It's no secret that being a parent can be difficult. We are made aware that there will be sleepless nights, temper tantrums, illnesses, bratty attitudes and so on. When we embark on our parenting journey, we concoct an idea of what kind of parent we'd like to be; whether that be the opposite of our parents, similar to them, strict, easy going, a health nut, a softy- you name it. Then, we become parents, and nothing goes according to plan.
And that plan keeps changing right along with our children.
Sometimes, the most difficult part of parenting is letting go of the parent you want to be, and becoming the parent your child needs you to be.
I feel like I peaked as a parent when my girls were younger. Cuddling and reading was my motherly love language, and most things could be fixed with a snuggle and a good picture book back then. I also felt like this was when I was the most active with them; visiting multiple playgrounds, libraries, zoos, Toe Jam Puppet Band (if you know, you know), doing all the crafts. Until one day it all just seemed to stop.
They read books on their own. My oldest became repelled by my affection. Crafts were no longer fun. Playgrounds were for babies.
They started doing more on their own and with their friends, and after years of (admittedly) being more of a helicopter mom, I felt like I had no idea how to parent my growing daughters anymore. What comforts one doesn't help the other, and so the mother I had always been and told myself I would be could no longer fit in a one-size-fits-all package. So now, not only am I learning how to navigate a new level of motherhood as they grow up, but also trying to be two different versions of that mother so I can accommodate their separate needs.
Some days I feel like a failure. Like there's not enough of me and the versions of myself I need to be to go around. My little one still loves to cuddle, play board games, have dance parties, and play pretend. She can turn on the water works at the drop of a dime, but is easily soothed with a long hug or affirming conversation. So, at times, she's "easier" to parent because this is the version of myself I am most familiar with. My oldest, however, would probably request payment if she were asked to play a board game with us, acts like she's allergic to hugs, and the only pretending she does is putting on one hell of a happy face when opening a gift she doesn't care for.
It's a struggle, because I have to be two moms; one that's always prepared to cuddle and soothe and play, and another who needs to give space and have long talks and guide. It's a struggle because it's different...because it's change - and change challenges us.
But we also grow from challenges, and my biggest challenge right now as a mother of a 10 and 13 year old is to let go of the mother I want to be - or think I "should" be - and let my kids guide me to be the mother they need. It's okay for kids to be the teachers and parents to be the students sometimes. When asking my girls what they need, how I can help, what sounds fun, I learn. I shift my parenting. I adjust.
It breaks my heart when my teenager is emotional and won't let me near her. It sucks when your suggestions for activities are met with a dramatic eye roll. It hurts to look back at all the things we used to do together that are no longer cool (despite their tattooed and pierced mom being a willing participant). I was prepared for dirty diapers and obnoxious strollers and restaurant meltdowns. I was not prepared to feel like I am losing little bits of them so early.
I thought the younger years were so much more consuming, with all the parks and play dates to keep them occupied and out of the house for a bit. But now, listening to the tween spew off Stranger Things facts for hours on end or listening to the teen's latest Hot Topic fashion dilemma has me wondering when the hell we got here. There's a quote I'll never forget reading, that said something like "one day, you went outside to play for the last time and didn't even know it" - THAT'S how this feels. I had no warning they'd outgrow playgrounds or feety-pajamas or freaking hugs. I also had no idea how much I'd have to outgrow things about myself to better accommodate their needs.
I miss fuzzy pajamas and picture books, but I am learning to adjust to my (sorry for saying it) new normal. My teenager and I have the L O N G E S T talks, share chapter books and Netflix shows, have a mutual love for chocolate and coffee, and are trying to find common ground with our needs - because I just want to hug the shit out of that girl all the time and she'd rather live in a bubble (so long as it contained her guitar). As for my little tween, I am forcibly trying to slow down time by simply appreciating her littleness; watching her play, letting her occupy my lap, wiping her tears while she lets me.
So maybe I didn't "peak" as a mother when they were babies and toddlers, but I'm having a hard time convincing myself of that when it feels like you give and get so much less as they grow. For now, I will keep splitting myself in two - or so it feels - to hug one more while I hug the other less. To be fun one minute and calm the next. To keep learning and growing right along with them. I may miss those squishy baby faces and the simplicity of one-size-fits-all motherhood, but I definitely don't miss diaper bags and car seats, so I guess I'll take it.
