I’m at a crossroads. My eldest will enter double digits in a month. I’ve always been one that was excited to see my kids grow up and experience life with them. I am not sad, or torn up about them growing up (although my youngest just moved out of his crib and that was tougher than I expected). I’ll admit, I’m a bit adrift.
I have a very good handle on the pre-school/early elementary ages. The curiosity, the wonder…I could just eat it up and love to foster it each day. Sure, I can only play so many games of dress up or cluck a conversation in chicken to my 2-year old for a limited amount of time, but this was my sweet spot. The Covid pandemic hit when my oldest was 3-4 years old and I took hold of teaching, entertaining and engaging him fully, along with his sister, only a year and a half younger than him. It was great (most of the time).
But now he’s 10 and she’s 8 and a half, and I honestly don’t know what to do with them. We are on the doorstep of tweening and the mood swings and attitude and shutting down are REAL. One is an extrovert, one is an introvert, and they have two younger siblings, which is just a recipe for tantrums and multiple people losing tempers. Most nights I’m left questioning myself and knowing I “raised them better than this.” I don’t know what to do with them, but I know what I can do for them.
I check my temper (as much as possible).
I listen to them.
I set and enforce boundaries.
I pray for them.
I pray with them.
And I entrust them to the Lord.
