Scare after Scare

What scares you? What scares your child?

My kids are well past the ages of monsters under the bed or the house creaking during the night scaring them. What scares them is age appropriate — an upcoming test, if someone will return their interest or affection, and some is the same as mine — seeing what’s going on with our politics 😞

My youngest is typically happy-go-lucky. Not that he’s happy all the time, but mostly you’ll see him with a sunny disposition (particularly appreciated in the often overcast climate we live in). My son has taken a keen interest in politics in recent years, and we’ve had many discussions post-election on how to not get too overwhelmed with everything that will come. Easier said than done, right? We’ve tried to encourage picking our battles. It can be tough when so many people are hurting from unexpected job loss, financial struggles or insecurity, food prices going up, the economy unstable, healthcare bring impacted, the environment being jeopardized, immigrants fearing deportation, and on and on.

As a parent, I feel like my job is to try to rise above it (e.g., not let my emotions allow me to fully say everything I think and feel to my child and add to their worry or angst), but to listen, empathize, and remind them we’ll get through this. It’s tough when you, yourself, have no clue how you’re going to get thru it because you don’t know exactly when the madness will end and how bad it’ll get beforehand.

My youngest texted his father and I while he was at school to let us know he wasn’t having a good mental health day. He does not normally talk in these terms, so we knew something had to have happened to cause him to text us this. It turned out he’d heard that a law was going to be overturned by the Supreme Court which upset him. After my husband and I had an exchange with him. We all determined there was no case before the court and nothing to indicate the law would change. It was a relief, but still made me sad that my teen had anxiety because of those that seem more interested in power and money, than what’s best for all, and an internet algorithm putting the misleading news article at the top of my son’s feed.

I believe many of us parents are struggling during this time. We want to model good behavior, teach our kids what’s right and wrong, and hard to counter this when our leaders appear to be acting badly with little we can do.

I told my son, there will be moments where we’re going to need to make our voices heard, but reminded him he is not alone, we are here for him —whether he just needs an ear to listen and empathize or if we need to march in a protest or something else. That’s where I can help my son.

How do you support your child when they are anxious?

Time to Fly

What time(s) have been hard for you to let your kid go? For me, those times included:

• First day of daycare — leaving him in someone else’s care

• First time with a babysitter

• First day of school (kindergarten, elementary school, middle and high school)

• First time spending the night away from home

• First time traveling by himself

• First time driving by himself

And now, the biggest shift, is my son living away from home for the first time. My oldest isn’t far, but we’ve encouraged him to treat this opportunity to live on his own as a growing experience — him understanding what he’s capable of, him learning more about himself and how he wants to show up in the world, and gaining confidence around his growing independence — and that means, living away from us, problem solving on his own, and working through any discomfort he is experiencing (new place and people).

The moments leading up to him being officially moved out were peppered with excitement for him and worry, and second guessing for me (he’s going to be okay? We’ve prepared him for this, right?). How has 18 years gone so quickly? The years race through my mind every time I think about it.

We were fortunate to be given a booklet to help my husband, I and our son adjust to the change, as we move from “parenting” to coach, and supporter. The booklet had us discuss values (my son and my husband and mine), with the goal of giving all of us clarity on what our son’s values are and how, by knowing this, we can better support him. It also had us talk through expectations and ensure we’d discussed everything from what we expected (or didn’t) of him from his behavior, accomplishments, drugs, alcohol, and sex. I so wish my parents had had this information at their fingertips when I first was on my own.

My hope is that we’ve provided (or are providing) our boys roots with wings. During a final hug at the train station, I told my son, “you’ve got this.” It was important for him to know we believe in him. He knows he can do it too, but like anytime you make a sizable change you can feel a little unsteady. Allowing yourself to adjust to the change is often the toughest (and should I say ‘scariest’) part.

I have to adjust now too, to allowing my oldest to fly, make his own choices and mistakes, and not jump in to problem solve for or ‘save’ him. This moment is bittersweet. If I did my job as a parent he’ll figure out how to soar. I have to mourn the end of this part of our parenting journey, and adjust to what comes next.

What parenting phase are you in? How do you adjust to new phases as they arise?

Parental Support

Who has helped you through your parenting journey?

We are fortunate to live in a part of the country that has a structured program called Program for Early Parenthood Support (PEPS). It brings together parents with newborns that are close in age (1-3 months, typically). We were able to join a group when our oldest was born.

