Category: Life

Let’s talk about pressure.

Not physical pressure.

Not work pressure.

Parental pressure.

How much pressure should we put on our children? Or, how much pressure should we NOT put on our children?

This is a topic that has haunted me (literally, I’ve had nightmares about it) for years.

Years.

For those of you that don’t know, I’m a controlling personality. Wait. I don’t feel like you’re getting the intensity of that statement.

I HAVE A CONTROLLING PERSONALITY.

I have to be in control. Period. There is no compromise. There are no questions. I’m in charge. I will listen. I will judge fairly. But in the end, the outcome is what I’VE decided.

Some people have called me strong willed. Some people have called me stubborn. Some people have called me the “B” word.

And they’re all right.

However, I like to call a spade and spade and the bottom line?

I HAVE A CONTROLLING PERSONALITY.

Sorry. I don’t mean to get all up in your face or anything, but I really can’t stress this (character flaw?) enough.

I am not proud of this fact. I’m not. And though it has served me well in a lot of situations, it has also caused me a lot of heart ache along the way, too.

Like now, for example.

I denied this for a very long time, but I was a helicopter parent.

*waves*

I was always hovering over my boys. I never really ALLOWED them to be boys, to make their own mistakes, to experiment and just BE kids. I yelled way too much. I made mountains over the stupidest mole hills. I was uptight, cranky and really not a fun person to be around.

I sat down and made sure they did their homework every night. I checked it over. I made them do problems over again. I remember sitting with them for hours and going over spelling words. And I mean to the point of exhausting them, me, and making us both cry. (I have to say though that they’re both really good spellers, so I suppose all of that grinding did some good).

I have no idea WHY I felt so compelled to push things, but push them I did.

As a result? My boys couldn’t make a decision on their own. They were too used to ME doing their thinking FOR them. You can’t blame them, the blame lies entirely with me. I was the controlling factor in their timidity – quite literally.

It really didn’t hit me that I needed to back OFF until they reached middle school. Dude started middle school and just sort of expected me to do his homework for him. It wasn’t until that point did I start thinking about long term. Were they going to be THIS dependent when they got into high school? Wasn’t I hurting them by not allowing them to make their own mistakes?

So, I started backing off. Bit by bit, I pushed them out of my shadow. It was a hard break, for both me and the boys. But it was necessary.

There have been a lot of tears, a lot of frustration (from all three of us), and a lot of hard lessons to learn, but in the end, here we are – high school.

I think because I went SO overboard on the pressure thing when they were little, I’ve been even more conscious to ease off the pressure now. I still give them advice, but now they are free to take it or leave it. Before, they didn’t have the luxury of saying no, they were just expected to do whatever it was that I expected from them.

And even though life is A LOT more relaxed than it was a few years ago, I still worry. I agonize over their futures. I want them to be happy, but I also want them to be successful and comfortable.

Please do not assume, for even ONE second, that I have this parenting thing figured out. I grapple, on a daily basis, on whether or not I’m doing, or saying the right thing. I want them to do their best, but I want them to be realistic, too.

For example – not every kid is capable of making A’s. Again, I’ve learned this the hard way. Dude is not the best at math. He never has been. I’ve finally accepted the fact that math is a real struggle for him. And the grades he earns? Are not A’s. This does not mean he’s a failure at life. This only means that he struggles with this one area of his life.

BUT, even though we have had lengthy talks about this, and I KNOW he’s tried and he truly wants to please me and Kevin, I always wonder if he’s trying enough. If we’re being too lenient on him. Could he do better?

Again. It’s not just about the grades. I want him to learn that anything worth having is worth working for. I want him to experience that bitter/sweet victory of conquering something he was ready to give up on. And though I realize that I can’t give that gift to him, that he’ll have to earn it, it doesn’t help ME as far as how far and how hard to push him to get there.

I’ve been on one end of the pressure spectrum. It was not fun. I do not want to go back there. I want to be somewhere in the middle. My problem is? I have NO CLUE where the middle of the spectrum is.

Precisely how far is too far to pressure your kids? I realize that it differs with each child, but here I am, a 43-year old woman with a 17-year old and a 15-year old and I STILL haven’t figured it out yet. And I should be fair, it changes as they get older.

But the not knowing – it both confuses and exasperates me.

I expect them to do well in school. I firmly believe that teaching them to try their best, to push themselves, will benefit them in life. But at the same time, I don’t want to put so much pressure on them that they simply give up.

