As I sit at my son’s bedside, I’m struck by competing feelings of awe and melancholy. He’s grown so much in such a short time. I’m beginning to understand the perspective of my mother, often given to reminding me she remembers her children as they were and as they are.
I look at him and see the two year old laughing as he walked along the sidewalk with me on our way to play catch in the park. I see the 6 year old having his friends over for his first big birthday party. I see him now, full of such raw energy and new conflicting emotions. I say goodnight and watch him fade into sleep, burnt out from a full day of school, soccer, and endless FOMO.
Feeling a change in his expectations of me is an earth shattering reminder that he’s growing up. Sometimes he wants to be left alone. Sometimes he needs to ask a serious question and needs a long conversation to understand what he’s feeling. Sometimes he just wants to laugh and go to bed with a smile. Whatever he needs, I’m sitting here toeing the line between too much and not enough attention.
It’s right now I’m trying to reach back and remember what I wanted, needed when I was his age. It’s a bit fuzzy, but asking myself a few questions helps me prepare and cope with the internal fight against taking everything personal.
Is he tired?
The answer is often yes. He’s fighting to keep his eyes open and not making much sense as he mumbles half responses to simple questions. He’s had a long day and he likes to keep busy, so let him rest.
Did he go to bed frustrated?
He’s always at war with his sibling. He’s the elder, but that doesn’t stop him from feeling small when she’s demanding all of the attention. He may not need to talk about it, but he might appreciate a kind word and some understanding.
Is he not tired?
Is it the weekend. Does he still have some energy and want to do something. Hang out? Read? Draw? “Chill”? (as he says it) He may just not be ready for bed. We’re a family of busy minds, always creative and curious. Perhaps he needs a moment to occupy that restlessness or last bit of energy before finding his “cozy”.
Is he hungry?
I really hope not. He’s already eating through the entire fridge weekly, and then asking for more. If it’s late I can’t stuff him before passing out, so I have to consider earlier, bigger, different meals? Fuller snacks? Whatever the change in strategy, I have to do something to avoid finding random food wrappers in the bathroom the next morning. Evidence pointing to obvious pocketed or midnight snacks.
Did he eat too much?
Not likely. However, I had issues occasionally when I was young at going to hard at dinner and taking too long to let it settle. So maybe, again, look at the dinner strategy and timing.
Is he feeling ok?
I always try not to press here. I don’t want to sound overprotective and paranoid. Enough said.
Is something on his mind, something personal?
I often share short storied about when I was young. Sometimes to relate, sometimes for humor, and sometimes just to offer an opening for him to share something that might be on his mind. It works occasionally. When it does and he talks through is day and shares some new challenge, crush, or frustration, it it’s kind of amazing. We’re just having a chat. Father/son. Feelings. Funny things. Awkward. Awesome.
Am I tired? Should I leave him alone?
Probably.
*sigh*
As I get older, I do get a little paranoid at times. I do sometimes come off as overprotective. I’m not nosey, but I do like to ask a few questions now and again. My drive is simple. I want to be present. It’s all I’ve ever wanted. It’s my favorite part of having kids. To be allowed to be part of their growing worlds.
The hard part is figuring out where I’m going to fit within it.
The journey to find it is perilous and intimidating. I like the hard parts. The uncertainty.
The rewards are rich. The joy. The wins. The high fives and hugs. Watching them succeed or just be some kind of incredible humans.
The missteps infuriating. The misunderstanding. The youthful lack of focus. The inevitable exhaustion.
The effort?
Absolutely worth it.
There are always going to be the days when I’m just not up for it, not there, or at odds with the moods of others. That’s the challenge I’m up for.
Keeping it interesting. Keeping my distance.
-Tired Midwest Parents
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