I have three grown children. It's a lot tricker to navigate a relationship with a grown child than it is with a two-year-old grandson. The especially tricky part is, my children, ages 20, 23 and 28, think they know me and they really don't.
Actually, this knowing and not knowing is one of the great paradoxes of parenting. The truth is, grown children don't know your heart (I am not in the habit of sharing it), but they know way too much about how you behave. After all, they have been sizing you up from the second they were born, assessing your every mood and learning the right buttons to push to make darn sure they get what they want. Brilliant these children and always watching you.
They don't stop watching when they no longer need you to feed and change them. At fourteen, arguably the worst age of a lifetime, they criticize your hair, your clothes, your values, your judgement, even your tone of voice as you call out, "Have a good time!" (You didn't really mean that!) Experts say they are "separating" and this process takes too long. I say, just rip the Band Aid from the skin quickly, inching it off hurts like hell.
Then, even after they've separated (what kind of separation includes wet towels on the bed, dirty dishes in the sink, and a missing car?) they forget they are grown and need to engage as adults. Need to respect your space, your time, your money, your opinions, your life. Even though they are all taller than me, something inside them keeps being fourteen. And they want you to behave within their expectations.
So, getting divorced when they were all almost grown threw everything up for grabs. I don't know who I am let alone fit into my children's version of me. The last three years I've done a lot of hiding my thoughts, feelings and desires for fear of rejection, ridicule and retribution. That approach hasn't worked and their practiced observation has found me out anyway. I realize I have to engage, be myself and hope for love and acceptence. I think it's working.
Last Friday, as Devin, went out the door to drive to Duluth to see a friend, he turned and said, "Mom, aren't you going to hug me goodbye?"
"Sure I'm going to hug you goodbye if you want me to!"
"I love you mom."
"I love you too Devin."
Actually, this knowing and not knowing is one of the great paradoxes of parenting. The truth is, grown children don't know your heart (I am not in the habit of sharing it), but they know way too much about how you behave. After all, they have been sizing you up from the second they were born, assessing your every mood and learning the right buttons to push to make darn sure they get what they want. Brilliant these children and always watching you.
They don't stop watching when they no longer need you to feed and change them. At fourteen, arguably the worst age of a lifetime, they criticize your hair, your clothes, your values, your judgement, even your tone of voice as you call out, "Have a good time!" (You didn't really mean that!) Experts say they are "separating" and this process takes too long. I say, just rip the Band Aid from the skin quickly, inching it off hurts like hell.
Then, even after they've separated (what kind of separation includes wet towels on the bed, dirty dishes in the sink, and a missing car?) they forget they are grown and need to engage as adults. Need to respect your space, your time, your money, your opinions, your life. Even though they are all taller than me, something inside them keeps being fourteen. And they want you to behave within their expectations.
So, getting divorced when they were all almost grown threw everything up for grabs. I don't know who I am let alone fit into my children's version of me. The last three years I've done a lot of hiding my thoughts, feelings and desires for fear of rejection, ridicule and retribution. That approach hasn't worked and their practiced observation has found me out anyway. I realize I have to engage, be myself and hope for love and acceptence. I think it's working.
Last Friday, as Devin, went out the door to drive to Duluth to see a friend, he turned and said, "Mom, aren't you going to hug me goodbye?"
"Sure I'm going to hug you goodbye if you want me to!"
"I love you mom."
"I love you too Devin."
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