That title was a joke. There is no such thing as being "done" with parenting. But I'm in a season now that sort of feels like it.
Last weekend, my oldest child graduated from college. She's actively seeking a job (career!) now.
My middle child has recently begun a full time job in his chosen career field. And he LOVES it.
My youngest is graduating high school at the end of the month and then getting married a couple weeks later before beginning college in the fall.
In every practical sense, this Mom gig of mine is done. I mean, I've gotten them from my uterus to adulthood successfully. (Of course, my husband was here, too, so I wasn't doing this alone.) But the thing is, from the outside looking in, by the world's standards, when a kid reaches 18, our parenting job is done. Side note: I laugh hysterically every time I hear that information presented because I think I've done more 'parenting' since my kids have reached adulthood than I ever did before. But put that aside for a minute and allow me a few moments to tell you a little something about parenting. And please don't shoot me if you're a mama of little ones who feels like you'll die before you make it to bedtime tonight. (I promise, you'll make it.)
These grown-up children of mine were infants about 5 minutes ago. I sincerely don't even know how this happened. I still think of myself as a young mom of three babies. I have such in-depth, vivid, fond memories of those years when they were little. I was a stay at home mom so I was there for literally everything 24 hours a day. I mean, a lot of that is scattered with exhaustion and crying (theirs and mine), giggles, messes and tantrums, and yet more exhaustion. But gosh those memories are strong.
However, everything since then has FLOWN by at rocket speed. It's like once they hit school age and I went back to work, the monotony of every day life took over and the years passed so quickly. I forget that I'm in my forties until I look at my auto insurance bill or check out the effects of gravity and aging in a mirror. I know that we've all heard old grandmas say it for years, but it's so true: Don't blink... it is over so fast! Our kids' childhoods are fleeting.
Savannah, I remember:
Tiny clothes on hangers. Picture books in the bedroom floor. Drowsy viewings (over and over) of The Lion King ("the kitty movie"). Eye muscle surgeries. Defiance and obstinance. Adorable, tiny, thick, pink glasses. Winnie the Pooh, Arthur, Rugrats.
Samuel, I remember: Tiny blue outfits. Toy trucks and strewn tissues from full boxes of Kleenex.
Easy naptimes. Early morning cartoons and workout videos. Ear tubes. Laughter and jokes. Lucky Luke, Rescue Heroes, Bob the Builder.
And Sarah, with you I remember: Teeny pink dresses and blankets. Hand me down books and toys. Big hair bows. Ear tubes and allergies. Sneaking Easter baskets into closets and whole packages of gum under the kitchen table. Dora the Explorer, Clifford, Rolie Polie Olie.
And then it happened....
Band instruments, braces, puberty, "the talk", driver's ed, first jobs, first cars, boyfriends and girlfriends, formal dances, football games, bonfires, pep rallies, UIL competitions, power lifting meets, school clubs, college applications, scholarship applications, college visits, college registration.
And somehow, here we are. Nearly 23 years since this mama gig began, the biggest part of my job is done. It's been a good run. I feel like I've done okay. In fact, I think I've done a pretty damn good job.
I did the math. There are 936 weeks from the time your child is born until they turn 18.
That means I've had 936 Sundays to take the kids to church, 936 Mondays to launch them into new weeks and attempt to push them to face it with a positive light. 936 Tuesdays, Wednesdays, Thursdays to love them and encourage them. 936 Fridays to celebrate surviving another week. 936 Saturdays to rest and relax and do something fun with them.
I'm sure I haven't always been so positive, encouraging and uplifting, but I pray that the good outweighs all the screwing up, yelling, arguing, occasionally over-parenting and fussing. I pray they walk into adulthood with more good memories than bad. I'm fairly sure they will.
I hope they remember snuggling in mom and dad's bed any night they needed us.
Designing, cutting & painting Pinewood Derby cars.
Camping trips, campfire building lessons, archery and target shooting.
Dance classes & recitals.
Gymnastics classes.
Swim classes.
Watching mom doze off at the theater while watching "Up" (and a hundred other movies & TV shows at home.)
Summer reading programs---at the library and at home.
Summer chore lists.
Attending Awana, Missionettes, Royal Rangers, and VBS.
A trip to Disneyland and our friend's Bar Mitzvah.
Road trips.
The summer we had a Stay-cation and visited lots of cool local places.
All the times we watched Jumanji in hotel rooms.
The year that their cousins lived with us.
Christmas mornings.
Thanksgiving dinners.
Resurrection eggs.
Band concerts.
Shopping for Samaritan's purse Christmas box children.
Making summer bucket lists.
Reading books & saying prayers together at bedtime.
Slumber parties in one bedroom or another.
The first time we all watched Friends together from season 1 through 10.
I could list a thousand things that I hope my kids remember as they stretch their wings and fly, but it would take a thousand years to list them all.
Above all else, I hope they know just these 2 things. To my kids:
1. I love you and will always, always be here for you. My heart wants to explode with pride as I watch you bloom & grow. You are amazing human beings and I'm honored to be your mom.
2. God loves you so much more than your dad & I do. You were always just on loan to us from Him. We've tried to out-love Him for years but the truth is, we just can't. He will always love you a million times bigger than we do. As long as you trust in Him, lean on Him for every decision and always treat other people with the kind of mercy and grace and love God gives to you, you'll be okay. If you trust Him and know how faithful He is and do your best to honor Him all your life, then my job means nothing because that knowledge and understanding is far more important than literally anything I could teach you.
Maybe we are nearing the finish line of this childhood thing. I feel like I'm on the last leg of this first long relay run and I'm sprinting for the end at this point, just clinging to the baton and looking for the runner ahead of me to hand it off. But it turns out, there is no runner up ahead. Just my kids & Jesus. So I'm stretching out my arm and passing the baton to them.
Press on, kiddos. You've got this! And if you look to the sidelines, Dad and I will be there, cheering.
Proverbs 3:5-6 Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding. In all ways, acknowledge Him and He will direct your path.
