What to tell yourself when you wonder what you've gotten yourself into!

I recently attended my son’s kindergarten program full of short, memorized lines and Christmas songs. I enjoyed it immensely for no other reason than that I got to watch my son’s sweet, intent face. As the room cleared out, the children returning to class and the parents to the parking lot, a mother rushed into the room. I noticed her first when her husband said, “Oh, sweetie.” She had covered her face but her husband knew she had started to cry. “I recorded the whole thing!” he promised her. “You’ll be able to see all of it!”

I had to leave the room before I started to cry, too.

I know the feeling all too well! As the mother of eight, I’ve seen more than my share of kindergarten programs, but that tug on your heart to be there for your child, to be there for everything . . . well, that never fades. Not ever. My oldest had that very week flown in an airplane for the first time—to another country—in a snow storm. And no one she knew was with her. I barely made it through the day! That tug on my heart, that physical demand that I be there for her, has not gone away even though she went and got herself all grown up. Nothing hurts more than this parenting gig, I tell you, but then, nothing has given me more either!

I find myself at a transition in my parenting. My oldest has left home and my youngest has started kindergarten and for the first time in twenty years, I don’t have a child at home with me for every hour of the day. I’ve given a lot of my life to parenting. But as I find myself with time—whole reliable blocks of it!—I’ve returned to blow the dust off some old pursuits. Some have been great fun to return to and some I find I just don’t care that much about anymore. I realize, standing at this point of my hike of life and looking back, that I’ve given up a lot to be a parent. Did I waste my time? Would my time have been better spent elsewhere? What do I have to show for it? What would I tell others when they wonder what they’ve gotten themselves into?

These three things I’ve gotten from parenting make up for all the years and the frustrations and the messes, the uncertainties, the pain, and the chaos:

1) People who love me. And boy howdee, do these people love me. There’s nothing in the world like a child’s love for his or her parents! It’s completely unconsidered. It’s just there. When they were babies, they would calm in my arms and no one else’s. As toddlers, they clung to my side in crowded rooms and followed me through the empty rooms of our own home. As children, their worried faces lit up when they finally caught my eye at their school performances. As teens, they cry on my shoulder with their disappointments and dance with me in the kitchen over their triumphs. They tell me they love me. Every. Day. When my second was in preschool and was asked what she wanted to be when she grew up, she responded, “I want to be a mom—with glasses.” Because I wore glasses. These people love me!

2) People I love. Does this seem like the same thing? Because it’s different. I think one of the hardest things in my life is when I feel like my feelings are deadened. Children save me from that. I always care. I care if the school is changing policy because it will affect them. I care if the country is in debt because it will affect them. I care if I’m a good example because it will affect them. Because I love them, I get up and take care of the house and the food and the clothes and it all gives me a little rush because I took care of them. I love them and it fills my heart and gives me reasons for living.

3) I’m a better person. Do I wish I had pursued a public accounting career? Do I wish I had spent more time writing? How about those skills that used to claim legions of my time in their development? I am definitely not the accountant I could’ve been if I had spent more time there than on my parenting. I could right now be a master in financial planning. So, I have not progressed there. Have I not progressed at all? On the contrary, my patience has increased, my understanding, my compassion have all increased by leaps and bounds. To me, these things were more rewarding to see take root in myself than any other progress academically, in terms of a career, or really anything else I can think of. Being a parent changes me on the inside and I love those changes.


So, I say that I wonder if my time would have been better spent elsewhere, but really, my heart balks at such a question immediately! These have been the best years of my life—the hardest, yes—frustrating, yes—painful even, yes—but, oh, so rewarding. For me, there was no possible better way for me to have spent my time and I will continue to spend as much time as I can . . . on parenting.