A and I were up late last night talking. She's 17, working 20 hours a week, taking 15 hours in college and homeschooling 2 classes. She's busy but she thrives when she's busy. She's happy.
But she has a problem.named.Mom. And that's why we were up late last night talking...sitting on the couch sipping hot tea...just A and her....problem. Here's pretty much how it went:
A: I get so frustrated. I'm raised, Mom. I've got it. We're just putting the final coats on the paint, so to speak, before I move out in a year. I've got time management, priorities and responsible choices down. You don't need to make those decisions for me unless you see I'm not doing a good job making them for myself. Is that the case?
Problem Mom: That's not the case, honey.
A: Then..what?
Problem Mom:
Blink. Blink.
A: Mom? Why are staring at me? Say something.
Problem Mom:
Blink. Blink.
A: I don't mean to sound disrespectful, but I want to be honest. It doesn't make sense to me that I have to ask your permission to go to a movie on Monday night with friends, when I'm the one who knows if I can afford to. If I have everything ready for school the next morning, if I have enough energy and if I have enough money, I should be able to say 'yes' when I'm invited and want to go. Letting you know where I am makes sense, but asking permission just doesn't make sense anymore. Do you know what I mean?
Problem Mom:
Blink. Blink.
A: Are you still listening to me? Another example is when you woke me up for school last Friday. I told you Thursday night that I needed to stop and put gas in my car on my way to school. You asked me what time I was getting up. I told you that I had to be at school by 9:30, so I was getting up at 8. You said ok. But do you remember what happened Friday morning?
Problem Mom:
Blink. Blink.
A: You came upstairs and woke me up 15 minutes before 8. You said you remembered I needed to get gas before school so I needed to get up early to have time to do that. I smiled and did as you asked, but I had already taken into account that I needed to get gas before school when I set my alarm for 8. I know you were being thoughtful and trying to help, but I had it covered. And I need you to give me the chance to show you I have it covered. ...Mom?
She's right. I'm staring at her and it's like I have some kind of double vision. The present and the past keep changing places. I see her. I see all of her yesterdays...and I see her today. She's almost ready. Dear Lord, grant me strength, she's almost ready to fly.
3 comments:
It doesn't get easier, does it? She's a beautiful girl.
I shared this post with my 17 yo. Thank you very much. You did a great job describing it.
My heavens, this is me all over except I am doing this with my son..your daughter is beautiful.
Post a Comment