The support we received from the official PEPS program (which, at the time, ran 12 weeks), with a moderator, topics, sometimes guest/expert speakers, and families (including babies) meeting once a week in each other’s home was invaluable. Following the program most of the parents in our group wanted to keep meeting. Just getting together, knowing we weren’t alone, having others to bounce questions, challenges, and fears set the foundation for a strong community.

Our oldests are seniors in high school now with graduation just around the corner. It’s bittersweet to realize how much time has gone by. The slowness of the early years, the angst of sending them off to school, puberty hitting, teen angst, and now coming into their own.

When we first started meeting, post program, everyone attended. We talked about the kids, because — for the most part — they were too young to know what we were talking about or in another room playing games. As they got older some of the kids connected, others didn’t. The kids would come, but you knew they’d probably rather be somewhere else. 😊 When the kids reached middle school we started to let them decide if they wanted to join us or not. The connection of this group was more meaningful to us parents, because we wanted (needed?) to talk about the kids and struggles we faced, joys we were experiencing, or things that surprised us (my kid is capable of that?!).

None of us know what our kids will eventually end up doing, where they’ll live, etc.. We know just because they are now “adults” we won’t have a say, but hopefully modeled getting support to thrive in tough environments (not sure many environments tougher than parenting). We still very much want to stay connected with this community. We’ve been through so much together.

Parental support is what gets you through the tough times and lets you know you’re not only, and you’ll figure it out. It’s those people — family, friends, doctors, teachers, coaches, mentors, that help us get through the journey together.

Who supports you and your family? Who do you support in return?

Thank You, Supporters

It takes a village to raise a kid. It takes special folks in that village to help your child excel — be exposed to opportunities outside of your area of influence, knowledge, or experience; get a recommendation or be a reference to help your child get where they want to go (school, job, camp, etc.); give them a different view of who they are and what they can offer the world.

My youngest submitted for a summer camp that aligns with his passion in transit. We knew it would be a competitive process when we saw the paperwork (it was similar to applying to college minus having to send your grades and transcript). He had to submit three references in his application. He reached out to three adults who have been influential in his life — a past teacher, a present teacher, and a community leader in transit. He reached out to ask these folks to be references — a bit nervous and uncomfortable in the ask (understandable when you haven’t done this before and afraid you might be burdening someone). He was a bit more comfortable after his dad and I shared that most people want to help other people and most likely these folks would gladly support him, which they did (thank you!!!).

My son had to wait several months to get notified if he’d been accepted. We learned during the parent interview process (yes, this camp is that thorough) that 40 applicants had submitted and they only had room for 20. While good odds (50-50), it upped the anxiety knowing half the kids, who were likely eager to attend this camp might not get to go (including possibly mine). ☹️

The wait ended when our youngest ran out of his room shouting, “I’ve been accepted!” It’s rare you get to see your child so happy. The first thing we discussed was thanking his teachers, and the community leader that supported him as an applicant. I have no doubt their input made the difference.

Who makes up your kid’s village? Who are those supporters you are grateful for?

Chrysalis

At what age did you emerge from your childhood cocoon?

My oldest is a senior and thinking about where life will take him next. He’s starting to get a taste of having more freedom and understanding that he ultimately controls where and what he does next. While he’s still living at home, he has a safe, protected, and supportive environment to make mistakes and learn from them.

As I think about his upbringing I can see clear lines between him as a small child and the adult he is becoming. Then there is this gray period inbetween the two where he is leaving one phase of life and preparing for another. In this “cocoon”-phase he could be distant, and hard to understand, but you knew what was inside him needed to be protected and nourished and so you let the cocoon be — not leaving it alone, but understanding (or trying to) how growing up can be hard and scary sometimes. It can also be joyful and comforting, and so much more.

It feels like my oldest is starting to emerge from his cocoon with a more open disposition. He’s more likely to talk, engage, and is in general happier. Is it because he’s understanding he will figure out his next stage of life? He’s appreciating the love and support while making the transition? Or something else?

Only he knows, but it’s amazing to see this new phase and him taking flight.

What phase of life is your child in? How are you helping them transition from one phase to another?

The Parent Trap

Who has been sucked into volunteering in support of your child’s school, sports, or activity?

I use the words ‘sucked in’ because most volunteer work I have been done has been based guilt (the other parents can’t always go everything, I’m being selfish if I don’t give freely of my time, etc.), vs. being passionate about the cause — the one exception was my youngest’s middle school that was a start-up and beyond unbelievable (like winning the golden ticket for my son’s education). I think of this as the parent trap. Any one else gotten sucked in?

