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The Joys and Uncertainties of Parenting
An unexpected delight of parenting has been the unique soundtrack that fills our home each morning—the jarring click of the alarm clock and the distant hum of music echoing down the hallway. There are the cats racing up the stairs, leaping over scattered toys and across beds, followed by the soft rustle of sheets as sleepy feet shuffle toward the bathroom. Then comes the familiar call: “I’m awake, Mom.” No matter the challenges that may arise throughout the day, this morning chorus lingers in my mind.
It was a Tuesday after a long weekend, and the night before, my kids had bathed, changed their sheets, and organized their backpacks to ensure a smooth start to the day. I felt a sense of happiness as the morning unfolded.
Lila approached me, her beloved footie pajamas enveloping her tiny frame, the hood pulled over her head, with floppy ears that bobbed as she leaned into my chest and sleepily murmured, “Good morning, Mama.” I gently rubbed her back through the fleece and told her how much I loved her. My older children, Mia and Sophie, emerged a bit slower, their preteen faces caught between grumpiness and drowsiness, but they eventually joined in with mostly friendly smiles.
We prepared lunches, a well-orchestrated relay of activity, before Mia curled up with a book and Sophie settled in with her tablet. Meanwhile, Lila filled her water bottle and untied her shoes. I couldn’t help but admire her determination; despite being the youngest, she never dawdles when it’s time to get ready. She always walks out the door first, confidently assuring me with a “Yes” when I ask if she’s completed her tasks.
This year marked a turning point for me—I realized that I cannot protect them from every little thing, and that running forgotten items to school does not foster independence. Although I can’t say I enjoy saying, “Maybe next time you’ll remember,” I’ve been saying it nonetheless, and they seem to be forgetting less often. I’ll take that as progress.
The emphasis on remembering has sparked deeper conversations; the girls now share more about their school experiences, from discussions about drug prevention to practicing lockdown drills. Mia explained the challenges of sharing cubbies, saying, “I have to share mine, but it’s okay because I get in first, even if I get pushed and it’s hard to breathe. If there was a shooter, I wouldn’t be in front.”
I strive to keep my emotions in check during these discussions, not wanting to instill more fear than necessary. I can’t be there in their classrooms or hallways to influence their decisions, so I focus on supporting them from home.
“Oh,” I replied. “I’m glad you know the plan.” Lila then chimed in, “In my classroom, we have spots to hide. We’re supposed to be quiet and not make a sound, which would be tough because if my nose runs or I have to cough, I can’t do it. But I promise, I won’t.” I nodded and smiled, recognizing the weight of these conversations and how they shape my response to their requests to stay home.
With ten minutes left before we had to leave, Lila said, “I wish I could play hooky.”
“Why?” I asked, curious.
She shrugged, “I don’t know. I just would.” Her big blue eyes searched mine for a hint of leniency.
“Nope, it’s a school day. You need to go,” I insisted, as she darted off to grab her coat.
The cold air bit as we waited for the bus, and she repeated her wish to stay home. I glanced down the street, remembering the day I heard about Newtown while waiting for the bus myself. I looked back at Lila, my heart racing, pondering if she sensed the underlying fears about school safety.
With no meetings or pressing deadlines on my agenda, I had planned to be home early, ready to meet them after school to avoid the harsh winds. All I wanted was to hold Lila in my arms the entire day, but uncertainty loomed over me.
“Not today. We’ll have a day off in April when we visit Grandma. Today, you’ll go to school, see your friends, learn new things, and tonight we’ll cuddle up, and you can tell me all about your day. I can drive you to school if you want.”
She grinned, “No, I like the bus.”
“I like you,” I replied, and she giggled before launching herself toward the approaching bus. My heart swelled. I didn’t shout “I love you” after her; Lila has drawn a distinct line between my affection and what she shares with her friends. As I settled into the driver’s seat, tears threatened to spill as I watched her wipe the condensation off the bus window with her sleeve.
Then, she caught my gaze and mouthed, “I love you.” I whispered it back to her, my voice trembling. Alone in the car, as the bus’s tail lights faded into the distance, I took a deep breath, replaying the morning sounds and her requests to stay home, wondering if my decision was indeed the right one.
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Summary
Parenting offers a unique blend of joy and uncertainty, captured in the morning routines filled with laughter and deeper conversations about safety and independence. As children grow, parents navigate their own challenges, striving to balance support with the need for their kids to learn and experience life on their own terms, all while cherishing the quiet moments of connection.