Parenting. Never have I derived so much satisfaction from something I’m so terrible at. I really enjoy watching my kids grow and mature and begin showing signs of becoming competent adults. And I cringe whenever they display some negative behavior that I can point to and say, “Oops, they get that from me.” They have a good mother, otherwise these poor souls would be doomed.
But let’s face it, it makes no sense. I don’t get this much satisfaction from my work, and I’m actually fairly good at that. Nor do I get this level of satisfaction from most other things I’m terrible at. (Husbanding comes close, mind you, but fortunately my wife is an adult (which is more than we can say about me), so it’s harder for me to ruin her.)
It’s strange to think that we’re in the “home stretch”. Our youngest is eleven, and in eleven more years they should all probably be on their own. My brother and his wife seem to be handling “empty nesting” okay, so I suppose it’s nothing to fear, but it just seems…weird. And a little panicky. I’m running out of time to try and fix my mistakes, and to give them final instructions. And at times it seems like they’re running so fast I can’t keep up. “Hey, wait for me! I can help you with that!”
So what’s got me so maudlin? I’ve had several chances this week to view my kids in their natural, non-home environments. We’re nearing the end of the school year, so there have been a lot of “final concerts” to attend. I’ve been able to watch my kids from a distance and see how they interact with their peers and their teachers. It’s enlightening, and reassuring. I’ve got good kids. I think they’ll turn out okay. I just need to enjoy them while I still can.