How To Not Let Quarantine Kill Your Kids

Quarantine Parenting 101...or not.
  

Parenting during quarantine has been more of a challenge than I had anticipated it to be. I have discovered that in parenting teenagers specifically right now, there is a fine line or a tension that exists between the freedom and the rules, the fun and the mundane, the teenaged "chill" and the teenaged "angst".

We have to let them be while still being their parent. We have to provide both boundary and space, walking the line between excessive and expected, between impulsive and ordinary. Yes, there is tension in quarantine parenting.

I am not going to pretend that I have ever parented little people through a quarantine season. But my heart lies with parenting teenagers through this season. Parenting my teenagers is what keeps me awake at night.

Aside from shedding a slim light on aspects of teenage mental health (which are very real), not much has been said about the trials of parenting well, the teenagers that live within our walls during this season of quarantine. Unless of course, you have a graduating teenager in your home, in which case there has been much said about the loss of the expected celebrations and everyone feels deeply for our graduates; these teenagers deserve to be talked about and recognized for their efforts and achievements!

But what about the teenagers that are just trying to live out their best quarantine lives right now? What about the average teenager who is trying to do school, fill time, and survive somewhat alone and without all that they are used to having surround them - friends, gatherings, and sports, not to mention spontaneity, laughter, and fun? I know that this season of quarantine is impacting, and will ultimately change, every single one of us. And our teenagers are no exception.

Teenagers are Captains of their own worlds, and quarantine doesn't change that. Now they are Captains of Quarantine who don't ever leave your house (except maybe for that questionably rebellious "socially distanced" backyard hangout...). The influence and impact of their captaincy is felt within the walls of our homes; their "chill" is not as benign as they think it might be, but rather it oozes into life and family. If you, like me, have more than one Captain in your home, it can become even more challenging to manage, understand, love, and parent through because they all ooze differently and generally at different times!

So how can we not let quarantine kill our kids, but maybe, perhaps...have them come out better people on the other side of this?

I don't have a step by step solution for this question. But one thing I do know: You have made it this far. You have parented them up to this point. So keep on doing what you are doing because parenting is not cancelled.

Teenagers need us even when they pretend that they don't. 

They need us to be present, not perfect - we are trying to figure this out. 

They need us to be gracious, not difficult - they are trying to figure this out, too.

Hold them tight, but with tenderness. Provide both security and freedom, and let them grow and learn while discovering who they are within the safety of your home. This is the beautiful tension of Quarantine Parenting: both the good and the bad are happening within the safety of your home. The key here is to ensure that it is actually a safe place where your teenager can be their own Captain while allowing others to be themselves too, where your teenager can thrive in who they are because they know it's ok to make a mistake, to push back a bit, and you - their parent - will not falter, nor fault them. 

And pray. Pray for your teenager. Pray for any siblings. Pray for your spouse. Pray for yourself. 

This is not a time to give up but rather to dig deep, so don't give up on them or on yourself. Love your teenagers fiercely, if even from a Cool Mom distance. Love them and believe in them, because you really are their world, whether they realize it or not.

If every day parenting takes work, Quarantine Parenting definitely takes work. I encourage you to give it all you've got, even when it's hard, because your kids are worth it. We're all in this together and we're all going to come out of it together, too.

Invisible

I want to tell my kids that they are not invisible.

I want to tell them that they are seen and loved.  I want them to know that the other high schoolers sitting in their classes who are choosing to not see my sons are missing out. They are missing out on a friendship with a loyal, caring, compassionate and fun boy (or two, or three, or four).

I want them to know that my heart breaks every morning they head out the door for school. My mother's heart would do anything to protect them and provide everything they need.  But the fact is, I feel powerless to change it and them and those others who choose to not see the goodness and depth that exists within my boys. I just feel angry that it is still hard, that it is still not wanted, that it is not what it used to be.

I grieve all that was lost and I cry. I cry a deep cry that acknowledges, perhaps for the first time, the hole that exists within me because of what no longer is. I feel my heart crying, "Oh God, what have we done?"...knowing full well we did exactly what He asked us to do.

It was a transition of obedience.  But it was hard.  Honestly, it is hard.  Three months in, and I am tired and just wish it was all easier - the whole thing: life, work, school, friends, family, sports...

Moving has been the hardest thing we have ever done. It brings comparisons between what was and what is, and between who was and who is. It is a chance to grow and depend on each other and on God. But it is also a daily struggle of hoping each day is better than the one before.  Often it is two steps forward, and one step backward. I am very thankful for those who have helped us take the two steps forward each time, because there have been many! And I am also thankful for our church youth groups who have welcomed our boys with open arms.

Transitioning is a process and it requires courage and grace, strength and compassion, determination and perseverance. All are necessary in life; good things to learn; great things to become awesome at. My boys are becoming awesome at these things.  I see them change and try and dig deeper and learn to be more than they were, more than they could have been had we stayed put. And for that I am thankful, even if they don't see it that way.

But as I watch my son watch everyone around him I think, "Can you see him?  Can you just turn around and notice the boy standing alone behind you?"  I'm scared because I know that my boy is hurting; he is lonely but he is trying; he puts one foot in front of the other each morning and for that I am so proud of him.  He joins new groups and teams in an attempt to find a friend, someone who likes him for who he is, someone who laughs at his jokes and acknowledges all he is.

Someone who sees him.
Because he is not invisible.

He is loved and known. They are all loved and known.
I know that, and I pray that they know it too.

Breathe

Last night I sat at my grandmother's bedside as she breathed her last breath.  It was sacred and surreal; it was overwhelming and all consuming; it was full of peace and His presence.

