A Shadow in the Snow

The dog park was quiet and empty. Eevee spent her time sniffing the perimeter, running lightly and then pausing with intent concentration. As the sun went down, she blended in with the shadowy snow, white and dark, until I could no longer see her. 

One of my friends sent me a reel that said something like, "sometimes we get so wrapped up in being good moms and helping our kids grow up that we forget we're also still girls getting to live this stage in our lives for the first time ever."

And it hit me so hard. 

Watching my oldest two step into being teenagers, with all the First Times, aching along with them at the difficulties and challenges, and celebrating as they delight in the abilities and opportunities they have now, I definitely feel the weight of wanting to guide and not press, to celebrate and not insist, and the push-pull of seeing them through the lens of my own experience. I care for them and worry about them and drive them around and make their appointments and remind them to do homework and brush their teeth and eat their vegetables and try to gently pass these skills on to them without being too annoying and ... Whew. Sometimes I blend in with the busyness of my kids' lives so much that I don't see myself there anymore - I become like Eevee, a shadow in the snow.

But dang.

I'm also someone I've never been before. I'm also new to being a mother of teenagers, new to working full time in this challenging, rewarding role. I'm learning and growing as a person, and holding new thoughts and perspectives. I'm continuing to listen to that still small voice and getting better at tuning out noise, usually. And yes, mostly I like who I'm growing into but it's not all good change - I'm regularly shocked at my middle-aged forgetfulness and baffled by some of the old-person things that come out of my own mouth. I still struggle with decision-making, and being firm (the downside, I think, of being able to see things from multiple perspectives), and I overthink small moments and interactions in a panic (I'm learning to ask questions and clarify, but it's still a challenge for me).

She looks like a middle aged lady on the outside, but really this Janelle is a teenager herself. She's still chatting on the phone with her besties (although now she uses her thumbs and not a land line cord stretched across the kitchen ). She's still worried about her skin (although it's more about the lines and droopy eyelids and less about acne). She still hopes the guy she has a crush on thinks she's cute (and she curls up in bed with him every night, much to her delight). She still dreams of being a teacher and a writer. She still never knows what to wear. She still stays up too late and regrets it in the morning. She'd still rather lie on the couch reading, with her legs dangling over the armrest, than do her chores.  She still thinks stuffing is the best part of Christmas dinner (although now she has to cook it). She still feels like she should ask someone before sneaking into the tin of Quality Street.

She's a girl, living her life for the first time.

And she's so lucky to get to.

In the midst of your busyness and making Christmas bright for others, I hope you have a minute (or a few!) to enjoy being you - a girl, or a boy, living your life for the first time.

Merry Christmas, friends.

Xo