About two years ago, our longtime optometrist not so delicately informed me that my eyes were getting old. He said by 40, I'd need reading glasses. I doubted him. But he was right.
I remember the moment I knew he was right. I was sitting comfortably on the couch, legs curled up behind me, happily eating yogurt from a cute little single-serve cup. I turned the cup so I could see the nutritional information, not that it mattered, and was shocked to see nothing but a jumbled mess of blurry chicken scratches. I quickly discovered, however, by simply moving the cup a little bit further away, things came quickly into focus.
I knew at some point, the length of my arms wouldn't be enough to remedy the issue. Given that, I broke down, admitted my vision wasn't what it ought to be and got a a pair of reading glasses. Unfortunately, it hasn't just been my eyesight that's been a little out of focus lately.
It's funny how a mom has trouble seeing her kids as anything other than...well, kids. Even though we know they're getting bigger...bigger than us even...we still see them as 'little'. We want to protect them and provide for them, to lead them and guide them. We want to encourage them and inspire them, teach them and shape them. We invest ourselves in them so fully that the line between them and us often gets very blurry indeed.
But our kids come to a place in their own journey where they need the lines to blur just a little less. They start to make their own lives. They make their own friends. Want privacy. Think they know it all. They
have opinions we don't always share. Ideas we don't always understand. Dreams we don't always embrace. They feel their own feelings and think their own thoughts. They have attractions that astound us and preferences that confound us.
And then the moment comes when, like with the writing on my yogurt cup, you just can't quite make them out anymore. So you let them move away a little bit...an overnighter...a boy girl party...a driver's license...prom...college...and boom...your arm can't reach any longer. You stretch as far as you can, but then you just have to let them go. As your fingertips slip off the edge of their childhood, they become...their own.
At first, it's almost devastating. All you see is an empty house filled with painful quietness. You see that you're losing what you had...you're losing who you've been. But then, you begin to see things differently, if you're willing to look through a fresh set of eyes.
You see that all the years of bedtime prayers, loving care and a strong guiding hand have led to a beautiful place. It's a place where little boys become great men and little girls become incredible women. With a change of a prospective, you suddenly begin to see your children as the grown up...competent, capable, productive, insightful, wholly wonderful human beings they were destined to be all along. You see that who they are is exactly who they ought to be.
And the beauty of it is, just about the time they have children of their own, they'll begin to see us with different eyes. They'll understand why, even when we're truly happy for our kids, even when we're genuinely excited for them to spread their wings and fly...we still cry as we watch them grow and our heart still aches as we watch them go.
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
Monday, August 8, 2011
The Score Keeper
My guess is every family has one...the person who appoints him or herself as scorekeeper. This is the person, in my experience most often a middle child, who feels compelled to keep a detailed record of every gift given, every chore assigned and every penny spent on each member of the family. The scorekeeper does not really do this to keep things even. He does this to make sure he gets, at least, his fair share.
I myself have never been an even Steven sort of mom. I've had the philosophy that we should meet each child's needs as they arise, without particular regard for keeping all things equal. After all, just because one boy needed new shoes or jeans or a backpack, didn't mean everyone did. And just because one child might need extra money for something didn't demand I dole out the dough in even shares to everyone else. I figured that over the course of each of their childhoods', it would all even itself out so I didn't have to.
It was basically that same notion that governed the assignment of household chores. I never did stars on a chart or a color-coded calendar detailing each person's daily responsibilities. I admired that kind of organization, I just didn't aspire to it. So we pretty much have always had a 'mind your own stuff and do what mom tells you when she tells you' policy.
This parenting style has served my husband and I well, but for our little scorekeeper, it has been a perpetual source of irritation. You see, the scorekeeper remembers with utter clarity the exact number of times he has taken out the trash in comparison to his brothers. He has made mental notes of the dollars spent by us toward his possessions and activities in proportion to the budget allocated to each of his siblings. He has kept a painstaking record of the ages at which he was permitted to do specific things as opposed to when we are allowing his younger brother to do the same things.
Now, as the face of our family is quickly changing, the scorekeeper of our house has become increasingly disgruntled. With he and "A" being more men than boys, the chasm between them and the 'baby' is ever widening. And while "A" is moving into adulthood seemingly without giving it a thought and the 'baby' is happy with the impending prospect of being an 'only child', the scorekeeper quite openly expresses his displeasure with it all.
