What Don't I Know?
"You believe in me, but I don't think you really know," my teenage daughter insisted as I rounded the corner on our street. I burst out laughing, "What an awesome quote. I love it!" She honestly had my attention with 'You believe in me'. Thank God, I've done something right I thought to myself, relishing my brief success as a parent before pausing terrified...hmmm, what don't I know? Admit nothing, ask questions later; I spied another CIA skill worthy of parenthood.
Usually she's like a tall shot of espresso in the morning before coffee has prepared me for teenage drama. With enormous social media pressures, teenagers have a full-time job keeping up with Snapchat, Instagram, etc., in order to stay relevant before the school day even begins. Throw in the pressure of scheduling activities, hair, clothing, makeup, acne, an unfortunate glance from her brother, a coat she can't find, and our breakfast table is a chaotic board meeting daily, before she runs out the door late to catch the city bus on time. Goddamn, I'm wide-awake, without a sip of coffee, feeling as if I just ran a marathon!
"What, there's no bananas? Mom you know I need bananas in oatmeal before my cross-country meet." She scolded me last week before racing out the door in a panic. What the heck are these I rescued from rot last week? A picture saved me a thousand words.
I don't have to be right; I just have to be present. I find that's what it takes as a parent, along with Teflon courage impenetrable by teenage button pushing. The teen outbursts are rarely about me, but rather a fear of failure and lack of life experience. That's not to say my Teflon hasn't suffered holes on occasion as I find myself outnumbered with four children.
Relinquishing control my mother insists on maintaining well into my 40s, I vowed be a better listener as a parent. I value my children's opinions, expect them to rise to challenges, and celebrate their efforts. So far they share friend gossip, text and talk to me daily, which is why I inquired later that night, "What do you think I don't really know?"
Imagining the worst, drinking, drugs, sex, what could it be that I don't know? I wasn't born yesterday and was aware of the endless possibilities. Bracing myself for the fallout, she said, "I don't think you really know if I'm a good runner mom!" Absorbing the words and enormous sense of relief as a parent, there was no need to argue, or convince her otherwise. She was right.
"I believe in you. Knock 10 seconds off your time!" was all I recall saying, breathing a sigh of relief she was simply anxious about her cross-country race. "Oh mom, you'll just be disappointed then if I don't PR again," she sighed exasperated. Well aware the conversation was not about me but a losing battle that would cost years of therapy later in life, I retreated to my bedroom to read alone, recharging my Teflon resolve for another day.
The next day my girl shattered her personal record by a full minute on the cross-country course. Tears streaming down my face, I ran to her embrace at the finish line. "I'm so proud of your hard work never giving up the pace of the fast runners. What a finish. I knew you could do it!" I whispered in her ear, hoping she wouldn't find my salty tears too embarrassing. "Remember this feeling of success. You've earned it and will again," I reminded her, "with a college application or job interview."
"I'm so proud of myself," she exclaimed. Her words were arguably the greatest outcome achieved at the District finals. Truth is she was right, I didn't know what her time would be or ultimately what she was capable of. In all honesty, she exceeded my expectations because I let her know I had them and she rose to the challenge. It was her race to win, not mine.
Parenting is exhausting I thought this morning, wide awake as my daughter headed out the door her hair on fire worried about the Halloween party tomorrow. Ten minutes later she was texting me on the bus about a boy. Hmmm... What don't I know? I'll be sure to find out! Our parenting days may be long but our years are short to enjoy and reflect on the memories.
Usually she's like a tall shot of espresso in the morning before coffee has prepared me for teenage drama. With enormous social media pressures, teenagers have a full-time job keeping up with Snapchat, Instagram, etc., in order to stay relevant before the school day even begins. Throw in the pressure of scheduling activities, hair, clothing, makeup, acne, an unfortunate glance from her brother, a coat she can't find, and our breakfast table is a chaotic board meeting daily, before she runs out the door late to catch the city bus on time. Goddamn, I'm wide-awake, without a sip of coffee, feeling as if I just ran a marathon!
"What, there's no bananas? Mom you know I need bananas in oatmeal before my cross-country meet." She scolded me last week before racing out the door in a panic. What the heck are these I rescued from rot last week? A picture saved me a thousand words.
I don't have to be right; I just have to be present. I find that's what it takes as a parent, along with Teflon courage impenetrable by teenage button pushing. The teen outbursts are rarely about me, but rather a fear of failure and lack of life experience. That's not to say my Teflon hasn't suffered holes on occasion as I find myself outnumbered with four children.
Relinquishing control my mother insists on maintaining well into my 40s, I vowed be a better listener as a parent. I value my children's opinions, expect them to rise to challenges, and celebrate their efforts. So far they share friend gossip, text and talk to me daily, which is why I inquired later that night, "What do you think I don't really know?"
Imagining the worst, drinking, drugs, sex, what could it be that I don't know? I wasn't born yesterday and was aware of the endless possibilities. Bracing myself for the fallout, she said, "I don't think you really know if I'm a good runner mom!" Absorbing the words and enormous sense of relief as a parent, there was no need to argue, or convince her otherwise. She was right.
"I believe in you. Knock 10 seconds off your time!" was all I recall saying, breathing a sigh of relief she was simply anxious about her cross-country race. "Oh mom, you'll just be disappointed then if I don't PR again," she sighed exasperated. Well aware the conversation was not about me but a losing battle that would cost years of therapy later in life, I retreated to my bedroom to read alone, recharging my Teflon resolve for another day.
The next day my girl shattered her personal record by a full minute on the cross-country course. Tears streaming down my face, I ran to her embrace at the finish line. "I'm so proud of your hard work never giving up the pace of the fast runners. What a finish. I knew you could do it!" I whispered in her ear, hoping she wouldn't find my salty tears too embarrassing. "Remember this feeling of success. You've earned it and will again," I reminded her, "with a college application or job interview."
"I'm so proud of myself," she exclaimed. Her words were arguably the greatest outcome achieved at the District finals. Truth is she was right, I didn't know what her time would be or ultimately what she was capable of. In all honesty, she exceeded my expectations because I let her know I had them and she rose to the challenge. It was her race to win, not mine.
Parenting is exhausting I thought this morning, wide awake as my daughter headed out the door her hair on fire worried about the Halloween party tomorrow. Ten minutes later she was texting me on the bus about a boy. Hmmm... What don't I know? I'll be sure to find out! Our parenting days may be long but our years are short to enjoy and reflect on the memories.
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