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Community Corner

The Perils of Parenting, From Toddlers To Teens

It's never easy, whether you're changing diapers or giving college advice--but there's something to be said for watching your kids oh so gradually become adults.

I don’t care if you’re the parents of toddlers or teens…this job is exhausting.  It’s the daily grind of getting up, feeding, driving, wiping, cleaning, making lunches, listening, wiping again and finally falling into bed so tired it hurts.  It’s laying on the bathroom floor with them, washing cuts that you know need some sort of medical attention that you’re too tired to deal with and examining the inside of a Kleenex that’s been freshly blown into—you know, because there’s difference if it’s green or yellow.

I think I’m getting tired writing this.

There’s definitely a difference however, in parenting teens and parenting young kids.  While my youngest baby is 13, my sister’s babies are finally 7 and for years we’ve been laughing about the huge differences between “Big Town” (where I ‘live’) and “Little Town” (where she ‘lives’).  Little Town has little problems like gum in their hair, markers on the wall and crayon pieces in their nose.  Big Town has quality drama and it’s own reality series called, “Junior High.”  There’s nothing funnier than watching my sister deal with a twin fight over which Barbie gets which shoe, and she finds it very entertaining to watch me explain MTV’s ingenuous program, 16 and Pregnant and WHY WE DON’T DO THAT.  

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We have close friends who chose to pursue their careers and had children a bit later then we did.  It’s hard to look at 50; forget about the fact that you’re the oldest mom in the room for the Halloween sing and no, that’s not a mask….those are Mommy’s smile lines.  When my daughter started preschool, you would have thought I was the AARP Mom.  There was one mom who was so young, that when I was giving birth to my oldest, she was starting junior high.  We definitely were not going to be friends. 

The more serious point is that as physically challenging as it is breaking up a twin fight, it is just as emotionally challenging trying to explain to your teenage children why some kids need to cut themselves or drink until they feel better.  We are constantly worried about their happiness, their safety and the decisions that they make.  We are always waiting for the garage door to open late on a Saturday night.  My sister chases, does more laundry than anyone I know and can recite the entire soundtrack to Annie while changing her voice from Rooster to Ms. Hannigan…and that’s just before 8 am.  We both appreciate the humor in what we have to do and it makes babysitting each other’s kids that much more enjoyable.  I remember what it’s like.  She sees what’s coming next.

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Parenting in Big Town and Little Town is equally stressful, and both situations take all the energy we have, give or take how much coffee we’ve had so far.  I don’t want to go back, though.  I love the stage where I’m at because while I miss that warm smell of a little one sleeping next to me, I love being able to sleep.  And while I miss the wonder of watching little ones grow, I am excited to see the people that my teens are evolving into.  I’m very grateful that I have my nieces and nephews to be with when I need that fix. 

But I’m just as grateful throwing my son the keys and letting him drive.  

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