Last Friday, in a moment of motherly frustration, I wrote THIS post. It was really just a rambling babble about toilet paper...and yet it resonated something fierce with so many of you.
Here's what I realized - every comment, like, text and email made me SO freaking glad to know people who are living this same life.
The shared experiences of kids and parents and teaching them and hoping against all hope that we're not setting them up for many years of therapy...maybe just a couple.
We're all in this together. We ARE the village. And the village has changed over the years. Just as our kids are dependent on social media and screens for their lifelines, so too are we, as is evidenced by the reaction this post got. I subscribe to almost 40 different blogs, many of which are about the human condition of living, loving, and doing the best we can. We like to know we're not alone. We like to know we're not destroying our babies. We like to know we gave them roots, wings, and the best damn toolbox we can create so they can go forth and live. They will stumble, trip, fall, and get up again. We did and we continue to do so. It isn't always easy. It isn't always fun. BUT, and here's the kicker as far as I can figure out, as long as they know we love them and we have their back, they WILL succeed. And probably succeed far beyond our expectations.
My friend Kelly, who commented on the original post, sent her eldest off to college this week. She posted THIS awesome blog post about the mindset of the students of the Class of 2017. Give it a read. It is fascinating to see what our kids have grown up with versus what we did.
In the end, we all hope we've done our best. We hope they know how much we adore them. We hope they will be productive members of society. We hope they will be happy. We hope they will make a difference and care about stuff that matters - to them, to the world, to their community.
In 1970, Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young released "Teach Your Children." Jerry Garcia plays the steel guitar. I was nine. The first chord can come on and I will always know this song. I suspect nearly everyone who reads this blog knows the song. Forty-three years later, the message remains the same. I couldn't find a better song if I really wanted to than this.
Here's what I realized - every comment, like, text and email made me SO freaking glad to know people who are living this same life.
The shared experiences of kids and parents and teaching them and hoping against all hope that we're not setting them up for many years of therapy...maybe just a couple.
We're all in this together. We ARE the village. And the village has changed over the years. Just as our kids are dependent on social media and screens for their lifelines, so too are we, as is evidenced by the reaction this post got. I subscribe to almost 40 different blogs, many of which are about the human condition of living, loving, and doing the best we can. We like to know we're not alone. We like to know we're not destroying our babies. We like to know we gave them roots, wings, and the best damn toolbox we can create so they can go forth and live. They will stumble, trip, fall, and get up again. We did and we continue to do so. It isn't always easy. It isn't always fun. BUT, and here's the kicker as far as I can figure out, as long as they know we love them and we have their back, they WILL succeed. And probably succeed far beyond our expectations.
My friend Kelly, who commented on the original post, sent her eldest off to college this week. She posted THIS awesome blog post about the mindset of the students of the Class of 2017. Give it a read. It is fascinating to see what our kids have grown up with versus what we did.
In the end, we all hope we've done our best. We hope they know how much we adore them. We hope they will be productive members of society. We hope they will be happy. We hope they will make a difference and care about stuff that matters - to them, to the world, to their community.
In 1970, Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young released "Teach Your Children." Jerry Garcia plays the steel guitar. I was nine. The first chord can come on and I will always know this song. I suspect nearly everyone who reads this blog knows the song. Forty-three years later, the message remains the same. I couldn't find a better song if I really wanted to than this.
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