As a mom you consider it a priority to inculcate good manners in your children. You pound in (gently, of course) the value of saying please and thank you, excuse me, how can I help, I’m sorry — all those lovely phrases that you have your children start parroting as soon as they can talk. And then as they get older you hear them say these magical words with true feeling and apply them to real life situations. You give yourself a pat on the back, while another part of you marvels at the idea that your children actually have been listening to you all these years.##M:[more]##
And then sometimes, your children will apply their own interesting twist on the situation. To illustrate, I give you the example of our firstborn, just home from her first year away at college. I have to hand it to her for the creativity and foresight to apologize in advance for a transgression not yet committed, certainly taking the art of manners to a new extreme.
Her apology went something like this: “I know I’ll be shoveling my stuff out into the hallway and my room will be messy. I’ll probably be getting up late a lot and then hanging out late with my friends and until I get a paying summer job I’ll be asking you for money. So I just want to say sorry to you and dad in advance.” She nailed right on the head the fears that most parents of a returning college student should have about how much their child has changed and how that metamorphosis will rock the family dynamic.
It has been said that your job as a parent is to give your child roots and wings. You’re good on the roots part. The question is how far have those wings taken them? And at what point is it your responsibility to clip those wings if they have gotten too big for the little birdie? Life away from home, especially in the first year, is all about establishing independence and making important decisions. It is about applying lessons learned on time management and prioritization.
It is your duty to step back and let them make their mistakes (as painful as they may be for them and for you.) You have to trust that you have taught your children well and that out in the real world, they will remember those lessons and act responsibly.
From what I have heard from other parents of returning “warriors” from the academic field, that first summer home is challenging in so many ways. It is that push me pull you that you always have with teenagers, but more intense because they’ve been out of the family nest and out from under your nose. I realized that with stunning clarity when Katie announced one night this week that she was going to pick up two friends in Princeton to see a 10:30 p.m. movie at MarketFair. She still had not turned in the two papers she came home to finish and was supposed to E-mail to her professors the next day.
As gently as possible, I questioned the wisdom of going out before the papers were in. Of course, I got a look and an explanation that all the heavy lifting was indeed finished, she had been working hard all day, and all she had to do was a final proof read and then she would send the papers the next morning.
I considered my options. Take away her car keys? Freeze her ATM account? Ground her? I realized any of those would be counterproductive and harmful to the overall relationship. So I let her go, reasoning that if she were at school, that’s what she would be doing anyway. It’s going to be a very interesting summer around our house, especially with the second one coming home in two weeks with her own set of learned independent behaviors. If anyone would like to buy tickets for ringside seats, I can arrange it.
But in all seriousness, each time your children enter a new major life phase, you have to recalibrate your relationship and consider new rules. It won’t be easy, but nothing good ever is. And then, on the flip side, there are those moments of motherhood that just warm the cockles of your heart. For Mother’s Day I put my husband and children on notice that I did not want a single material gift. Too much stuff gives me a headache. I asked each of my kids to write me a poem. You may recall that I recently wrote about seeing more of myself in my mother with each passing year. Now, it turns out, the same thing is happening with my own child. Here’s a part of Molly’s poem:
I love my mom for her quirks, but mostly because
They remind me of myself. She loves KFC and solitaire,
And she calls those her only vices, but the list drags on.
She is like me because when it is cold in the winter,
And we are grocery shopping because we like to do that together,
We will run through the parking lot like madwomen,
Because who cares? I secretly think it’s funny when
She dances to the music playing in the store we’re in,
And in the comfort of our own home, I’ll dance with her too.
Seems the apple does not fall far from the tree. I hope everyone had a happy and blessed Mother’s Day!
