I know I am supposed to feel all weepy and sad about this, but I clicked my heels and sang as I finished up my 23rd and final “back to school” night at my son’s high school.
What kind of a mother am I, anyway?
I’m feeling guilty as I write this because I am just so darn happy that I never have to have another language teacher speak to me in Spanish, that I never have to race up and down the five flights of stairs for a five-minute lecture on proper homework supervision and that I never have to see another PowerPoint presentation on the importance of gym in a child’s school day.
My baby is a high school senior. I don’t know who is more excited – him or me. He’s reveling in his position at the top of the high school food chain and I am reveling in the fact that I just paid my final PTA dues and sent in my final health form. I am checking things off my imaginary final “TO DO” list. I am looking forward to our final concert, our final guidance visit, our final baseball game and, finally, our final high school commencement. It is almost time to put away childish things. Finally.
Those of you with your oldest child in college perhaps had a more nostalgic approach to these rites of passage your children have just come through. For me, it’s been a long time coming!
But even as I am putting aside these childish things, I am wise enough to know that parenting is fundamentally an endless series of worry and concern, punctuated by occasional episodes of tremendous joy that make it all worthwhile. “When does this worrying end?” I asked my 85-year-old mother. “Never,” she responded, and pointed out that she is still fretting over the assorted burdens each of her nine children is facing at any given time.
My sister sent her middle son to college. She called me a few weeks ago in a panic. She had been to visit him for his 18th birthday and for the first time in his life he wasn’t hungry. What did that mean? Meanwhile, I have other mothers concerned because their children are packing on the pounds. Still other mothers are worried because their children are homesick or they seem to be struggling in some of their classes. Worry. Worry. Worry!
What’s a mother to do? I’d like to recommend a deep breath and a glass of merlot, but perhaps it’s more appropriate to remind ourselves that all of these adjustments to college and adulthood that come this time of year are opportunities for growth. Our children need to learn how to function independently and how to solve challenges on their own. “Jim doesn’t know that he can’t live without me,” my sister confided. “Don’t tell him just yet,” I advised.
It’s the time in the school year where things really can start to unravel. First year students suddenly realize that no one is going to drag them out of bed when their alarm clock rings. The math class that was a breeze the first three weeks is starting to get difficult. An English essay is due and an Anatomy and Physiology exam is looming. Meanwhile, upperclassmen who have lived through the perils of freshman year aren’t immune to poor choices.
We have an intricate support system for your students — multiple tutoring options, counseling, academic advising and spiritual guidance. We stand ready to help. Your job at home is to nudge your students toward us. Together, we can help transform hesitant teenagers into successful adults.
As a parent with two college graduates under my belt I have learned to take the bumps in stride. Each bad decision is an opportunity for growth and each good decision provides a chance to applaud the path your student is taking.
A few weeks ago after a meal of take-out Chinese, I cracked open a fortune cookie that I have been reflecting on ever since: “Worrying never prevents the evils of tomorrow, it only destroys the joys of today.” That’s one wise fortune cookie!