Our scorekeeper simply cannot believe how excessive my husband and I have become now that we aren't fully supporting him anymore. He is appalled by the quality and corresponding price tag of the 'baby's' new soccer gear, sure we never would have spent so exorbitantly on him and "A" at that age. He is concerned that the 'baby' is going to end up driving a car far superior to his first one...although he has had two vehicles he didn't pay a penny for. And the kicker is that he was appalled by the amount he is certain we spent on a child-free weekend getaway although he honestly hasn't a clue what it cost nor is it any of his business.
Moreover, he's flabbergasted that we are considering the possibility of taking a second long weekend away later this year to which the 'baby' is likely to be invited, but which he is unlikely to be. Not that we wouldn't want to spend the time with him, but as an adult, he isn't certain to be in a position to get away from his own grown up obligations when our schedule permits.
I have to keep reminding him that times are changing. His father and I have more discretionary money now that we are no longer the sole support for three children. We have more free time too. And while the 'baby' is likely to benefit from his years as the only child in this house, I try to remind the scorekeeper that he and "A" had half a dozen years on the front end of their lives to be lavished with unfettered attention, affection and gifts as they were not only our only children, but they were also the only grandchildren and nephews on either side of the family. Of course, the scorekeeper in him can't help but point out that he doesn't remember most of that while the 'baby' will remember all of this.
I truly hope as the scorekeeper grows up and moves into the role of husband and father himself someday, he will come to care less about what the score was and find satisfaction in how we all played the game.
I myself have never been an even Steven sort of mom. I've had the philosophy that we should meet each child's needs as they arise, without particular regard for keeping all things equal. After all, just because one boy needed new shoes or jeans or a backpack, didn't mean everyone did. And just because one child might need extra money for something didn't demand I dole out the dough in even shares to everyone else. I figured that over the course of each of their childhoods', it would all even itself out so I didn't have to.
It was basically that same notion that governed the assignment of household chores. I never did stars on a chart or a color-coded calendar detailing each person's daily responsibilities. I admired that kind of organization, I just didn't aspire to it. So we pretty much have always had a 'mind your own stuff and do what mom tells you when she tells you' policy.
This parenting style has served my husband and I well, but for our little scorekeeper, it has been a perpetual source of irritation. You see, the scorekeeper remembers with utter clarity the exact number of times he has taken out the trash in comparison to his brothers. He has made mental notes of the dollars spent by us toward his possessions and activities in proportion to the budget allocated to each of his siblings. He has kept a painstaking record of the ages at which he was permitted to do specific things as opposed to when we are allowing his younger brother to do the same things.
Now, as the face of our family is quickly changing, the scorekeeper of our house has become increasingly disgruntled. With he and "A" being more men than boys, the chasm between them and the 'baby' is ever widening. And while "A" is moving into adulthood seemingly without giving it a thought and the 'baby' is happy with the impending prospect of being an 'only child', the scorekeeper quite openly expresses his displeasure with it all.
Our scorekeeper simply cannot believe how excessive my husband and I have become now that we aren't fully supporting him anymore. He is appalled by the quality and corresponding price tag of the 'baby's' new soccer gear, sure we never would have spent so exorbitantly on him and "A" at that age. He is concerned that the 'baby' is going to end up driving a car far superior to his first one...although he has had two vehicles he didn't pay a penny for. And the kicker is that he was appalled by the amount he is certain we spent on a child-free weekend getaway although he honestly hasn't a clue what it cost nor is it any of his business.
Moreover, he's flabbergasted that we are considering the possibility of taking a second long weekend away later this year to which the 'baby' is likely to be invited, but which he is unlikely to be. Not that we wouldn't want to spend the time with him, but as an adult, he isn't certain to be in a position to get away from his own grown up obligations when our schedule permits.
I have to keep reminding him that times are changing. His father and I have more discretionary money now that we are no longer the sole support for three children. We have more free time too. And while the 'baby' is likely to benefit from his years as the only child in this house, I try to remind the scorekeeper that he and "A" had half a dozen years on the front end of their lives to be lavished with unfettered attention, affection and gifts as they were not only our only children, but they were also the only grandchildren and nephews on either side of the family. Of course, the scorekeeper in him can't help but point out that he doesn't remember most of that while the 'baby' will remember all of this.
I truly hope as the scorekeeper grows up and moves into the role of husband and father himself someday, he will come to care less about what the score was and find satisfaction in how we all played the game.
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