CONNECTION: When Kids Become Adults
Having adult children come back to live at home is like getting on your bike and taking a ride after several years of NOT riding.
You extract the bike from behind three unused flower pots, two snow shovels, and one old wagon and think, “This will be fun.” You dust it off, pump up the tires, hop on, and approximately 3 minutes and 27 seconds into the ride, when your thighs are burning and you’re cursing whoever came up with the phrase it’s just like riding a bike, you start remembering that biking isn’t all joy; it’s tired legs, labored breathing, and ending up with a sore bum.
When the shelter in place forced my birdies back to the nest, I have to admit I was a tad bit excited. I prepped rooms with clean sheets, shopped for favorite foods, and ordered puzzles. Oh, the fun we would have. My active imagination had us joyfully coexisting, organizing long forgotten closets, playing board games, watching home movies, completing scrapbooks, and cooking together nightly.
It was going to be PERFECT.
Ever the optimist, I decided that sheltering-in-place was going to be a time for all us to learn, love and grow - a bonus chance to be a foursome again that we would never have had otherwise. (I know, it’s a little overboard - it must be exhausting to be the child of someone who continually looks on the bright side.)
When I announced this bonus time philosophy one night at dinner early in the quarantine with a speech that included the phrases, “We should take full advantage,” and, “We will never live this way again,” my son looked at me with a dismayed facial expression that said, “Thank God” to the last sentence I uttered.
Now don’t get me wrong. I would be falsely representing our family if I let you believe that our kids want to run 100 miles per hour in the other direction when they see us. That’s not it. They love us, and we love them, but our window for the utopian vision I had in my head closed years ago. That is a world where my kids are children who need guidance, who look to me for entertainment, and who could never imagine leaving this cozy nest.
They are no longer these children, and I’m finally, happily grateful for that.
Less Perfection, More Connection
If this time has taught me anything, it has proven to me that my romanticized idea of going back, of getting a redo, of play it again, Sam perfection isn’t possible nor desired by any of us. I admit I was probably the last one hanging on to the rope. And in my letting go of this grip, something much more beautiful and important made its way clearly to the surface – the strength of connection.
Connection is the imperfect. It’s the annoyance of a too loud television, the irritation of a “Did you change your sheets?” nagging, and the sometimes frustrating process of preparing, cooking and cleaning up dinner for people who sometimes look at you across the table like this is the last place they want to be. It’s all of these less than welcome things approached with understanding, with an, I get it, this is not easy.
Connection is also savoring the moments of flow that do happen when you sit talking and laughing on the screened-in porch together, having s’mores and playing Scrabble. It’s understanding that while things aren’t the way they used to be, they’re still filled with thousands of points of history, shared language, shared stories, and a deep well of connection that will last forever.
I could have never guessed that this unique moment in time, one where we’ve been stuck together for months, would grace me with the recognition that life moving forward is a very good thing. Whether my kids are under my roof or a thousand miles away, the four of us will always be intertwined.
And this got me thinking that if I could let go of my perfection seeking when it comes to defining and controlling my relationship with my adult kids, maybe I could let go of perfection in other parts of my life, areas where I strive and worry just a little too much about making things exactly as I think they should be.
Areas for Less Perfection and More Connection
Here’s a short list of some places where I’m trying to practice more connection over perfection:
1. My body – Instead of condemning my squishy belly and wishing for the perfect, non-stretchmark-scarred abs, could I instead connect to the miracle of my body still being healthy and able to accomplish what I need it to? God knows I wasn’t doing anything to achieve six-pack perfection before the stretchmarks, so isn’t it time to move on from the exhaustion of always wanting to be other than I am? I’ll check yes to both of those questions.
2. My age – Sometimes I look in the mirror and I wonder who the middle-aged woman is that’s looking back. If you’re older than middle-age, I can hear you saying “Just wait!” Writer Nora Ephron resonated with nearly every 45ish+ woman I know when she titled her memoir, I Feel Bad About My Neck. This pause has made me reconsider how critical I was being of myself, and what a terrible waste of time it has been. The fragility of life being front and center has made me recognize what a wonderful privilege it is to grow old. I’m connecting to the truth that with each passing year I may have more tired eyes and less taut skin, but I also have measurable increases in my treasure trove of experiences, an abundance of love given and received, and an ever-growing list of lessons learned. I’ll trade a saggy neck for those kinds of riches anytime.
3. My work – Sometimes I hold myself back from taking risks because I want everything to be perfect before I leap. I want to know that my time invested will pay off. I want to know that my choices won’t cause more frustration. For years I’ve worked solo in my day job at The Work Well Group. During the pause, I recognized how important it is to let go of this perfection in exchange for connecting with others who can help me carry forward the mission of the business. I can help more people by bringing in the help of others. So, I’m exiting these months with two new connections who will help me do just that in the coming months. Stay tuned.
4. My mental wellness – I’ve already shared with you in other essays that I work hard to stay out of the grip of stress and anxiety. I have been reminded during this time that my desire for perfection (the expectation that nothing should go wrong ever and I should feel a degree of certainty on a daily basis) is the exact thing that starts my anxiety engine. Forging a connection to uncertainty and trying to make friends with it has been on the top of my to-do list every day for the last two months. Some days it’s easier, and some days it’s harder, but overall, I’ve become much better at accepting that the only certainty in life is change. Embracing that has definitely improved my daily outlook and experience.
Conclusion
I’ve always believed that I’m not a perfectionist because I can leave a load of laundry in the dryer for more than 48 hours, but as I look at these examples I realize that perfection of a different kind was weaving its way into my life and taking away from all of the beautiful imperfection in front of me.
The world has changed, I have changed, and my kids have changed, but isn’t that the beauty of truly living? It was in the recognition that my kids are more ready and able than ever to take care of themselves physically, spiritually and emotionally that I got a healthy dose of the learning, loving, and growing that I was craving, and I think some of it rubbed off on them too.
Getting back on the parenting bicycle was hard. There were rough patches and unexpected turns, but even with the bumps and tumbles, I wouldn’t trade this one last ride for anything. As I let go of perfection in favor of more connection, I’m determined to focus less on the burning thighs of life and more on the sunshine that I’m soaking up as I ride off into my own future, finally at peace with letting go of one of the hardest and most rewarding jobs on the planet – raising kids.
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