I have had to re-establish boundaries periodically. Saying “no” when asked and allowing myself to sit with the guilt. It always feels good to volunteer and support others, but the time commitment (planning, night/weekend events, etc.), and stress of the planning and execution of the events are the detractors for me. Does the feeling afterwards of helping offset the stress leading up to? Most time the answer is “maybe,” yet I (you/we?) volunteer. I most recently made the mistake of showing up early to a showcase my son was participating in. A mom came over, introduced herself, shared how she led volunteer coordination (I knew the ask was coming, and braced myself for it). She then sat down (okay, I thought, she’s not going anywhere until I agree to something, I’m going to have to negotiate). I didn’t want to outright own a responsibility. I was okay co-chairing, but would prefer the work be split by three. We discussed and I reluctantly (darn you guilt) agreed.

I remind myself my youngest has three more years in high school, so volunteering in this capacity has a time limit. I may even miss it when these opportunities no longer present themselves (though I’m sure they’ll be replaced by others). If I’m being honest with myself, nah, I won’t miss it, I’ll be relieved. Am I the most selfish person ever? Ah, the guilt. It can feel like a never ending trap.

How do you view volunteering? How do you offset any guilt you feel?

Top Dad

I’m fortunate to have a father who was engaged, loving, fair, and supportive growing up. He was my model for all other men in my life.

My boys have a father who is engaged (even more so than my father was), loving, fair, and supportive growing up. I’m so thankful we found each other and our boys have such a great dad.

Fathers are ‘tops’ in my book when they embrace the role and give it their all. Not always easy to do (but whoever said parenting was easy?). 🥰

To all the Top Dads out their — thank you for all you do. Happy Father’s Day!

Don’t Sell Yourself Short

What value do you offer the world?

A bold question and one many of us would probably answer meagerly. I’m not sure many of us think in terms of the value we offer to others, let alone the world.

We were invited to ring in the New Year (east coast New Year’s because none of us can stay up that late 😂) with a group of parents we’ve known since our kids were born. Two of the families teen/tween children joined us. Our kids didn’t, but wish they had.

It was fun getting the kids to talk and share with us — what gifts they got, how school was going, driving, and what colleges they were thinking about (for the older ones). The kids have typically opted out of getting together when we gather, because, well, they’re kids, and at their age it often feels like they’d rather do anything else than hang out with us (their annoying, boring, basic parents). I get it.

We moved on to have dinner and again, the kids surprised me by being willing to eat with the adults and not off at their own separate table. Great conversation continued. We talked about weather, school, the news (we had a great discussion on drugs and the dangers and the kids were educating us!), and then one parent asked for each person to share a highlight from 2022, and something they’re looking forward to in 2023.

The kids really engaged and talked about their highlights – making new friends, adjusting to a new school; and things they were looking forward to – trips/family vacations, and the Taylor Swift concert (how did they ever get tickets?). 😊

We moved on to other areas of interest and gaming and online play came up. As a parent gaming can sometimes feel like a blessing (something fun that occupies their time), and a curse (will they ever stop playing that games?). We (the parents) wanted to hear firsthand from the kids their take on this — what games they play, what’s good about gaming, what isn’t, etc. One of the older boys (16) shared how he’d gotten into monetizing gaming. His parents seemed surprised so we all had questions — what was he doing, how did it work, how was he getting new business, etc.. He shared his interest in designing and figured out how to make gaming skins and logos for different players. He was doing this work at a low cost with no actual money being traded (other players would pay him by putting money into a game (for extended time, lives, tools/weapons/ etc.) so there was value), but nothing that would ever show up in his bank account.

I saw how he downplayed his work, that it was ‘just a hobby’ and thought he wasn’t that good. I had questions — how many people had he done work for? Approximately 100 was his answer. Was he getting repeat customers? He was. His work clearly had value, and while his community was small, he was doing good work. I shared this with him and shared with him that I thought he might be minimizing the good work he was doing. I could see I made him uncomfortable but assured him that feeling this way by what I’d just said was normal. “We aren’t often told we offer things of value. We think ‘why would anyone want this?’ Or ‘there’s many others out there much better than I am at this.’” And while there might be others out there that are more experienced it doesn’t take away from what you have to offer. I finished by saying, “Being humble is a good trait, but don’t do it to your detriment. Don’t sell yourself short. Even as adults we do this. Whether it’s creating gaming skins and logos for your friends online, or anything else that helps, provides, or supports others has value. I wish someone had told me this when I was younger.” The table was quiet. He gave a nod of acknowledgement. Other parents chimed in supporting him and his efforts, and then we moved onto other things.

