I had a panic attack at dinner recently.
It wasn’t the dinner.
The fried chicken may cause a heart attack.
But not a panic attack.
The source of my palpitations was the conversation.
Specifically one comment.
Made by my 14-year old daughter.
She informed us that she just celebrated her half birthday.
Who’s counting?
Apparently she is.
Counting down the days to her 15th birthday.
When she gets her driver’s permit.
OY VEY.
For those of you south of Brooklyn...
...that’s french for HOLY SH*T!
It’s one thing that my first born is now in high school.
It’s another thing that my little girl is taller than her mom.
Five inches taller.
But driving?
A car?
Are you kidding?
Apparently she will be starting her driver’s ed class.
In a couple of weeks.
So that she can get her driver’s permit.
In a couple of months.
Now before you start getting any ideas here.
I’m definitely not one of THOSE parents who is trying to lock their kids in a box.
Hoping that they never grow up.
I have honestly enjoyed every single phase of their life.
Ok, I don’t miss the 3:37am diaper change.
But beyond that, I’m good.
I’ve always tried to live one moment at a time.
Yesterday was great.
Tomorrow will be even better.
It’s just today that I seem to struggle with.
Especially when it comes to the eldest in my trio.
With her, I’m experiencing everything for the first time.
EVERYTHING.
She’s the first child.
The first daughter.
The first teenager.
The first to high school.
And she’ll be the first to leave the house.
But let’s not go there yet.
Please.
Even though I try to lead with my head.
It’s my heart that gets broken.
I’ve had several jobs in my life.
But no job is more difficult than that of a parent.
Especially that of a high school parent.
I not only need to know what to say.
But when to say it.
How to say it.
Where to say it.
And why I’m saying it.
More times than not I get at least three of those wrong.
Not a good percentage.
A failing grade.
I definitely can’t say the same for her.
She just finished up her first semester of high school.
With a 4.0 GPA.
4.0?
I don’t think I got a 4.0 in my first two years.
Combined.
She’s a smart one for sure.
Ranked #6 out of the 450 freshman in her school.
From where I’m sitting that’s an amazing feat.
For her Korean mother, she wanted to know who the five kids are ranked ahead of her.
High school is a crazy time.
And a great time.
A time when you start to find that balance between what was.
And what will be.
Being a high school student was one thing.
Being the parent of a high school student is something else.
I’ve watched as every one of my friends with a teenager has gone through this.
And every one of my friends has survived.
Barely.
I hope I can do the same.
Finding that fine line between being a parent.
And being a friend.
Has been a real pain.
There’s no textbook in that entire school that has all of the answers.
This morning was a low point.
For me.
Saying things that no parent should say.
And regretting every single word of it.
I wish it was as easy as rewinding life.
And deleting the bad parts.
Unfortunately that’s not an option.
So I did the next best thing.
I sent a text.
Saying I was sorry.
And that I loved her.
She texted back.
Four LONG minutes later.
Saying she loved me too.
Good thing we both have phones.
Unfortunately this won’t be the last time that I feel this way.
Or the last time I say things that I shouldn’t have said.
I can only hope that I can learn something from today.
And take it over to tomorrow.
Isn’t that what high school is all about.
No comments:
Post a Comment