Often when people ask me how my kids are doing I do one of two things:
- I tell them details of how they’re doing well, and then immediately knock wood so as not to jinx the upward trend.
- Or, I just report the facts without emotion, commentary or reaction, much like newscasters from the 50’s and 60’s, so as not to tempt fate.
I tell offsprings #1 & #2 that I am proud of them all the time, but when it comes to celebrating their accomplishments to the world, I operate under a near constant fear that my pride will bring about their fall. Because I’m just that powerful, right?
The thing is, I’ve never wrapped my kids in bubble wrap. I let them eat a cookie that fell on the floor. I didn’t make them wash their hands every five minutes. I didn’t dote over every cut, scrape and literal fall. But when it came and comes to their emotional well-being or their confidence, well, I suppose I bubble wrap that a bit. I did, and do still protect them from that kind of pain too much. And I clearly did not do that well since they have both had their fair share of falls in that department.
- Their hearts have been broken, their confidence crushed.
- Their anxieties have constructed false or exaggerated narratives many times.
- They have been misunderstood, and therefore mistreated.
- They have misunderstood and mistreated.
- They have made bad choices
- They have miscalculated.
- They have failed.
- They have doubted.
- They have given up.
- And they will do it all again
And
They have survived
And
Thrived.
They say, as a parent, you are only as happy as your unhappiest child. It is true. I feel their pain and uncertainty physically; it takes up residence in the acreage between my throat and my heart. And during the heart of their storm, literally nothing else is as important to me. I surrender to the sound and fury, which always ends up signifying nothing because they weather it. Time and again, they weather it. So, it seems silly to fear the jinx and try to control fate with the knocking of what is probably pressed manufactured IKEA wood, because celebrating a 3.89 GPA or a well-earned apprenticeship is not just holding up the shiny result, it’s giving a standing ovation to the struggle that led to the fortitude to persevere when 3.89’s and apprenticeships seemed impossible.
So, on this Mother’s Day of 2024, I celebrate the struggles, the failings, the impossibles and the falls that have shaped the two humans I am beyond proud to call my sons. I will always try to be there to catch you; and if I’m not, I know you know how to get back up again.
