The Days Are Long, But The Years Are Short: Thoughts On Preparing To Launch

Yes. Those of us who are parents are well aware that the saying in the title is true. Doesn't matter if you have a kid who is only 1 or if you're an empty-nester. If your kid is 1, well, there were some long days and nights, but the year flew by. If you're an empty-nester, you remember walking your kid to school and now they're arranging flights for their family to come see you for the holidays. In both cases, it seems like you blinked and your parenting role changed.

And, not that I haven't enjoyed every stage of it thus far. I somehow enjoyed those late-night feedings when I could turn on SportsCenter (sound off) and give a bottle, listening to nothing but those soft grunts while they inhaled Infamil...looking into their eyes and rocking them, glancing every now and then at the sports updates. I loved playing legos and Candyland. I enjoyed putting the dog on the leash and walking with them to school. I enjoyed the ins-and-outs of elementary school years. Even middle school was relatively enjoyable in my world. High school, thus far, has been a pleasant surprise. I've learned that teens don't have to rebel and actually will rise to meet most reasonable expectations and will respond pretty well to any and all attempts to develop a relationship and will be pretty quick to forgive.

And, yes, I've always been pretty clear with my kids that my expectation is that they will leave. I'm okay with that. Parenting, as I see it, is about helping them become relatively well-adjusted adults who are doing what God wired them to do and then letting them do that. It's a season of life. So, in that regard, I'm well-aware that both of my teens are in process of independence. It's a delicate dance of trust & teaching, these high school years. Balance of space and oversight. It takes more effort and involvement (why many parents disengage at this point is beyond me) and at the same time knowing when to keep a distance. Sometimes you win, sometimes you lose. That's what makes it a great game.

What sparked all this reflection, you might be asking?

Well, I've noticed that these thoughts come without warning. When you least expect them. Usually in the normal goings-on of life.

Yesterday couldn't have been more normal. Kid1 off shopping for a prom dress with friends. Kid2 and the Smokin' Hot Shutterbug Trophy Wife off at dance. Yard work for me.

Lawn mowed.
Remnants of storms swept and bagged.
Weeds eated.
And some extra time as no one else is around, the weather is nice and I decide to put in those extra couple of hours you have to do early in the springtime.

In this case, a sledge hammer was involved. I cut the small ropes that held the lattice work in place. I carefully knocked wood apart and hammered the rusty nails flat for safety reasons. I put the lattice out by the street in nice piles. The wood came apart easier than I thought it would but I still payed a lot more attention to what I was doing because let's face it: I'm not getting any younger. In my younger days it would've been all-sledge, brut force. Yesterday was calm and meticulous.

This is in large part because, when you're taking apart the little "garden playhouse" you put together a decade ago & it hasn't been used in about half a decade...

...and Kid1 has come in, with the perfect prom dress, and is now Mapquesting directions to a downtown Dallas restaurant where she'll be meeting friends later. In that delicate balance, you remind her of a few parking rules and single-girl-downtown safety precautions on your water break...

...well, maybe I took the tedious approach to dismantling the garden playhouse because it felt like I was sledge-hammering away that childhood phase.

It was too nice an afternoon.

It was too nice to see the kids doing their teenage things.

It was too nice to savor those memories.

It was too nice a moment to hurry or muscle.

And after the slower-than-necessary work was completed, I left the swing set standing. Don't get me wrong, folks. It'll come down, too. Likely Monday. But sometimes you have to go slower...

...because you remember how you kinda went into debt for that swing set.
...and how you wanted to put it together for your girls even though you're not good at that sort of thing.
...and because you felt that strongly about it you barked at your wife when she came out to help you because she is good at that sort of thing but you were spending so much time with textbooks you felt guilty and like you "owed" your girls this.
...and how it went from something they played with their friends on to the place where the took the phone to have some privacy while they talked to their friends to know where it's rusted and just gets in the way when you're trying to mow.

...these things take time, folks.

And, while I'm blinking and the years are passing, maybe...

...just maybe...

...I want to savor those memories and smell these roses.