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Here We Go Again
John P. Beavers Three years ago when my daughter, Meredith, graduated from high school, I discovered that I finally got this parenting thing figured out. The kid fights his or her whole childhood for independence, and the parent struggles his or her whole parenthood learning to let go. I made this discovery after Meredith had spent pretty much her last year of high school distancing herself from both home and parents.
Well, it's time for the second and last to leave the nest. Like Meredith, Kristen has been distancing herself from both her home and parents. Unlike Meredith who didn't start this “distancing” thing until her senior year of high school, Kristen has been doing all that since age 16! She has driven so many miles since she got her driver's license that she single-handedly has caused this winter's gas shortage. And she has spent so much time while “on the go” using her cell phone that she wore it out, and we had to get her a new one . . . appropriately this time from “Sprint.”
At first I thought this “distancing” thing was hormonal, sort of the complement to a women's “nesting” instinct. But one of my partners who has mothered sons assures me that “you're just kidding yourself if you believe that! Boys do it as much as girls.”
Susan had a much easier time letting go of Meredith than I. I figured that mothers have more practice letting go. Susan was the first to let go when Meredith left the womb. She let go when we weaned Meredith from breast-feeding. And as is often the case between mothers and daughters, she was the first to let go when Meredith's hormones began to flow.
Being the second child has its pluses and minuses. For Meredith's first years at home, we handled her with care because we thought she would break. For Kristen's, we tried things to see if we could get her to break. For Meredith's last years at home, we were still learning the parenting thing and our attention was divided between the two. For Kristen's last years at home, she had our full-time attention to test whether we had perfected the “parenting thing.”
As we approached the final few months with Kristen, I took a different approach than with Meredith. I decided I'd try to let go first! In fact, I decided to push along this “distancing” thing.
I started by growing a beard. This was as much of an annoyance to Kristen as having my razor dulled from her shaving her legs is to me.
I ate a clove of garlic daily. Not only did it lower my cholesterol, but it gave an aroma that made her run and hide.
Then there's the cowboy hat. Kristen's generation never appreciated Roy Rogers or Gene Autry. In fact, I added the hat with the beard to model myself on Gabby Hayes. At first I pondered a beaver hat like Davy Crocket's, but even I am afraid of the connotation that may give.
And I bought spandex-waist jeans that I wore hiked up over my stomach, just below my chest, so that the cuffs barely reached the middle of my calves. This was in contrast to her baggy, grunge, khakis look.
I'm planning on becoming a “buddy” to her boy friends. I thought I'd invite them to a boys' night out at the Schott or Nationwide Arena. And when with them, I will confuse their names, calling Pat “Gabe” and Zack “Matt.”
I started to answer the telephone again even though no calls were for me. And I began to screen her calls by snarling “What do you want?” I opened all mail . . . and leaving it strewn over the house in the same way she has mine over the years. And I canceled our AOL account, especially Instant Messages and email, and replacing them with pen, paper, and stamps. The only thing more annoying to me than her dulling my razors is having her tie up both the computer Instant-Messaging her friends as well as the phone talking to the same persons!
And I started to ask her almost as frequently as she asks me: “Hey, can I have 10 bucks for dinner?” I have discovered even when I say “no,” she always is able to find a reserve of her own.
It took the first 18 years of parenting to figure out that kids spend their whole childhood preparing to leave. It took 2 years learning to let go of my first. With my last, I know that I need to let go earlier. But knowing that hasn't made it any easier.
So after doing all of this, I have now shaved my beard; put away my cowboy hat and spandex-waist jeans; changed my diet; quit being buddy to her friends; stopped answering the phone; and resumed paying for dinner. I want to be able to let her go, but I don't want to drive her away.
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