Are they ready?

 

As of next Thursday, my husband and I will have a senior and a freshman in high school. What? When did this happen?

I’ve been thinking about this craziness for some time. My husband and I have talked extensively about the fact that we only have a couple more years with our girls under our roof. It’s TERRIFYING.

Have we prepared them? Have we sheltered them? Have we given them too much? Have we not given them enough? Can they make it in this crazy world, or should we move somewhere that lets you have basements in your house? Texas bedrock doesn’t allow for basements, and my hubby and I aren’t moving to another state, so that’s out. Let me just say, our girls are wonderful in many ways. They make good grades, they don’t do crazy stuff (that we know of), they like to spend time with us…and all of that is great. But have we instilled common sense? Do they have a good work ethic? Can they keep themselves safe? Is this world going to be harsh to them? I can’t answer those questions with any certainty, and it is maddening.

Our oldest hyperventilates at the thought of anything resembling adulting and HATES driving. Our youngest is convinced that she wants to move far away for college, and she is ready to drive NOW, even though she’s got a couple of years before that’s an option. Polar opposites, as usual. Sometimes I wonder how they could grow up in the same house with the same parents and end up so vastly different.

All of that aside, I’m not confident that either one of them will be okay because this world is MESSED UP. Have we given them the strength of character to make rational decisions in the face of pressure from others? Can they keep their living space clean enough to avoid contracting a flesh-eating virus? Can they navigate the grocery store and keep themselves fed? You think I’m kidding. I’m not.

And I did this. I guided them to this, right? Well, my husband and I. So WE, we did this. Did we cripple them by giving them too much of this and not enough of that? It’s keeping me up at night, this anxiety. And I can’t fix whatever I should fix because, number one, I don’t know what to fix, and number two, I only have a year to do that for the oldest. Not enough time. Never enough time.

You know what I can and will do? I will LOVE them. Fiercely. And if that means pushing them outside the comfort zone we have created so they can start to make their own decisions, then so be it. If it means that they get mad at me because I’m making them do things they don’t want to do, fine. I have to do this. I have to give them everything I can before they go out in the big, bad world.

I wish parenting came with a manual.