We stood there in silence, my mom, my dad, my uncle and I and just watched Nan breathe.  We commented on how it was changing in quiet, subdued voices reserved for such a time as this.

We wondered both in word and in thought, what she might be thinking or feeling.

We marvelled at the tears that slowly escaped her closed eye lids, and wondered if she knew we were there, loving her on Home, releasing her, hoping that Jesus would actually free her from the prison of her almost 100 year old body.

It occurred to me that there are few times in life when we actually watch people breathe.  As a Mom, I have spent many quiet moments watching my newborn babies sleep, taking in every movement of their chest, every flicker of the nerves, every curve of their sweet smelling face and lips and nose and cheeks.  I have marvelled at their perfectness, their flawlessness, and their complete peace.  It was only the knowledge that this sacred sight would be over that kept me from letting my aching arms reach down and scoop up my precious baby, holding him tight, never wanting to let go.  I have felt like I could watch my babies sleep and breathe forever.

I felt the same last night watching Nan breathe her final breath.  I felt like I could watch this sacred scene for a long time.  At the beginning of life, and at it's end - that's when we watch our loved ones with an intensity and focus that is reserved for the acknowledgement of the reality of life and breath.  At the beginning of life we marvel at the awesomeness of a new, little life, full of hope and potential.  At the end, we reflect on the life that was, on the years of love given and hopes and dreams fulfilled.  We acknowledge the beauty and the blessing of a life that touched others.  But in both scenes we watch and respect the quietness, the peacefulness and the sacredness of the moment.

Nan certainly lived a beautiful life that loved and touched others.  She was everything a grandma is supposed to be - the provider of sleepovers, cookies, liquorice, manicures, hugs, and laughter.  She was the smile that makes you feel instantly loved and at home; she will always be the connecting piece between cousins, aunts and uncles that live miles apart; she was the warmth that kept drawing you back because you knew you are loved beyond measure, cherished beyond your wildest dreams, and blessed beyond belief.  

I love you Nan.  For all you were and for all you have done, my life is richer because of you.

I can't wait until I can see you again. 

My 4 Sons

Twice this week, I have been shocked and stunned into the realization that my boys are growing into men.  I'm not sure that I am ready for it.  

On Monday night I sat between my two young teenagers and was overwhelmed to hear them sing as we began Holy Week together.  I looked down the row to see their 2 younger brothers singing and bouncing to the beat.  My heart nearly burst with joy and thankfulness.  I mentally wrapped my arms around these young men and held them close.  I didn't want to ever let go.

This morning, we walked in to church together for the Good Friday service and each of my boys seemed a few inches taller.  I'm not sure why.  We sat together in the second row (which rarely happens!) and again, I mentally wrapped my arms around all of them.  I wanted to draw them close, to soak up this moment of family togetherness, and to never let go.  As if he felt it too, my husband, who was sitting in front of us, reached over and grabbed my hand that was sitting on my knee.  He gave me a quick wink and squeezed my hand gently.  

Family.  Solidarity.  Strength.  Courage.  Unconditional love.  Growth.  Freedom.  Love.  Blessing.

These boys-turning-men are my everything.  They are unique but the same, adventurous but steady, funny but serious, talented but humble (well...most of the time).  Above all, they are my inspiration.

 

Johnny ~

My firstborn, my boy closer to manhood than I want to admit.  You are talented in so many ways and I pray that you know it and believe it.  Whether its in the sports you play or the people you encourage, you demonstrate a strength and a maturity that few have, but many recognize.  You are the best "biggest" brother that anyone could want.  Your compassion for others resonates in all you do.  Your leadership abilities will take you far.  Find true joy in serving others. Believe in yourself and above all, believe in the God who gave you all these wonderful abilities.  

Matt ~

My second born, my boy of many wonders and surprises.  There was a time when I might have called you the strong silent type, but now you have grown into a young man that knows when to speak and what to say.  One of my favourite moments was when you told me you were going to run for School Council President...it seemed so out of character for you!  But you grabbed that idea, ran with it, and won!!  This to me proves that you have an inner strength and determination that few have.  Your gentleness is evident to all.  You are destined to do great things, I am sure.  With God as your compass and your guide, go change the world!

                                                                                   

Eric ~

My third born, my boy of immense character and passion.  You have such a zest for life!  Your determination and passion for the things you desire is second to none - except maybe your sense of humour!!!  Your creative imagination is such a gift to you, to our family, and to our world.  I believe you will do great things with the zany thoughts that roll around your brain.  Find what you are passionate about and follow that with your heart, mind and soul.  You are incredibly gifted with an infectious personality and smile to match.  God has some wonderful things in store for you!

Mitch ~

My last born, my forever-baby, my boy of great joy and laughter.  When you were only 3 months old and I became very sick, you became my reason to live, my reason to be, my reason to get out of bed every morning when I really didn't feel like it.  Because you were there, needing me, smiling at me, grabbing my nose with your wee, chubby baby hand, I knew that I had to get better.  And not only for you, but for your brothers as well.  Hardly a day goes by that I don't thank God for giving me you to pull me through.  When I look at you, I see a masterpiece.  You love so deeply, and you are always striving to do your best and be your best in all you do.  Your creative energy will take you many places in this world.  Go with God in all you do, knowing that you will never walk this world alone.

When people find out I have 4 boys (and no girls), the words "wow", "busy", "how do you do it", "crazy", "I'm sorry", and "trying for a girl?" often escape their lips.  But really, I wouldn't want it any other way.  I love them beyond belief.  And I know that I am blessed beyond belief because I have the privilege of being their Mom.