This Parenting Thing

Parenting.

Amazing. Exhausting. Thrilling. Scary. Frustrating. Joyful. Happy. Sad. Bliss. Patience. Love.

Just a few of the ways one might describe this journey of parenthood.

I will say that in describing my life as a mom I would use about 90% positive adjectives and only about 10% negative.

I try not to sweat the small stuff.

Key word there is “try”.

There are some things, though, that no matter how hard you try to keep it together, it’s just nearly impossible.

In my seventeen and a half years as a parent, there are certain things that I just wish someone else would teach, or would have taught, my kids.

One is potty training. Seriously. If I could have sent them off for a week of potty-training camp I think I would have. Those people that tell me they potty-trained their kid in a day?  Liars, liars, pants on fire!

Both of my children were simply content to pee and poop at their leisure. Any time. Any place.

The pediatrician finally told me to let it go. Stop fighting the battle because it was one I was going to lose. He said the more I pushed, the more they would fight it. He was right.

The other thing I thought was excruciatingly difficult was teaching them to ride a bike. Seriously...SO EASY you guys! Yes...because when was their age, someone patiently taught me to ride a bike. I needed that patient person to teach my kids because it certainly wasn’t me.

Of course, after much practice they eventually figured it out. I mean there was that one time my oldest was still a little wobbly while riding down the sidewalk on his new bike and Grandma wasn’t quick enough to get out of the way and, well...let’s just say Grandma got run over by a bicycle. Don’t worry...she’s fine.

But now we’re at driving age. Past driving age, actually. Could have had his license a year and a half ago. But he wasn’t interested. Didn’t really have a desire to drive. This boggles my mind. I mean when I was sixteen I could.not.wait to drive! The first weekend I had my license my friend and I drove to the nearest mall to go shopping!

But nope. No desire to drive.

And then one day it changed to, “I want to drive right now!”

Well...dude...it doesn’t work like that. You have your permit, yes, but you still need to get all your driving hours in, you need to complete behind the wheel. You have work to do here.

So we drive.

Well, let me rephrase that…

He drives. I pray.

Sometimes I pray harder than other times.

Like yesterday, for instance. I thought I was going to be talking to St. Peter himself as he welcomed me into the pearly gates where I would find myself basking in the loving presence of Jesus.

(Okay...maybe I'm exaggerating a little here. But just a little.)

And then a few seconds later, using all the restraint I had not to completely lose it, I said,

“Pull. Over.”

Then I told him to get out and briefly considered telling him to walk the next few miles home. But I didn’t. Because, you know...grace, love, teachable moment...blah, blah, blah.

Without a word we both got out and switched seats.

And then I let loose with a lecture that left no room for discussion.

No.room.

I had the dance floor and he knew not to upstage my moves.

We got home and he went straight upstairs. My husband asked if everything was okay and I told him about my near journey to heaven.

He laughed. Of course he did. He didn't almost meet Jesus.

A little while later I went up to my son’s room and asked him if we were okay.

He said we were. Then I told him I loved him. He reciprocated.

We’re good. But I think...hope...the next time we drive we won’t be switching seats.

Now, onto my next task of convincing the 12-year old that cleaning the bathroom is NOT disgusting!

Wishing you JOY in the JOurneY.

*posted with permission from my oldest*