I don’t want to break their spirits. And to be perfectly honest, I think I have gotten very, very close to doing that in the past. Which is all the more reason I’m determined to chill out and simply concentrate on supporting them. They know my expectations by now. There is no need for me to remind them every day. I think my role now, is to simply encourage them. To do their best. To pick the classes they want to take. To pursue the interests they are interested in. To keep my mouth shut if they choose something outside the realm of my expectations.

My sole mission now is to allow them to simply be who they were meant to be.

I need to let them go.

I HAVE let them go.

Hi. This is me and my baby:

Yes. My baby. Who is 15 years old today!!

Fifteen. Wow. That still just blows my mind.

This mischievous imp,

this adorably charming boy,

has really grown into a smart, handsome, talented young man.

He loves everything to do with Zelda and Mario. He LIVES (his words, not mine) for jazz. He’s one talented saxophone player and routinely moves me to tears when I watch him perform.

He’s warm, goofy, compassionate, considerate and a loud talker (I tease him about that all the time). He looks nothing like me and every bit like his father. He’s fiercely independent and sometimes unreasonably stubborn. He doesn’t like to ask for help and most often will not ask, even when he should.

He has many girl “friends” and I suspect it won’t be long before he brings home a GIRLfriend.

He’s my baby.

We’ve been spending a pretty quiet day at home. We allowed him to have two friends over, but one of them couldn’t make it. He’s been having fun just hanging out and being silly.

In other words, typical teenage stuff. 😀

It’s nearly time to take them to the arcade. It’s called 1984 and it’s filled with 80’s-type pinball and arcade games. Jazz has been there before for another birthday party and said it was pretty fun.

We’ll spend a few hours over there before heading to Zios (Italian restaurant) for dinner. Then back home for cookie cake and ice cream.

Birthdays are pretty low key at our house.

Happy birthday, Jazz. We love you!

It’s official, Dude has been assimilated into society; he finally got his driver’s license.

I’m not sure if that’s a reason to celebrate or not.

This whole driving issue has been … interesting. On one hand, the kid is going on 18, it’s time to get his driver’s license. But on the other hand, why are we pushing him? I mean, it’s more stress on us (where is he, is he okay?), and certainly more expensive (our insurance just went up by half – ouch). But I guess we’re trying to conform to society’s idea of what is “normal” and we pushed for it. (Though I’m still not convinced that kids under 18 are mature enough to get their licenses to begin with).

In addition, Dude simply didn’t care about driving or getting his license. He still doesn’t care. He’s never cared about driving because as he puts it, “Where do I have to go?” He’s comfortable at home. He has everything he needs. All of his friends get online so he interacts with them there. He’s happy to be a hermit.

And I can’t say that I blame the kid. I’m the same way. I’m a homebody – I like to stay home and just hang out. I’ve never been one to go, go, go. (I mean, I HAVE, but given the choice, I’d rather just stay put).

One part of me wanted him to get it, the other part wanted him to remain dependent and innocent. But I can’t hold the kid back – he needs to take this first step into manhood. And I’ll be honest, it concerns me a bit that he doesn’t have the motivation to WANT to do anything other than to sit on his butt and play video games.

I’ve had to push for this from the very first step. I had to push him to get his permit, I had to push him to practice (there wasn’t really any complaining, but I got a lot of irritated grunts), and I had to push him to get his license. His permit expired this week – it was time, he was ready, but he could care less about the whole thing.

I’m having a hard time relating to his laissez faire attitude. I remember I couldn’t wait to get a car and I remember feeling powerful and so independent when it finally happened. (Of course, it got me into trouble, but that’s another story). I couldn’t wait to get out into the world and DO something.

Dude is not like that. At all. In fact, I’m pretty certain that when it comes time to get a job, I’ll have to push him into that arena, too.

I’ve already had to push him into taking the ACT test. (Which is coming up April 10th). Not that I expect him to go to college, though I think he should give it one year, but if he decides to go to college, he’ll have that requirement out of the way.

I don’t understand this kid’s unwillingness to grow up. I don’t understand my desire to SEE him grow up so fast.

It’s a confusing tug o’ war.

At any rate …

One of Dude’s friends recommended taking the test in Republic. He said it wasn’t as busy as Springfield and the route was a lot easier – he wouldn’t have to worry about 20 mph speeds or one-way streets.

So, we took him up on that suggestion. Dude and I went up to Republic Tuesday to take his test.

And we realized, after waiting for THREE hours, it was a huge mistake.

Republic only tests Tuesdays and Fridays. I have no idea why – maybe it’s because they’re a smaller town and there’s not as much of a demand to offer it every day, maybe they simply don’t have the funds to offer it every day. Who knows. But we went on Tuesday.

And considering this is spring break for nearly every area school? We weren’t the only people to have this idea.

