sometimes parenting is like that, isn’t it. today was certainly was of those days when I look at my daughter, listen to her words, and whilst I’m doing my best to remain a calm, supportive and loving mama, inside I’m chanting, “it is what it is … it is what it is … “
Julian reminds me – this is what parenting a teenager is like. The funniest thing is – I spent almost twenty years looking after other people’s teenagers in a girls’ boarding school. I listened to sensational stories that curled my toes, dealt with teenage angst that made me want to spit my teeth out (a really cool phrase one of the boarder parents taught me!) and narrowed my eyes as I wondered what to do next.
I might add, I also had hundreds of truly magical moments and I think fondly of countless girls every day and am grateful for the contribution they made to my life.
However, as much as I naively hoped to the contrary when Abby was little and I was learning so much about teenagers, today was one of those days when it doesn’t feel like ANY of it prepared me for parenting my own teenager.
Oh yes, it is what it is. And sometimes it can only be taken one day at a time, as gracefully as possible, with the constant reminder in the back of my mind that, this too will pass. What hurts or worries one day will surely get a little bit better the next.
So today … well, I made my bed, with the pillowcases I sewed yesterday …
… and the little embroidered pillow I’ve been working on for a few weeks … embroidered design from a fabulous French book of patterns that I’m too tired to fish out and name, woollen fabric from the thrift shop for $2, vintage lace from another thrift shop for about the same.
Julian wanted pillowcases that were all softly, softly, and simple. He says he needs the tranquility :-) So we have thick grey corduroy with the softest hint of lavendar for the big “I’m sitting up in bed reading” pillows. And an incredibly fine icy grey corduroy for the sleep-upon-me pillowcases.
And before the rain came down, I stretched and nailed out a needlepoint I finished when Abby was still in kindergarten … it began to drizzle a little before I finished. And yet, it was quite therapeutic.
Now, I’m off to bed with what I hope will be soothing for this tired spirit – some pawpaw gel for my winter-dry lips, and a book whose author was utterly entrancing on the radio the other day. Maybe he knows something about surviving our own teenagers :-)