I am most happiest in the morning. The slotted rays of fall sunshine came through my blinds and I smiled. And within thirty minutes I had to tell my son he was behaving like an a$$.
I’m just tired, he told me as he entered my vehicle; as we pulled-out of our driveway. He is not a morning person and took out his frustrations on the one who will take it unconditionally; me. I would normally rant or nag about how the new, fancy alarm clock STILL does not wake this son. We live close enough to his high school that he could walk and be late.
When he yelled at me to leave him alone, I told him I would. I had quietly waited for 9 AM to run my bank errand in my car, in the garage.
It’s tough, this whole letting go thing. I don’t want him to fail but fail he must do. I hate having access to my sons’ grades on the portal, receiving text reminders from the various teachers (seven in all between three different schools AND an elementary school principal). I want them to be accountable for their own lives and not have mommy watch their back and micromanage them. Technology has many advantages. But I’m also realizing, this may not be one of them for me. It’s information overload. Yet I can’t NOT look, at the online grades. I like having the access but am unsure how to take the information. I heard the middle son tell his friend online, We know when our Mom sees our grades online by the tone in her voice. I do this every one to two weeks.
On the short drive to the high school my radio was low and I quietly sifted through my thoughts. As I sat the the traffic light to turn into the parking lot I said the words I wanted to say in a quiet voice. I reminded him of his friends who had to wake early for an 8 AM SAT today. These friends who will then join his eight hour practice after 12 PM and will finish at 5 PM Then, these same friends will quickly go home, change and head to the annual Homecoming dance and won’t arrive home until the wee morning hours. These friends carry a heavy academic load, on top of it. These friends are in sports, outside service clubs and performance groups. And these friends are probably more tired than he is. Welcome to life, kid.
Yesterday my son shared that one day of the week his band period will be a study period; for kids to catch-up. I heard the mom tell the story of the girl who broke down, who couldn’t figure out how to balance her life with a rigorous academic load, extra-curriculars and a life. Correction: they have no life.
Is this what is becoming of our kids today? And what will they become as adults? Our kids, they feel the pressure.
I read books like, The Smartest Kids in the World: And How They Got That Way, Where You Go Is Not Who You’ll Be: An Antidote to the College Admission Mania, Excellent Sheep: The Miseducation of the American Elite and the Way to a Meaningful Life, The Organized Mind: Thinking Straight in the Age of Information Overload, Hands Free Mama: A Guide to Putting Down the Phone, Burning the To-Do List, and Letting Go of Perfection to Grasp What Really Matters!, How to Raise an Adult: Break Free of the Overparenting Trap and Prepare Your Kid for Success. Overkill, I know. It is currently the stage I reside in as a parent and I immerse myself in information, hoping it will help me cope.
I appreciate the educators who put the kids first. The ones that don’t purposely make their classes harder to get into; to remember to give our children the gift of learning, just because and to actually teach them something versus teaching to the test.
These days our kids fight for multiple advanced placement courses, and fill every waking moment with admirable pursuits. They are members of the local hospital student advisory board, work tireless community service hours to log in their time for college application resumes or, tutor peers; constantly giving of their time and talents. But what about themselves? When do they ever have the time to fill their own cups, to have time to think their own thoughts and discover their own dreams?
These are luxuries that do not fit into their current lives; escaping into the online worlds of PC gaming and social media sites. The streets are empty in my neighborhood. Kids are on traveling sports teams, after school programs like dance, debate, prep courses or in service organizations. They arrive home to complete their homework and crash on the couch at 1 AM.
Reality check. Am I not just like this son? The mom who works full-time, who fills her weeknights and free Fridays with other volunteer pursuits? The time arrived when I crashed and burned and swore to my hubs I would never put myself in that situation again. Yet here I am, once again, involved in many “extracurriculars.” But the thing I learned was NOW, I choose the things and pursuits I enjoy and advocate for. I don’t do these things to build my “college resume” with awards or titles. I am learning new things, meeting new people and expanding my points of view. The extrovert in me loves having a purpose outside of myself; to grow.
But, as adults, we encounter the same things our teens do; in the workplace, in service organizations, in life. Adult cliques, politics, those who do and those who don’t, those who want the glory. There is always an alpha and followers and varying points of view. It shouldn’t always be about personal gain.
We need to find the balance in all things that we do and remind ourselves why we do them.
I set aside the project that has been occupying my time these past two weeks; hours lost in creativity. I guiltily glanced at the ten year old’s sneakers, the ones that are falling apart. When the younger two sons reminded me that I promised to take them shopping I put my project away and went. It IS my responsibility to make sure my family is fed, clothed and housed. I dedicated the rest of my weekend to those endeavors busily chopping and dicing, laundry and house cleaning. The sons followed suit and contributed with their chores; house cleaning a communal effort. I need to practice what I preach and find my balance.
I shared an (Advanced Placement) AP article with my son. I told him to find what he loves and to just do it. It isn’t my job to coordinate his activities and his life. It is my job to make sure he is responsible, advocates his views and allow him to discover who he is; away from me. I can’t carry the weight of the world for him. I must let him feel the weight of it and carry it for himself. I continue to learn to slowly ease up on the reins and let go…
Carry on my wayward son(s).