“This is why I don’t tell you things!” proclaimed my almost-19-year-old, her hand on her hip. “You just take over.”
My face flushed and I bowed my head in guilt.
She. Was. So. Right.
But, my intentions were good
All I meant to do was download the college dorm room dimensions.
And quickly poke around on Pinterest for inspiration on how to decorate a dorm room.
Perhaps I’d find some tips for maximizing the tiny space. After all, I am a professional organizer. This is what I do.
An embarrassing amount of time passed. I emailed her the room dimensions. I called her over to look at the pins I found.
And that’s when she gave it to me straight.
Like an arrow through my heart.
I am Mother, hear me roar
19 years ago, when my belly burst with blue-purple stretch marks and I griped about having to fashion my arms into a makeshift crane everytime I changed postion at night, I had already developed ideas about what being a mother meant.
At that time, I was still under the delusion that I’d be able to mold my kids into all the good things: essentially, the best parts of my husband and me.
That September, I gave birth to a baby girl and also, my Role as a mother. I’ve capitalized role because I thought of “Mother” as a set of characteristics: provider, protector, shoulder to cry on (and puke on and bite), teacher, wise woman, role model, visiting lecturer.
Sigh.
If you are a parent, you are laughing at my naiveté.
Our children are as much our teachers as we are theirs.
Just when we think we are getting the hang of it, they change! Blast it all.
I mean, parenting = always #blessed. <Insert eyeroll.>
I’ve been trying to be nimble with my parenting over these teen years.
Earlier this year, I had a cry-fest over being asked for a baby photo of my daughter to place in the senior class yearbook. Read Let Go and Lean In, Mama Bird.
What’s the blueprint for mothering an almost-in-college daughter?
To be honest, I am figuring it out through trial and error, mainly error and listening.
Here are a few things I have on my “best practices” list:
- Stop talking and listen
- Ask questions in the spirit of genuine curiosity
- Only take actions that she has requested
- Let her experience her own successes and roadblocks
- Remember that the best thing I can do as her mother is to help her trust herself
What would you add to the list?
Landmines ahead!
In the next six weeks, I will get plenty of opportunities to practice my newfound ideas about mothering.
We haven’t even gone dorm room supply shopping yet. Or gotten crafty. Or figured out how her stuff will fit in the car.
Or sat in the car as she confidently waves goodbye in front of her new home.
Heaven help us. I better put some tissues in my purse now.
xoxo,
Are you experiencing a life transition? Consider this your invitation to start figuring it out. I wrote a whole book about life transitions called Who Am I Now? Realign Your Home and Life. Find it here.
