When a fellow mom prefaces advice with those two words, "Just Wait," I want to smack her a little. I hear it quite often, because gobs of people have lived through motherhood longer than I have. The truth is, no matter what stage of motherhood a woman is in, her future shouldn't be discussed with fear and annoyance. Her present is hard enough as it is, so how does it help anybody to dismiss what's happening now and indicate it's only going to be worse someday?
We have all heard horror stories about the teen years. We shouldn't trek blindly or naively without being prepared for the worst, because some of the worst is surely going to happen. Our paths will be tumultuous. The terrain will be rocky. We'll cross wide, gaping holes without bridges. Slippery hills and uneven ground will bring us to a halt at times. We know. Veteran moms don't need to warn us. We were teenagers not so long ago ourselves. Our husbands were boys, and we were girls. If we really tried, we could recall all of our crazy stunts and the poor decisions we made as teens. We can't believe our own parents survived. We are baffled that we were never kidnapped or lost or worse. We know, Just-Wait-Warning moms. We know what's coming.
As we sit around waiting for the worst, we can try to appreciate the best of our teens. These curious creatures are still the same babies who once were merely a dream to a newlywed couple. We can still see the glow in their eyes and dimples in their cheeks reminiscent of the toddler years. Their sense of humor has wittily evolved from that of the second-grader who loved the tired old Knock-Knock Orange and Banana joke.
Bits of the worst may be in our future, but for now, I'd like to share how I learned to appreciate the wonder of my present teen while picking up dirty laundry.
Laundry is an issue for our family...you know this because I've told you how my system moved from highly inefficient to simply okay. Six people create many loads of laundry, so each child has a hamper in his or her room. Our rule for the past year has been that each child should be placing dirty clothing into said hamper. It sounds simple, yet they do not always do it. Many days, I find clothes and pajamas behind the bathroom door, draping down the stairs, next to the basement couch and in every mom's favorite place: on the floor right next to the hamper. Right next to it! Many times I've been infuriated by this practice. I've beckoned for children to run up two flights of stairs, for the sole purpose of reminding them of proper laundry rules and insisting they follow the rules right then and there. I've cursed under my breath for the inconvenience. I've thrown my hands up in the air, wondering, Will they ever do it the right way? My way?
Some days, I am surprised when I find hampers full of clothes and floors cleared of the heaps of socks and undies. I do love and appreciate those days.
It was one typical day when the clothes were lying beside the hamper when I woke up to my teenage blessing. The sun was shining through the windows, which is pretty rare in our town during winter, so I was in an especially inspired mood. Everybody was at school and work. My Broadway Showtunes Pandora station was cranked up to a volume nobody in the house but I could tolerate. Seeing the jumbled mess of clothes next to the hamper, when nobody but I was home to move them, jolted me.
For a split second, I grumpily thought I should leave them on the floor until school was over, then make darn sure the offending child placed them where they belonged. Then, my mama heart softened as I realized that I will not be cleaning up clothes forever. Someday, there will be nothing left on the floor. The kids will be grown and gone, and I'll long for the days when I could pick up after my babies. My kids. My teens.
There will be no toothpaste on the sink. No unmade beds. No Lego pieces. No evidence of children...anywhere.
I started to cry. I began to mourn the years that are slipping away from us as fast as rockets, and I slowly and deliberately picked up each piece of smelly clothing from the floor. As I dropped them into the hamper, I said these words out loud:
"Thank you for sending me these children. Thank you for keeping them healthy. Thank you for everything we have, even the messes. Please keep them safe. Please keep them healthy. Please help them know how much I love being their mom. Please keep them mine."
As we learn to navigate our new roles as moms to teens, I hope we'll be strong in remembering how much these kiddos still need us. They aren't grown up yet. They forget. They are tired. They want to hang out with friends or read or watch their favorite shows. They're kids. They probably loathe laundry as much as we do.
One of my best friends gave me a cherished recipe, with these words of words of wisdom taped to the back of the card:
