right now I am aching for a family who is launching their young adult into his first apartment – and not for happy reasons. Their child crossed the final line and was told to live somewhere else. I applaud their tough decision – way more difficult that selling a car out from under them! These parents honored their rules and words, and loved their kid enough to be firm in a big way.

I believe one day he will come to appreciate their care and investment, and respect them. I have seen others who tumble into adulthood and shake all the wrinkles out a few years later. I pray that this is another one like that, and in the meantime – that the parents have peace.

"You Need to Clean Your Room"

If you are like me, when your baby is born you color-coordinate, style and arrange every detail in their room. You spend hours evaluating the shade of a possible color purchase and make sure that everything is model-home appealing. Right down to placing great-aunt so & so's tea cups on a shelf. Toys are not set on shelves, they are displayed as if ready to be photographed. Everything looks wonderful!

Yep, that works for a few years...

Until you listen to your kids' ideas and they begin to express themselves, not merely echo your direction.

I'm glad the room in this picture was not a permanent fixture in our home until our girl was in 10th grade. Before that, she had maintained our standards of cleanliness with much angst on all our parts. I had read parenting books, listened to talk radio gurus and friends. All had their opinion regarding how a child's room should be kept.

There was the "you do not go anywhere until your room is cleaned up by noon on Saturday" philosophy. That's when I used to wake up early and leave the house - and my husband - to monitor her cleaning process. It was agony before, during and after and we got a clean room for the afternoon.

There was the "you don't get a door on your room because it is such a slop pile" philosophy. We removed the door to her room and thought that would do it. After all, she had a toddler brother who would now have access to her treasures, including her beloved American Girl dolls. This did not do it, either.

There were many more attempts at "encouraging" room maintenance well before 10th grade. Her allowance was even tied into room condition, but that's another topic. We did sticker charts, laminated signs and white glove inspections to no avail.

So... when I took this picture, I was smiling. Clean clothes were blended with dirty ones strewn all over the floor. Dresser drawers and closet doors were ajar. Clutter and water bottles (not shown) were everywhere. And why make the bed? It certainly was not a room I could find solitude in, much less fall asleep. But guess who comfortably plopped on her messy bed, kicked off a towel or other item and snuggled up to do her homework?

Why could I smile? I had finally stopped listening to other people's "should list" and relaxed my colon. So what if my girl kept her room so messy? That was our only issue with her. If a crappy room was the worst thing she did, so be it. I decided to save my nagging breath in spite of frowns from friends, some of whom did not even have children. We discovered this new magical rule called "keep your door shut". It worked perfectly! We didn't see it and the rest of the house was "Zen". A small price to pay for a kid who grew up to be a great woman who manages her own life, huh?