License to dream

As you have probably detected through "blog vibes," this season of teenage parenting that we are hitting "head on" has been painful for me thus far, and we are only in the preliminaries. In all honesty, we really haven't left the starting line yet. Scary, isn't it? I really don't know how I am going to make it. It seems every day I am faced with a new challenge, a new thing to accept, a new thing to fret, a new thing I don't want to say hello to, and the loss of a comforting, familiar thing I don't want to say goodbye to. Just yesterday, while leaving the Kroger parking lot, Faith was asking me about Driver's Ed and how old you have to be to take it. My hands lightly held at "10 and 2" on the steering wheel, I answered the question without much clenching of the stomach. "In Ohio, I think you have to be 15," I told her. "Good," she boasted proudly, "only 2 more years until I get my "temps." (Side note: We called it a permit back in HS. That was Illinois circa 1985...no pronouncing the "s" on the end, please. I don't know why the name "permit"changes geographically.)

I handled all that pretty well....tried not to let it bother me...really no need to "cross that bridge" at this time. But today, on the way home from school, she tells me, "I can't stop thinking about what my first car will look like. I think I would like a red bug with black dots on it.....like a ladybug. And then, I think I would like personalized plates. That way, everyone will know it is me when they pass me on the road. How much do those cost anyway, Momma?" Hands gripping firmly at "10 and 2" this time, almost robotically, I tell her how much I think they cost. I cannot go there in my mind. I have been stretched by just the little sampling I have already had of "teenager-dom." I want to beg her to "lighten up...take it slow...have mercy on me." But I know she wouldn't understand. She is excited as she envisions her adventures of independence....while I am feeling just the opposite. We could not be going in more diverging directions even if we tried.

Many, many times I have thought back to my own teenage years since Gregg and I recently planted our toes squarely at the starting line of "teenager-dom." Besides constantly feeling like I owe my mom a huge apology, I recall with great clarity how much I looked forward to and talked about my future freedoms when I was a teen. I remember longing to get my driver's license, longing to go off to college, longing to marry Gregg. Never once did I consider how these longings might be effecting my mom. I only saw her as a "dream halter"....especially when she told me I could drive down the cald-e-sac and back the first day I got my license. (Sorry mom, that one still stings a little. :) )

One of the great frustrations of parenting has got to be how long it takes your child to truly understand why you did what you did, and how long it takes not to be recognized as "the bad guy." Father, help me. I have so long to wait. I'll be pushing 60 by the time "awareness" sets in. Oh...the agony!!!!

**Mom, although Hallmark could say it better, I hope you find something in this post that points to the fact that above all, I thank you for being you....and for always being you....even when I still had a 2 am curfew at 22 years old. :) Seriously though, I love you! HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY!!