Another milestone has been reached in my home. Kid has passed The Driving Test.
Let me say that said Kid is, of course, thrilled. Said Child has also promised me there will be only one other kid (if any) in the car, there will be no texting and driving, there will be NO drinking and driving, AND this Kid will gladly split gas with me since I’m the “lucky” (?) person who gets to share the car with this Kid.
Anyone want to start the betting pool how long this Nirvana is going to last?
I have a few Kids. One is heading out of the teens (praise Jesus!). I actually “get” why, decades ago, people married their kids off at a younger age. Stick two teenagers in the same house, make them earn a living, have the hormones go wild and, oh yeah, let the two of THEM deal with each other’s teenage-ness.
I love my Kids. I do. They’re good human beings; they’re intelligent, funny, well liked, and kind. I’d like to think I had something to do with that, but if I take the credit for that, then I have to take some responsibility for that “teenager-ness,” don’t I? And I really don’t want to take responsibility for that.
Of course, I did sass my mom. I was a good kid, excellent student, involved in a bunch of activities, didn’t drink or anything else that would give my mom a heart attack and make my father lock me in my room until I was thirty (you know, old…), but I had my idea of how I wanted to live my life and of course my parents didn’t know anything… Yes, Mom and I clashed. Dad and I… well, let’s just say that his nickname for me was “Princess.” 'Nuff said. (Hence my tiara collection…)
But yeah, Mom and I butted heads. It doesn’t help that I got my Italian from her. Passionate, loud, and emotional. For as ferociously as we love each other now, we were just as much at odds. Okay, maybe I was at odds and she was just trying to make sure I lived to that ripe old age.
Mom and I finally worked out our differences when I was twenty-one. I suddenly saw her as having some intelligence—more than I’d given her credit for—and she’d acknowledged that I actually did have some good ideas and maybe could do this Life thing for myself (with her as a safety net of course). When I held my first Kid, alone in my hospital room after a C-section, Mom walked in. I looked at her with tears in my eyes and love overflowing in my heart and said, “Oh my God. You love me this much!” And she smiled, cried, and said, “Yes. I do. You finally understand.” And then I said, “I’m so sorry for all the grief I gave you.”
So now that my youngest is in those “lovely” teen years (and driving…), I have a count-down going. Child, in one of those “lovely” teenager moments, snarled at me and said, "I can’t believe you’re counting the days until I move out.”
I looked at Kid (whom, amazingly enough, I still love through this “fun” time), and said, “No I’m not. I’m counting down the days until you like me again.”
Considering the Kid is out with MY car as I write this on a Friday night, Kid is liking me A LOT.
Of course, Kid isn’t here to share the love. And I’m actually enjoying the quiet.
So… question for the day: What’s your “teenager moment” that you want to apologize for to your parents?