Parenting is a lot like going to school. You show up every day and every day there are new challenges to be met, new things to learn. But there are no books or manuals - you learn by doing and by screwing up, and then by doing it right the next time (or the time after that). There are pop quizzes and there are, most definitely, tests. And right about the time your child graduates from high school, you realize you are right there with them - graduating from 18 years of parenting.
Parenting is hard...single parenting is even harder. For the first several years of my boys' lives, we were without a lot of support from a father or husband, as he was in the Navy and living on an aircraft carrier for a good portion of our lives. I worked full-time and had two small boys that I was trying to raise in a town where I knew no one and had no family support. I wasn't always cheerful, I wasn't always kind, I was a terrible cook and I had a short fuse - I was very young, very inexperienced, and very scared. I went from being a daughter, a sister and a girlfriend to being a wife, a mother and a full-time employee in a matter of 24 months. Sounds like I just rattled off my list of excuses, but my point is, I was no June Cleaver, but I loved my kids...and still do.
I have tried to teach my kids the basics of life - to share, to be kind, to stick up for themselves and what they believe in, to be true to themselves, to be honest, to tell the truth. I've tried to be consistent in my parenting no matter the situation - married, divorced, single, dating or remarried.
I have also tried to discipline with a rememberance that I was once young and did dumb things, made bad choices and suffered consequences. Not that I want to the be the "cool" mom or my kids' friend (I am sure they have enough of those), but I have tried to weigh the crime and the consequence and I have to tried to keep my cool and treat them with respect. Self-esteem is big on my list of qualities a person needs and I want my kids to have it, so I try to discipline in a way that lets them walk away with their self-esteem in tact.
I've tried to support and encourage my children in whatever activities or talents they have pursued. I remember growing up and playing sports and not having a lot of parental support or involvement. I remember that awful feeling of looking up in the stands after scoring a basket and not having my mom or dad there; so I vowed to always be there to cheer my kids on, no matter what personal sacrifices I had to make to do so. So while they probably get sick and tired of me yelling and cheering from the baseball bleachers or the football sidelines, I've been there. I can count on one hand how many games I've missed in 14 years of soccer, baseball and football.
My friends, my co-workers, my parents often comment that they don't know how I do it. Honestly, I feel like I don't have any choice...these are my children and they are young only for a short time. I want to be there for them, I want to cheer for them, I want to encourage and support them because I want them to know how important they are to me. As I've always said, "Actions speak louder than words." If I die tomorrow, I want them to be able to look back and KNOW that they are not only the most important people in my life....they are my life.
And so, here is my oldest, ready to leave the nest and start off on his own journey and here I am second-guessing myself and the job I've done. Have I taught him well? Will he remember what I've tried to instill in him? How will the negatives in his life, namely the divorce, affect his future relationships? What paths will he choose in his life?
As the mother of a high school graduate I've wistfully reflected on the past 18 years (where did it go?!) and I sit here with the bitter taste of disappointment on my tongue.
Why the disappointment?
It seems like overnight he has changed. He is no longer a boy, but a man; he is no longer loving and kind, but distant and full of attitude; he is no longer grateful or appreciative, but selfish and entitled; he is no longer present, but always on the go; he is no longer affectionate, but cold and pushes away. Don't get me wrong, he is a great person - a good student, an awesome athlete, a good friend; he is polite, he is likeable, he has sa great sense of humor, he has a great work ethic and gives 100% at everything he does, he is loyal, he is honest...he is himself. And I am so proud he is my son.
But it is bittersweet; the severing of the "apron strings" is a heartbreaker as a mother. I am disappointed we can't seem to get along, that the growing up causes fighting, angst and unhappiness between us. I'm disappointed because there are days that I feel there is no love, no appreciation, no understanding of sacrifices that have been made. I am disappointed because I remember the day they laid that baby boy in my arms and thinking, "I am NOT going to screw this up." This wasn't how I envisioned it all playing out in my head...or my heart.
I guess I am most disappointed because I feel like, on graduation day, I didn't get an A. Oh, I passed, but not with the grade I would have liked, not the grade that I hoped for and worked for.
It takes me back to a conversation I had with my own mother and perhaps her own feelings of failure because I never went to college. I remember staring down at this newborn baby laying in my arms and nothing in the world meant more to me at that moment than that precious gift. Several days later I wrote my mom a letter and told her that I was sorry that I had disappointed her and let her down; made her feel like all her work was for naught.
I am older and wiser now (ha!) and the wisdom that I have is from the lessons and experiences I have had over my lifetime; most of which have come from my sweet children. I have learned things from them that no school or college could ever teach me and I've been able to apply them to my life and to the lives of others in the form of advice.
I want my mom to know, today, that if I had to trade a college degree for what I have, I wouldn't make that trade. I have four beautiful, smart, funny, talented children who remind me every day who I am and what I was meant to be and that is worth more than a piece of paper that I could have hanging framed on a wall saying that I sat through 4-6 years of classes.
I have, instead, a lifetime of memories - of a small hand brushing my face as if committing it to memory, of giggles and pillow fights and wrestling with my boys. Of fun times, of sad times, of scary times, of pulling together, of pulling apart, of pain and of joy. The things that life is made of.
I have learned that my success is not defined by my home, what kind of car I drive, the number of degrees that I hold or how much money I make each year. My success is fully dependent on the quality of relationships that I have in my life and, more importantly, that my kids are happy, responsible, obedient and confident; that they learn to follow their inner voice for what is right in their lives, regardless of what the world around them tells them to do.
So while I may not have gotten the grade I felt I deserved, I know it was still a good grade. Fortunately, I get to try again and maybe I'll get it right the next time.
~alicia
LINEN CLOSET: 
CUPBOARD ABOVE OVENS: 
So that's it for today....now I have to do today's challenge, which is the coat closet - oh yay! Another troublesome spot for me!
