Kristy Kelly: Adult children are the worst
There is nothing worse, as a mother, than when your grown child presents you with a problem that your experience could easily resolve, only to refuse any semblance of advice or parental wisdom. The amount of time you get to prepare your children for life is far briefer than you ever expect. One minute theyโre running around in diapers and seeking your guidance in all things, and the next, theyโre married with three children, living halfway across the country.
As the mother of four, Iโm constantly amazed at how different their approach to life is. My youngest son recently graduated from Lenoir Community College with an Associate's degree in Mechanical Engineeringโthe first of my children to earn a degree. He still lives at home, but I know itโs only a matter of time before he starts his own adventures. Yet, he seems to think employers are lining up, waiting to hire him. His lackadaisical perspective on his future drives his neurotic mother crazy. Heโll line up to volunteer and help someone else, but he wonโt prioritize his own needs.
Then thereโs my middle son. This boy has been Hell on Wheels since birth. Every pearl-clutching moment Iโve had as a parent started and ended with him saying, โGuess what I just did.โ He was the boy-equivalent of โhold my beer.โ I should have known heโd be an interesting human when, at 18 months old, he took the hydraulic off the screen door with a screwdriver and insatiable curiosity. For the next seventeen years, he dismantled most of my appliances and electronics. Now, he only calls when someoneโusually meโhas guilted him into realizing he hasnโt talked to his mother in a few weeks, or if he needs money, which prompts regular phone calls or at least a handful of text messages. He put his life on hold to help his older sister, and while Iโm beyond grateful for the sacrifices he continues to make, I wish heโd put himself first once in a while.
My middle daughter is the most perplexing. This young woman can stand toe-to-toe with the worst of humanity and force them to submit to her will, yet she continuously allows herself to be taken advantage ofโsometimes even volunteering for it. As a young mother of three, it infuriates me that she cannot put herself first, or at least somewhere in the lineup. Though I must admit, I know where that behavior comes fromโpot, meet kettle. Sheโs an amazing mother whose children bring her boundless joy and endless worry. If only she loved herself as much as she loves them. I constantly feel the need to protect her more than my sons because her heart is on display all the time for others in need.
Finally, thereโs my eldest. We grew up together. Every adventure I had as a young adult, she was along for the ride as my mini ride-or-die. If a mistake was to be made, I made it with her in tow. As she got older and started to pull away, I clung so tightly I probably left proverbial bruises. In true offspring fashion, she bolted as soon as she could and moved to California. Life brought her back home, giving me hope that Iโll still be needed, even if only in short spurts. Sheโs more like me than sheโd ever admit, with the primary difference being how we handle conflict. Iโm a โletโs talk it outโ person, while she is a โburn it all down and let God sort it outโ person.
Itโs interesting how much of myself I see in my children. Some of the best parts of their personality stemmed from the worst parts of mine. Their perception of me has shaped a lot of what they do. All four of my children are confrontational because their mother was not. They are all incredibly empathetic, often to their own detrimentโanother gift from dear old mom. I canโt take all the credit for who theyโve become, but as their sole parent, Iโm claiming most of it. Iโm so proud of who they are as people, as siblings, as my sons and daughters. Most of all, Iโm proud of the confidence with which they live their lives. Itโs on their terms, or not at all.
Perhaps, instead of wanting to teach them, I should be learning from them.
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