Motherhood: A Series of Goodbyes

I have realized recently that motherhood is a series of goodbyes. I had no idea when I got into this mothering thing that I would be expected to function in a perpetual state of farewell.

I remember a few of the early goodbyes - goodbye to the breast pump (that was a very tough one because it was the last physical link between she and I. It was absolutely excruciating.) Then there was a funny goodbye at age 2 when she lanquidly pointed from her prone position on the recliner and demanded, "Hand me that blankie, mommy!" I laughed in awe and good humor at this tiny, regal creature and told her to get up and get it herself. Goodbye infant; helllllooooo, Toddler!

Now she is almost 13 and I still fall back onto my backside in shock at times. Yes, yes, another day, another goodbye. It seems I am constantly meeting another version of my daughter - vaguely familiar, but not at all the same person she was a mere 20 minutes ago. 

So this is life with a teenager. Yikes! I don't think I'll be able to keep up. 

Christmas has just passed and I can see that she has been catered to far too much over the holiday. She is demanding and difficult. She wants to go somewhere and does not understand why I do not joyfully leap up from folding clothes (HER clothes) and turn cartwheels to the car, rejoicing in turning over my entire wallet to her to frolic through the mall like a nymph tossing my dollars into the air like leaves.  WHAT is my problem?  It is apparent to anyone breathing that I deserve the most vile of punishments for not jumping at the opportunity to give her all my money, drive her around whereever she wants to go to do whatever she wants to do.

Funny, I do not remember my mother showing the slightest inclination to jump when I spoke. Though she swears we had the same struggles. Still, I find myself baffled by this strange restless guilt (is that GUILT?!) that I am not doing what makes my daughter happy. I want my daughter to be happy. Ummm, why is that?

And so here we go with another goodbye. Goodbye to the idea that my daughter's happiness should be foremost. No, no, no. Not at all. Actually, what is really BEST for my daughter now, at this age and time in her life, is a little bit of hardship. Otherwise, she will not have the depth of character to deal with adversity. She will not even know her own ability to overcome if she never struggles to firm up her mental muscles of perseverance. I fear she has been somewhat deprived of this opportunity. She needs to groooowwwww. And it is my job to see that this takes place - with God's help, of course.  Most of it is in His hands, not mine. But I've been discussing it with Him lately. I know He'll give me the discernment I need to do my part and He'll do the rest.  

I am very grateful that she had a childhood with emotional stability and security. There is no substitute for her adult wellbeing than those first years of life being loved, secure and safe. But now comes the consequences of life. The consequences are both of ours to bear. I now realize that I will be losing her love for awhile as I ensure her higher good by demanding that she rise to the occasion. Sadly, I see perhaps a kind of permanent goodbye in this . . . a goodbye that may last until we arrive in heaven one day.  I have to risk losing her from now on to give her the best shot at life that she can have.  Perhaps I must be the bad guy unless God provides another dupe for this unsavory business. 

And now, before I go for the night (because I am very sleepy), I find myself wondering . . . Did my very own mother make this same choice? Did she sacrifice herself and our relationship in order to strengthen me for my own future?  And if she did, isn't it time I acknowledged it (at 42 years of age) and finally let her off the hook for it? Thanks, Mom. Oh my gracious, THANKS.