To Know

Raising a tribe of children can be challenging. According to Google, with this leading role I mingle the inner circle of Angelina Jolie, Nadya Suleman and primitive body artists.

Good to know.

I also learned this week from my 16 year old that my lack of support as her mother has caused irrefutable damage to her grades, social life and activities. According to her, it may take a lifetime to earn her forgiveness. And in the meantime, I am welcome to buy her a baboosh.

Again, good to know.

As I take all this in, I reflect on the certainty that the earlier years of parenting are far more physically exhausting while the youth and teen years tend to be more of a mental beating. Over time there have been countless occasions when my sanity has been questioned (daily according to my 18 year old) and often I find myself wondering if what I'm laughing at should really be scolded and more importantly if what I'm scolding might be handled better with a good laugh.

Like on Tuesday when my 6 year old called his 12 year old brother a white bitch. During a Wii game. Directly in front of the 6 year old innocent bystander he begged to have over for the afternoon.

And then there was yesterday.

After every possible resource had been tapped, it seemed that my 12 year old was destined to miss the traditional 6th grade father/child river trip. He was such a sad camper. Then older brother got a wiff of the situation and by golly, compassion engulfed him. Before we could say Snidely Whiplash, he rearranged his weekend work schedule, packed his bag and with little brother in tow, was off wearing the latest and greatest surrogate father fishing hat known to man.

And I, the unsupportive-insane-scolding-laughing-now tearing-mom am left knowing...

They are who they are in spite of us.
Which is comforting to all of us.
Thank you, Jesus.