Mom Brags

What’s the hardest age to parent?

Is it the newborn trenches, when you long for even a three-hour stretch of sleep? The toddler meltdown stage, when your very own pint-sized replica demands “NOT YOU!” every time you try to help them or even sing along to whatever Disney movie is playing in the background?

Or do the real parenting challenges come later, when your school-age kids are in tears about feeling left out by their peers or left behind with their school work? Is it teenagers, when they experience their first grown-up heartbreaks? Young adults, when they are first out on their own, and there is nothing you can do when they make independent decisions that you wouldn’t have made, but you grit your teeth and hope it comes off as a smile?

As an expert with six kids from 21 down to 1, I’m here to say the answer is TODDLERS.

Just kidding.

The real answer is that every stage of parenting comes with challenges, and some of those challenges are going to knock you out. And it’ll never be what you expect either. And it’s different with every single kid, even if you have six!

I remember thinking I was a potty-training expert after my first two. They got the concept right away and were fully out of diapers by 2-and-a-half. Then my third child came around and welp, I had to throw away my Mom of the Year trophy.

Parenthood is a crazy ride, man.

But the most fun part of having a big age gap is seeing some of the results of putting in the hard and long hours when they’re younger. My goal (like most parents, I hope) has always been to raise kind and conscientious humans above all else.

I have so much to be proud about with all my kids, but especially my older ones simply because they’ve been on the planet longer and are actually becoming functioning members of adult society. They’ve done really well in school, navigated their divorced-kid childhood with grace, and constantly amaze me with what thoughtful, capable young women they have become.

First one I want to brag about: Hannah is getting off the wrong train. I heard a motivational quote recently that said, “When you realize you’re on the wrong train, get off as soon as possible, because the longer you stay on it, the more costly the return trip will be.”

By the time she was done with her fall semester of senior year at college, Hannah realized that doesn’t want to work in her major-intended field of computer science. She was three semesters deep into heavy comp-sci classes and spent last summer interning at a tech company and decided that it is just not for her. So her options were to plow forward to a life with a job that made her miserable but maybe paid the bills, or shift gears even though it seriously complicates things right now.

For one, she’s changing majors to one she’s passionate about — theatre. She still has the comp-sci minor, and a LOT of technical knowledge that could potentially help her in the job market eventually. She’s also going to be learning a ton about project management next year as she puts together a senior capstone for the theatre department. It’s going to be a LOT of work, but work that makes her excited to get out of bed in the morning and face the challenges of the day.

Second, Justin and I gave her four years of tuition, and no more. So to take another year of school is a financial burden that she is taking on herself (she understands all of this, including what her monthly payments will be with interest after she graduates). She recognizes that getting off the train right now is costly — but the costs are only going to go up the longer she stays on it.

I am so freaking proud of my girl, especially as someone who has a tendency to stay on the train dozens of stations past when I should’ve gotten off.

Next brag: Cordelia at 17 takes delight in relationships and building connections in a way that I think is pretty rare amongst teenagers, and that means more to me than if she were to come home with a perfect 1600 on the SATs.

She’s finishing up her junior year in high school, where she’s taking multiple AP classes, involved with several clubs, heavily involved in volunteer work, maintaining friendships, and pursuing her passion by taking a class called Teaching and Learning, which allows her to be an aid in a second grade classroom for four hours a week.

Cordelia has wanted to be a teacher since she was old enough to line up her dollies and stuffies in front of a book and pretend to read to them. I’ve often wondered over the last decade and a half if she would eventually change her mind, but this girl has never waivered. Almost all of her volunteer work revolves around children, including spending weeks during the summer volunteering with youth camps and vacation bible schools.

At home she invented “Dia School” for the little kids (Dia is her family nickname) and creates her own lesson plans tailored to each child. She prints out worksheets and spends her own money on supplies sometimes to make the experience really authentic for them, and they adore it.

She told me a story recently that made my heart skip a beat with mom pride. A couple of weeks ago it was Teacher Appreciation Week at all the schools in our district, and I scrambled to get things done I needed to get done for the little kids’ elementary school teachers. I didn’t even THINK to talk to Cordelia about it — she was at her dad’s house that week and I knew she was in the midst of studying for AP exams.

Remember I told you that she’s been working in an elementary school as one of her high school electives? On her own, she went and purchased a gift for the teacher who has been mentoring her this year, just because she appreciates all she does for the kids, and how much she has taught her about real-time teaching. The teacher admitted to her that in ten years of being a part of this program with the high school, Cordelia is the first student to ever bring her a gift for teacher appreciation week.

Call me crazy, but having that kind of heart is going to help her build the life of community and connection she desires more than a perfect SAT score. (I’m still going to make her study this summer though!)

It gives me something to hold onto when my three-year-old refuses to use her manners or my eight-year-old struggles with plans changing or my six-year-old needs middle-of-the-night reassuring after a nightmare or my one-year-old has to be dropped off a dozen times at the church nursery before he goes without crying because he finally realizes there are toys there and mommy and daddy ALWAYS come back.

Because one day I won’t have to be this hands-on with parenting in my day-to-day life, and my hope and prayer is that these four littles will follow in their big sisters’ footsteps. I’m doing everything in my power as their mom to make it happen, and I can’t wait to see who they become as they grow up and go out into the world.