Second Son’s graduation has me thinking about how I show up as a mom. I tell you, it’s not how I thought I would back before I was one.
When I became a mother, something inside me changed. Something went a little left. It’s like a secret code was activated and now inside me lives a fierce warrior. When pushed, she pushes back. Hard.
What good is being a warrior when there is no war?
Oh, but there IS a war raging. Ask any parent who’s ever tried to get a child birthed, raised and out on his or her own in one piece, capable and ready to take on the world for themselves. It’s battle after battle getting a child to adulthood…some internal, some between you and the child, and some between you and the world.
I screw up left, right and center, all day long and half the night as a mother. If I got started trying to list all the ways I’ve failed my children, I’d be sitting here still typing this time next week, at least. But that has nothing to do with me being (and recognizing) the fierce, warrior mom that I am. I fight for them much more than I fight with them.
When I look back over the last 6 years or so, my experience of mothering Second Son is vastly different than my experience mothering Oldest Son from 12 to 18. Where Second Son has been willing to listen, to consider maybe, just maybe, I had some valuable insight to offer, Oldest Son knew every damn thing already and gave me zero air time. Where Second Son allowed me to not only know what was up with him (only after extensive inquisition – he wouldn’t say shit if he had a mouthful), but to advocate for him when necessary, Oldest Son stonewalled me at every turn.
I’ve long maintained that somewhere between the 11th and 12th birthday, boys just lose their natural minds. I’d say it was the onset of puberty, and maybe that’s exactly what it is, but hell – I’m a girl, the first of 4 in my family – what the hell do I know about the onset of puberty in boys? Not a damn lot, even now, I assure you.
Don’t think for a minute Second Son didn’t lose his mind back then – he did. But how it has shown up has been drastically different. As the second child, and no doubt helped by the fact that the older sibling is a full 6 years older, Second Son had (and capitalized on) ample opportunities to watch his older brother and decide, “Uh yeah… that doesn’t look like it turned out all that well…I think I’ll take another path when I get there.”
And take another path, he did. Jesus Lord.
Maybe the underlying difference has been the fact that Oldest Son has me, his father and his stepmother all chiming in with parental wisdom, while Second Son just has me. Maybe having a plethora of parents gave Oldest Son room to flagrantly discount us all, whereas Second Son figured he better not shit where he eats. I don’t know. What I do know is that being summarily dismissed by Oldest Son made me redouble my efforts at “righting my parenting wrongs” with Second Son. In short, the warrior mom heard nothing but the battle cry and went a little left herself.
None of this bodes well for PDD. She just turned 12 last month, and I already see the signs of her natural mind going out the same window her brothers’ did. But she’s a girl, and I delude myself into thinking I know what I’m in for with her. Having been a teenage girl eons ago, myself, I entertain the delusion that I am prepared. But the warrior mom inside knows better. She thinks because I think I know more, I am now accountable to do more.
Given the fact that PDD is saddled with the feckless father, I’m afraid the warrior mom is right. Something tells me I will be grateful for every minute of the last 12 years of preparation her brothers have provided.
Pray. For. Me.
Wow, Suzanne – You nailed this thing called Motherhood to teenagers. As the oldest sister to 4 brothers, mother of 1 boy and 1 girl and grandmother to 2 boys and great grandmother to 2 boys and 1 girl. I can tell you that you are right on the money with your parenting.
My daughter set a good example of things my son decided he didn't want to do. On the other hand 1st grandson wanted to disregard all advice and learn the hard way, but what a fine young man he is today. The jury is still on the second grandson and little great grand children.
Even though it's hard to want to stay involved with all the kids growing up, I still choose to, because behind all the chaos they bring to themselves and their families there is a need from their side to know that they are loved and that someone has their back. And they all know that Grami WILL be there for them. Guess I'm still a warrior to.
Oh yes, Ellene, you are DEFINITELY still a warrior mom! I've said it before, and I'll say it again right here in public: Those kids and grandkids of yours are SO SMART to have chosen you! And you are leading by example for them, for me and so many others. Thank you.
Hi Suzanne,
You've got it right. Each kid is different & some take guidance and some don't. In my case, the older one was pretty easy. Oh, she went through the terrible twleves to fifteens but by sixteen she began to emerge on the other side as a person I could recognize as such. My second sounds just like your first…
Oddly enough, I think we raised them in the same manner — in retrospect, not the brightest thing to do. But we all do the best we can…
That is the saving grace for all of us, Steve – doing the best we can with the information we have in the moment. Couple that with how much we love them and our own growth that's going on parallel to theirs…it sure makes life interesting, doesn't it!?!
Parenting teenagers has to be one of the toughest jobs in the world, no matter what culture you're in. Thank goodness some of you take it seriously enough to produce people able to navigate our world and survive — and that you all survive it too 🙂