The weather this week has been absolutely delightful. With warm temperatures and clear skies, my family has embraced the outdoors to shake off the remnants of winter. What better way to enjoy the early spring than a visit to the park?
Taking four teenagers to the park feels quite different from those earlier days when our excursions involved much younger kids. My eldest, Jake, has just turned 20, a fact I’m still grappling with. Meanwhile, my youngest, Lily, is a notably dramatic 12-year-old. Thankfully, we no longer need to pack diaper bags or snacks, strap anyone into car seats, or remember favorite toys. We simply decided to go and set off without much thought.
However, once we arrived, I found myself at a loss. I no longer had to vigilantly supervise to ensure they didn’t endanger themselves or others. My attention was no longer split among multiple children. Instead, I spent an hour sitting on a park bench feeling somewhat aimless.
In the past, trips to the park were often overwhelming. I envisioned them as a chance to relax, unwind, and have fun, but they rarely turned out that way. Instead, I was hyper-aware of every little thing my children did, often feeling guilt and embarrassment as they said things that were too personal or awkward in front of strangers. I still remember the time Jake told a couple, “I saw my baby sister come out of my mom’s butt! It was soooo gross!”
What truly tested my patience were the incessant calls of “Hey, Mom! Take a look!” During our visits, Jake would shout this at least 47 times—from atop the slide, the monkey bars, and even right in front of me. As the oldest of four, I understood he craved my attention, which I couldn’t always provide due to my focus on the younger kids.
Yet, the plea for my undivided attention often frustrated me more than it probably should have. When a young child calls out for you to “watch this,” it’s highly likely that their next move will be less than impressive. Jake’s performances typically included awkward attempts at hopping, slow running, or just silly faces. Sometimes, they were simply his way of trying to engage me, pulling me from my own thoughts to connect with him, to truly see him.
“Are you watching, Mom?” he would check to ensure I was focused before executing whatever mundane feat he had in mind.
“I’m watching, buddy. Go ahead,” I would reply.
So, I watched him, even when his bunny hops and sand-covered antics didn’t exactly wow me. But that’s what we mothers do; we observe from park benches, even when we find it hard to pay attention.
This week at the park, Jake didn’t once ask me to “watch this.” Perhaps that’s why I felt out of place, as if I didn’t know where I belonged. He is leaving for the Army in just 13 days.
As we sat together on the bench, he was quiet, yet I could sense the whispers of his impending departure. As he prepares to spread his wings, he is on the cusp of significant change, and this time, his actions promise to be truly impressive—so much so that it’s difficult to watch.
“I’m watching, buddy. Go ahead…”
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In summary, as children grow older, the dynamics of parenting shift. The park, once a source of stress, becomes a place of reflection on the profound changes ahead.
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