“When Can I Resign?”

heart

“Boys break your house, girls break your heart.” Anon.

It seems to me that boys are brilliant at breaking things, or worse, themselves and girls are brilliant at breaking you, either way your parent-heart is a little bit dented every time. When it happens to me I carefully try and hammer out those ruts and pits from the inside in order to try and repair some of the damage. However much I try though, I’ve come to realise that I’m not an expert in heart restoration, trying to figure it out keeps me awake at night.

Last week was a case in point for us. Our son injured his back on the sports field again, so now rugby is out, cricket is out, football is out. It’s not a serious injury, just a reoccurring one that makes it painful for him to run or bend. The doctor suggests yoga or pilates. That’ll be fun – he’s twelve so I’m looking forward to breaking the news to him later when he gets in from school. Can anyone help me here? How do I sell this to him? (How will he keep it a secret from his friends?) The thing about back injuries, I am constantly reminded, is that they can cause problems in later life. I feel it is my parental duty to raise my son in such a way that he is at the very least able to walk when he leaves this nest.

Apart from him, our daughter decided on the same day that she didn’t want to live with us anymore. It was literally a dark and stormy night, the rain was lashing, and my dear husband was running up the driveway to go and look for her in the forest in his slippers and pj’s. It turned out that she had been hiding under the bed all along, I laughed with relief and cried with delayed shock, anger, fear etc. It’s scary how one’s imagination gets a bit carried away. My husband’s work brings him into contact with people suffering in the dark realm of depression and suicide on a daily basis, so for him it’s not a far stretch from imagination into reality. That night he said he wants to resign from parenting, it’s getting too hard now. I know she’s not depressed, just a normal teenager and we have since resolved the argument. But it is so difficult to know what to do or say in order to get it right as a parent.

So, we went out for a coffee yesterday morning, Husband and I, and we came up with a communication plan. I love plans, I love making them together with him and I love the way my daugher and I do actually talk about stuff that matters. It’s my fervent desire to maintain that relationship as best I can through the turbulent years ahead. She has two sisters who will be following in her wake and unfortunately for her she is my guinea pig. I think it’s a wise plan. Also, I’ve figured out the two of us don’t parent alone, there are other adults who love my kids and who have formed caring relationships with them. They share our burdens and actually their words and guidance leave a greater impression on the children than ours do at times.

My heart, I realise is not being beaten into shape only by my hand, we are a parent team, surrounded by a community, entrusting ourselves a Master craftsman who is far more willing and able to fashion it into something more beautiful than I ever could. It’s the trust that drives out my fear and enables me to live with the consequences of the breakage.

Advertisements

4 Comments Add yours

  1. joan says:

    Ahh Liberty
    I can tell that you are now going through what I have come out at the other end of… from age 14 years to 25 years were our demon years, and we still have those moments, but far less often thankfully. I can only wish you luck. Beautifully written 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Oh boy Joan, 11 years is a long time! Thanks for your kind words as always.

      Like

  2. Lucy Camp says:

    When my son was about 3 or 4 years old, he asked me if I had been to school to learn to be a mummy and when I told him that,no; “I was winging it” (Actually I didn’t use those words but it sounds good!) He said I was doing pretty good then. It was a very proud moment for me. One book I found invaluable when going through the teenage years with my daugther was the Butterfuly Effect by Danielle Miller. There is a lot of pressure on our girls and this was great.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thanks Lucy, I’ll have a look out for that book. Great to be so well appreciated by your little boy at that age, I hope he still encourages you now!

      Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s