We waited for three hours.

Three looooooong hours of hanging around a community center until it was his turn. (We even had time to go to lunch, come back and STILL wait two hours).

That was probably three of the longest hours of my entire life.

Finally, it was Dude’s turn.

In some ways, it was a good thing that we had to wait so long. It gave Dude a chance to settle down and control his nerves. He’s a really nervous kid. He doesn’t like putting himself in any situation where he feels like he’s not in 100% control. (I wonder where he gets that from). As a result, he doesn’t like to drive, ride a bike, or fly. All of those activities freak him out because there is a possibility of something happening to him.

Which is understandable, there is a risk, but there’s a risk that your hair dryer will blow up in your face when you dry your hair in the morning, too. Life is full of risks. You can’t hide in your room all your life to avoid these risks, either.

That is Dude’s biggest obstacle, his fear of the unknown. So you can imagine what teaching Dude has been like. As long as I told him what to do, what to think, he was okay. But the moment I shrugged and said, “you’re the driver,” he would freak out.

Part of his attitude has been my fault. I’ve over protected the boy. No question about it. I HAVE done his thinking for him. I HAVEN’T allowed him to simply be himself and that is something I bitterly regret. Don’t be a helicopter parent – trust me on this. But some of it has to do with genetics. Nervous personalities sort of run in our family, too.

So it’s been a challenge to try and teach Dude to work through those fears. It’s like Kevin says, “the best way to teach him to get over that fear is to face it.”

Forcing him to take this driver’s test was certainly forcing him to face one of his fears.

He’s a good driver, don’t get me wrong, but if something unusual happens (construction, accident), he freaks out. He’s terrified of making the wrong decision and I keep telling him, that’s just part of life. Ninety-seven percent of the time, he’ll make the right decision. But there will come a point when that other three percent will happen. He will make a wrong decision, he’s only human.

And that’s another issue, his personal feelings of failure if he’s not perfect. Again. Totally my fault. I’ve expected him to be perfect, I guess. I’ve been trying, especially these last several years, to ease up on my expectations. Which has been hard, because I don’t want the kid not to give his best, but there comes a time when you just have to call it quits.

Trying to find that balance with him has been soooooo hard for me. He gives up easily. And we all know that life requires more effort than that. So, how do you teach your children to try their best but that it’s okay, at some point, to accept second best?

I wasn’t worried that he wouldn’t know the rules. I wasn’t worried about his actual driving, if anything, he tends to lean toward the timid side of driving, but I was worried that he would work himself up to such a lather that his nerves would ultimately be his undoing.

My heart pounded for him the entire time he was gone. In fact, I felt out of breath when he finally returned. After watching several other kids go through this routine, I knew that if the kid came back in to get me, and the instructor waited outside, it meant failure. But if the kid walked in with the instructor, that meant they passed.

I pictured Dude walking in with the instructor. I could see it in my mind’s eye. I KNEW it would happen. I’ve watched so many kids his age around his school driving to and from school and they’re just … terrible drivers. He is such a good driver when compared to his peers, he really is. He would totally be fine … if he could just get past his nervousness.

The doors opened. I saw Dude and the instructor walk in. My heart jumped. He passed!

“Mom, let’s talk,” the instructor said.

My heart plummeted. He didn’t pass.

We walked into the testing room and the instructor faced me.

“I’m going to pass him, but there are a few things he needs to watch out for,” he said. “He failed to signal in the parking lot (??), he failed to look and signal as we passed a stationary truck in our lane, and he went a little too fast – 35 in a 30 mph zone.”

I blinked. To me, these were nit picky things, but I wasn’t about to dispute him.

“Okay.” Really, what else could I say?

I mean, I KNOW you have to do everything by the book when you take that test, exaggerate the looking in the mirrors, use your signal for EVERYTHING, keep the speed under the speed limit and wait a full three seconds at stop signs, but honestly, who drives like that?

Anyway, he passed. And we were both relieved. I knew that he didn’t do some of those things because he was nervous – I mean, who doesn’t get nervous with a strange person sitting next to you, writing things down and only telling you turn here, or stop here. It’s nerve wracking for anyone.

And though I’m glad he passed his test, I’m MORE proud of him because he faced his fear and conquered it. (He was so pale after the test I thought he might pass out – seriously). I know this is only one baby step to the rest of his life, but it’s a beginning.

In addition to praising him for passing, I also made a (big) point of making sure he was proud of himself. Taking that test was about so much more than the actual driving part for Dude – it was about managing himself and getting through something that honest to God scared him.

We can now cross one battle off his life score card.

Congratulations, Dude. You did it!