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Know your kid, not just your child

The first day of kindergarten.  A rite of passage.  For most parents, it is huge.  Many parents take the big day off from work in order to be there as their child steps up onto that big bus for the first time, video camera in one hand and tissues in the other. They take pictures upon pictures and make sure the day is one that remains in their memories forever.

Right through elementary school parents usually to do their very best to attend all school events. The school committees and ice cream socials are usually full of willing parents.  Parents want to know the teachers and other people in the school. They ask their child what they did that day and if they made any new friends.  They read to their children. They tuck them in at night and make sure they are as happy as can be.

Then one day that child is no longer that cute, little, innocent, cuddly child anymore.  He is now a talking-back middle schooler that just seems not so cuddly.  Most kids this age don’t even want to talk let alone explain how their day was. Not very inviting to Mom and Dad.  The attendance at parent school meetings dwindles.  The effort changes.

But that ‘rolling-the-eyes teen’ is still that same child that wants you there.  They might not really know it yet, but they do.  Now of course there are boundaries.  I stopped going to the middle school bus stop regularly, however do take a picture of them no matter what age they are on the first day of school.  The goal isn’t to embarrass them, but they will look back one day and so will you and wonder where you were that day.  Did I really miss that day?  Where was I? How did I not know?  Would it really have been that hard to make arrangements?

Of course too our schedules usually get crazier and busier as our kids get older.  I sometimes feel like a zombie just dropping my kids off here and there between working, figuring out whats for dinner, glancing over at the dishes piled in the sink, as I step over four loads of laundry on the way out the door.  I often wonder why we stop working when we have babies and then go back to work when our kids are in school!  I sometimes think the opposite may have worked out better.

Parents who have their first child entering kindergarten now may think, What do you mean? I plan to be very involved right through college. Sometimes this is easier said than done.  As our kids get older we give them more independence and more responsibilities.  All good stuff.  But this all makes it really easy to forget sometimes that we still need to be there. Not so much for PTA meetings or homeroom duties, but basically just to remember to be involved.  Ask questions, be a part of their excitement, know their friends, know what they are doing in school.  Talk, talk, talk.  Know your kid…not just your child.

Visit Gen X Mom’s blog here.

The Great Divide

The phone rings, ten A.M., Sunday morning, not an alarming hour for a call except if it’s from the other coast, three hours earlier, my daughter in L.A.  The distress in her voice is much too high, the anxiety palpable. She could not sleep last night, she tells me, some intense pain in her chest keeping her awake.  Too many episodes of Grey’s Anatomy and House have infused her consciousness with the horribly scary, even if unrealistic, things that can happen to young people. I do my best to reassure her, the voice of reason. Mommy, 3,000 miles away.  I can’t fathom that my daughter, all of twenty-three, is having a heart attack, even if it’s the place her very frightened soul is taking her.  Without seeing her, without being able to comfort her with a touch of my hand, all I can do is give her some long-distance TLC (keep taking long deep breaths) and some very motherly advice: If the pain does not go away or worsens, I tell her, get a friend to take you to the emergency room; if it does ease up (which I assume it will), go to the doctor tomorrow.

As a parent, I pride myself on not being of the helicopter variety (okay, maybe I hover a little). During my daughter’s college years – lucky for me, right here in the Northeast – I was privy to only as much as she wanted me to be, school-wise and otherwise.  College, transition that it’s supposed to be, is packaged independence, safety net and all: you need me, I’m seconds away by phone, three hours by car. When she went off to New Zealand for her junior semester abroad, I ached at the sight of her wheeling her luggage away from me in the airport. This was a BIG step, the other side of the planet, and, mixed in with my tears was a certain pride that the young woman my husband and I raised had a sense of adventure that would only take her places she felt ready to explore.  The funniest (now classic) e-mail we received came with the subject line: Guess what I did this weekend! and a photo worth a million words, my daughter, goggles and all, minutes before a tandem sky-dive.

Yet somehow my heart could more easily handle the thought of her thrill-seeking free-fall from a plane than the heartburn/acid reflux/anxiety spiral that grips her, no warning signs, no easy fix. Other species may send their young off to fend for themselves earlier than humans do, but other species do not anguish over whether their offspring, near or far, are making good choices or worry that all those early years of solicitous parenting were not enough preparation for the sobering transition to life after college. If my daughter were nearby, within easy reach, I could cook nourishing meals, see the smile on her face when she hugs the dog, refrain from calling into question the blessing I gave her to follow her bliss.  Text messages across a great divide are just not the same though I’m thankful for the ease of communication. Once a day I need to hear her voice and she needs to hear mine. I’m better than Xanax, she tells me.

There’s a photo of my daughter that I keep on my bookshelf, an all-time favorite, kindergarten. She’s sitting at a table, oh-so-pretty in purple plaid, her cheek resting in her hand, a smile that speaks worlds about innocence and joy.  Sometimes it seems like a lifetime ago, other times just like yesterday.

Visit Deborah Batterman’s personal site here

Testing …1,2,3.

This is a test of the emergency awesome system…this is only  a test.

Smartly New York is still on the launch pad.

Come back on Aug 23rd.

We will be in full AWESOME MODE.

Promise

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