My second child is graduating. In twenty-four hours time, I will be the parent of a high school graduate. Yikes.
Funny thing about this, I have only been a parent for six years. I often joke upon meeting people that I'm an adoptive parent and my first child is six and my second child is eighteen. It usually takes a minute for them to get it, but it always elicits a chuckle.
Bringing a teenager into our home was a rather difficult decision to come to. The circumstances were complicated, to say the least, as I imagine it is for any teenage child who finds themselves in need of a new home. In the moment, you feel like everything will be ok. But going from the mommy of a three-year-old to parenting a fifteen-year-old girl was quite an eye opening experience. Most parents are allowed to grow and adapt their parenting style right along with their child. We were thrown into the deep end.
In her defense, Jess was a VERY, VERY easy teenager. She is graduating as valedictorian of her class. I wish I could say I had something to do with that, but the reality is, it was all her. She was always driven to keep straight A's. Maybe a sibling rivalry thing, Chelle was valedictorian so nothing less would suffice. She is loyal to her friends, but if they wrong her they are out of her life. When we talk about various teenage girl issues at home, Darrin uses a pop culture phrase that sums it up pretty well. Jess and I always laugh because, usually, it is a spot-on assessment of the situation. And she understands in one statement that she is too caught up in someone else's drama.
But in this period of great import in my daughter's life, I can't help but question if what I'm doing is enough. Would things be different for her if her early life were less crazy? The answer is yes, they would be different. But every bad situation, all the neglect, the abuse, every DCFS intervention, it all made her who she is. It created the strength of bond between her and her siblings. It gave her a caring heart and made her want to help others. It made her a fierce fighter, which has allowed her to create the life she deserves. There are times I wish with every fiber of my being I could have shielded her from the bad things that have happened to her. But then she wouldn't be who she is today.
So we love her. We love her the way we feel our child should be loved. We can't change the past, but we hope we help her see the value of family. And help her know there are people she can depend on in her life, no matter what happens, especially as she takes her next steps into adulthood.
Saturday, May 14, 2016
Monday, May 9, 2016
Grace
How many of you have ever felt that, despite your best efforts, you are still inadequate in some way shape or form? How many of you try with all your might to make everything in your life work, yet still fall short? I often con myself into a delusion that I have everything together.
In a former version of myself, when life proved me wrong, it would derail my mind for a day or two, sometimes longer. I would wallow in a pit of self-loathing over the fact I screwed up. Or that the world was against me; what other explanation was there for my bad "luck"?
As I get older, I have realized that I quickly forgive everyone in my life for the mistakes they make. When we were younger, my sister and I held epic grudges, forgiveness simply wasn't part of our relationship. Thankfully that has changed over time. Everyone makes mistakes, and it is simpler to rectify, forgive and move on than it is to hold onto the wrong that occurred. Why do I have so much trouble forgiving myself when I make an error?
I tend to ruminate on issues that arise in my life. What if I had done this, would it have changed the outcome? If only I had said XYZ instead, maybe they would have reacted differently. The worse I feel about a situation, the longer it lingers in my mind. It is a form of guilt I carry, that I couldn't right the wrong, couldn't solve the problem.
A technique I try to employ is to think of the issue as a physical entity. A box, so to speak. And when I find myself being tortured with the what if's of a situation, I remember to take the box and set it down. I don't lose it, by any means, but I set it down to revisit it later. I must force my mind to stop thinking about it. And it works. When I focus my mind on other things instead of my problem, I always find the resolution the next time I pick up the box.
A dear friend once gave me this perspective on life: Our bodies have not evolved at the rate of our technology. The human form was never intended to sit at a desk, or stare at a screen, or be in five different places at once. We subject ourselves to unrealistic demands that our species isn't prepared for. It might be a little exaggerated, but it has helped me through a number of tough times.
So when my human mind forgets an appointment, or says the wrong thing, or unintentionally hurts a friend, I must apologize, right the wrong, and forgive myself with the same grace I bestow upon others.
In a former version of myself, when life proved me wrong, it would derail my mind for a day or two, sometimes longer. I would wallow in a pit of self-loathing over the fact I screwed up. Or that the world was against me; what other explanation was there for my bad "luck"?
As I get older, I have realized that I quickly forgive everyone in my life for the mistakes they make. When we were younger, my sister and I held epic grudges, forgiveness simply wasn't part of our relationship. Thankfully that has changed over time. Everyone makes mistakes, and it is simpler to rectify, forgive and move on than it is to hold onto the wrong that occurred. Why do I have so much trouble forgiving myself when I make an error?
I tend to ruminate on issues that arise in my life. What if I had done this, would it have changed the outcome? If only I had said XYZ instead, maybe they would have reacted differently. The worse I feel about a situation, the longer it lingers in my mind. It is a form of guilt I carry, that I couldn't right the wrong, couldn't solve the problem.
A technique I try to employ is to think of the issue as a physical entity. A box, so to speak. And when I find myself being tortured with the what if's of a situation, I remember to take the box and set it down. I don't lose it, by any means, but I set it down to revisit it later. I must force my mind to stop thinking about it. And it works. When I focus my mind on other things instead of my problem, I always find the resolution the next time I pick up the box.
A dear friend once gave me this perspective on life: Our bodies have not evolved at the rate of our technology. The human form was never intended to sit at a desk, or stare at a screen, or be in five different places at once. We subject ourselves to unrealistic demands that our species isn't prepared for. It might be a little exaggerated, but it has helped me through a number of tough times.
So when my human mind forgets an appointment, or says the wrong thing, or unintentionally hurts a friend, I must apologize, right the wrong, and forgive myself with the same grace I bestow upon others.
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