Are You There God? It’s me, Sheila
Milestones

Hey God, How Ya doin’?

You know, I’ve often wondered why there are milestones that kids meet when they are growing up, and why are they so important?  Now that my kids are older I’ve finally come to realize that milestones are put in place to help the PARENT.

I think it’s Your way of saying, “See, that wasn’t so bad.  Now let’s see what else I can throw at you!  How much will it take for you to bend, or break?  How strong of a person will you become by the end of your life, and what kind of individual being will you help to form in the process?”

What a huge task!  Raising a child has got to be the toughest job.  Look at all the stuff we’re responsible for doing:  We are actually in charge of a life.  We have to guide that child through so many facets of life:  morality, trust, honesty, humanity, love, hate, religion, principles, and the list goes on and on; the list never stops.  It’s a constant learning process with no curve.  We either succeed or we fail.

The problem is, though, that we never really know if we succeeded or failed because you never stop raising a child. It’s like a big huge test that You give us that never ends.  Sure, I can get clues of how it’s going – like when they become young adults and how they deal with life itself – but I’m gonna take a guess here – You’re not actually gonna give me the final grade until I meet You again, right?

There are so many times when I’ve laughed and cried, and I sought advice from You.  Sometimes I thought You were busy doing something more important  because certainly You were ignoring me;  leaving me hanging while You were like trying to stop another world war or something.  All the while it turns out that a particular issue was something You wanted me for figure out on my own.  Go figure, You gave me a brain and actually expected me to use it!

So God, here’s how I handled a one of those situations this month – just in case you were busy helping starving babies somewhere and missed it.

I woke up early this morning and like I normally do, enjoyed my coffee – alone – before anyone else woke up.  (That’s my little piece of Zen but sometimes I think You afford me that time in order to deal with what is to come)

A short while later, Kaylee (my oldest) woke up and said she had to tell me something.  (Uh-oh.  When a teenager wants to fess up to something, this normally means that if they don’t tell, a higher authority will, so they figure they better do it first)

“Me and Alex were going to Denny’s last night after work and I accidentally went through a yellow light and I got pulled over.”

(Okay, pause;  deep breath;  remain calm.  Remember, this is not only a test of how I handle my child, but a test of how I handle myself.  Oh, the PRESSURE!  I had envisioned this day two years ago when she first got her license.  I imagined yelling, grounding, and more yelling.)

She continues:  “The cop was pretty nice and said you can call on Monday, because I’m still a minor, and arrange for me (me, that’s good!  she’s taking financial responsibility) to pay the ticket and maybe do community service.”

Tears creep from her eyes and she looks as if she’s disappointed in herself for disappointing me.  This doesn’t happen often with Kaylee – crying.  She even admitted that she tried making herself cry when she got pulled over, but just couldn’t do it.

After reminding her that “had she rolled through the light and hit someone, this would be something that she would never in her life be able to undo” and it would be “a burden you and that person would bear for a lifetime”, and that “your insurance may go up because of a stupid mistake”, I’m pretty sure that she has learned something.  And all this was accomplished without me yelling and screaming!

“Oh my You!”  I think I just passed part of the test!

Til next time,
Sheila

©sheilamburke.com 2009  Conversations with God

Driver’s Ed

So if you have teens that are of driving age then join the club of parents who sit teeth chattering, chanting quietly on the edge of the passenger seat clutching the seat belt and praying to God that they make it out alive.

When we were 16 we just went to drivers ed, got our license and were out on the road with all the other crazies the first day.  Gallivanting all over town with our unlicensed friends.  But then we turn ‘old’ and have our own little driver.  And God help us, all those wonderful memories of our early driving years go completely out the window and we suddenly develop a sense of conscience that we didn’t have back then.

Well I’ve learned a couple things now that I’ve had one get her license and one in the process.  First is above all remain calm It’s really not as bad as it seems.  Start out with pulling the car out of the garage and make sure no other cars are in the driveway. (That could be an insurance nightmare)

Second, always always always start out slowly.  The best place to take the kid driving is the cemetery of all places!  Look at it this way….they can’t kill anyone…everyone is already dead.  Plus there are lots of little narrow streets with signs to practice on.  We used to go from cemetery to cemetery for months.  The worst part early on was letting her drive on the actual main roads from one place to the other.  (The goal is to go to the cemetery for a visit, not to stay!)

It took a good couple weeks to let her drive alone after getting her actual license and about 6 months since we stopped insisting she call when she gets there, and when she leaves.  We had her program our home phone into her cell under I.C.E. so that police, fire or paramedics could contact us in case she couldn’t.  Very scary stuff.  Far cry from our parents just letting us go wherever, whenever.  But, in their defense, it’s a very different time.  And if there’s one thing we’ve learned is that the memories of our own past definitely shape the way we raise our own kids.

Just remember, it’s alright to cry (yes, I mean us parents).  And you will.  You may also drink a little.  It’s very scary to see your life flash before your eyes.  Especially when they drive around the corner without tapping on the brake.

Once they are legal (and they will eventually be God help us all) make sure some rules are enforced.  Like the number of kids they can have in the vehicle, no cell phone usage while driving,  both hands on the wheel, yadda yadda yadda.  Our own personal ‘law’ is the requirement that they hold a job to pay for gas and insurance.  When the money runs dry I cannot afford to pay for gas for another vehicle.  Fortunately Kaylee has held a job for almost 2 years now.  I admire her ability to save some money and she admires her ability to spend it.

I suppose it will be fine in the long run.  As long as ‘Middle Child’ can find the spot to plug her IPod into and use the navigation to get to the mall… life will be good.

The Tattoo

So, Kaylee, my oldest had been pestering me for a tattoo.  “Not a big tattoo, mom, just a little one!”  This all transpired shortly after her 17th birthday.  “I don’t want like a tramp-stamp, I want something like a shamrock on my ankle”  (appealing to her father and his Irish heritage.  Yep, that would normally work – smart kid!)

Mostly our reaction was “No…You can do that sorta thing when you are 18.”  Or, “Why would you want to mark up your body?  If you want to get a job in the medical field, you should’t have a tattoo.”

We figured the whole idea would wear off but it didn’t.  I can compare it to when she was like 4 and the ice cream truck would cruise down the street.  Eventually you just give in.

So about 6 months later, Shane decided to go ahead and sign the consent form and take her for the Celtic Shamrock tatto on the ankle.  He became elevated to “The Best Dad EVER!” (you know, despite not understanding anything that she ever said, felt, wanted since becomming a teen.  Isn’t it funny how all that ‘hate’ they have for you turns to ‘love’ when they really really want something?)

So they went to All Tattoos in Strongsville after quite a bit of research on all our parts to find somewhere that was sanitary and took the proper precautions so that we didn’t end up with a kid spouting Hepatitis and endless co-pays for it.   (We all know how hard it is to come up with those endless co-pays!)

The artist called her name.  It was her turn!  She followed him into the room and turned to ask her dad if he was coming in with her.

Shane said,  “No,  you wanted to do this, you can do this by yourself, I’ll just sit out here.”  And then when she was in the room… he added from across the room…. “If he tells you to take your pants off… leave… you don’t have to take your pants off to get a tattoo on your ankle!”

(You know, there’s never NOT a good moment to embarass your teenager)