In life we too often sell ourselves short. We aren’t anything special, right? Others are better at, smarter than, or more experienced than us, right? Wrong. Others miss out on what value we bring when we minimize our gifts — which can come in the form of knowledge, emotional support, finances, creativity, and beyond.

What value do you bring to the world? How are you helping your child not to sell themselves short?

World’s Best Dad

What are the qualities you’d put on the list to determine the world’s best dad?

If I had to boil it down, for me, the qualities would include — love, support, encourage, teach, show/guide, feed (literally and figuratively), and love, love, love. These qualities are pretty much what I’d say makes up World’s Best Mom too. 😊

Because raising kids is hard, dad’s who lean into parenting are even that much more special.

If you were fortunate enough to have a dad that you’d put on the list for World’s Best Dad, congratulations! You hit the jackpot. I know I did, and my kids have too (whether they realize it yet or not is another question ☺️).

Thanks to all the World’s Best Dads out there! We love and appreciate you for being you. Enjoy your day!

Crossroads

My oldest has asked to play football since he was very young. We were against tackle (due to brain injury concern, and the potential for him being exposed and potentially embracing toxic masculinity), but relented following our son being in flag football for many years, COVID isolating us all, and his need to see his dream through.

His first year, it was a shortened season—only four games, but they won most, and he had fun. The second year was a bit more eye-opening for him. He’d get overly anxious before each game — being unable to eat and/or keep anything down. He’d have no energy during the games (you don’t play optimally when you’re tired), and would be starving. All distractions. Workouts were more intense, but that didn’t bother him—he likes pushing himself to be fitter. His teammates were all over the place. Seniors making the season as if it were life and death, and his peers goofing off half the time. It’s left him questioning ‘do I really want to keep doing this?’

My oldest shared with his father he was considering walking away from the game. My husband was taken aback and needed a few minutes to let it sync in. My husband shared what he’d heard when I got home later that evening. “He said he has an important decision to make here in a few weeks about whether he’ll play football or not next year.” We we’re both caught by surprise. I wanted to talk to my son and see if I could understand more of what was driving this.

Thankfully he was willing to talk. I asked him why his was questioning playing with the team. He had clearly been putting some thought into it as he’d put a pros and cons list together mental which he recited. He shared that he loves the team and preparing for the game (though grueling). He hated how anxious he got, and it not allowing him to perform to his ability. He hated the range of attitudes by the players—overly serious (this is life and death), or immaturity, and some toxic masculinity (let’s hit something, pound chests, etc.). I could see how conflicted he was — loving the game, not loving all the comes with it. He was at a crossroads.

I started by telling him that playing, or not playing, was his decision but wanted to give him some things to consider before making the call. I started by talking about his teammates and the effect the pandemic had (which we all don’t fully understand yet) on younger people. “The seniors were overly serious because they got gypped out of two regular seasons due to the virus. They had a brief taste in the shortened season in the Spring of last year and wanted to see what they were capable of. Regarding your peers, studies have already shown maturity lacking in teen age groups due to the virus. Give tour peers through the summer and I’d guess they’ll act more age-appropriate.” I let that sink in for a minute then continued, “Regarding pre-game nerves. We can get you help with that through the doctor and bring in others like a sports psychologist to give you tools. The coach talked to you already about the leadership potential he sees in you, right?” My son nodded his head. “You have the opportunity to lean into being a leader. You followed last year because you thought that was your place, but you are growing and others see the potential in you. You have the opportunity to lead, people respect and listen to what you have to say.” This seemed to get him thinking based on his facial expression. “The last thing I’d like you to think about is not having regrets. You need to think through would you regret not playing sometime down the road, and if the answer is yes, than reconsider.” I shared a story with him about my own high school sports experience. I’d played on the golf team. The game was mentally taxing. I was good, but not great. I took it seriously, but not life or death. I recall questioning myself each year, but particularly before my senior year if I really wanted to subject myself to all the mental stress again. I ultimately decided I would regret it if I didn’t see it through, and I’m so glad I did. I have great memories, continued to improve my game, and got to be a mentor/roll model to the younger players. It was very satisfying.

My son is at a crossroads. My husband and I can only guide him at this point. I don’t want him making a decision he’ll wish he hadn’t later. As a parent, I feel the need to step back and let him make up his mind, and show that we trust him to make decisions that are right for him. He’s becoming an adult after all and needs to learn how to make ‘big’ decisions he can live with. It’s a bit unsettling as a parent to start letting go, but that’s the only way he’ll grow.

What crossroads has your child faced? How are you helping them make decisions for themselves that they feel good about?