Loopholes. How acquainted we’ve become.
My beat-up, antique Webster’s dictionary defines it like this:
loop•hole n. a way of evading a situation, rule, law, etc., to discover a loophole in a contract
It’s amazing to me how my teenagers can always find a loophole in the rules or deals we make.
You need to be home around 10.
At 10:40 the door opens and I quickly remind him of the rule. “But Mom, you said around 10. It is around 10.”
Be sure to do your chores today.
On my way to bed I realize the chores are still not done. In an exhausted but frustrated tone I remind him that the chores are still incomplete so he will have no video games tomorrow. “But Mom, you didn’t specify a time. It is still today. I’ll do them right now.”
Don’t eat all of the pizza. Save some for your brothers.
A few minutes later I walk through the kitchen to see the tiniest sliver of pizza left on the cutting board. When I fuss, I’m quickly reminded, “You said to save some pizza. I did save some!”
There isn’t a perfect parenting manual (Trust me! I’ve read tons that claim to be!), so knowing how to deal with my little loophole-finders can be perplexing. Knowing when to serve up some discipline, a consequence of sorts, and when to just let it go can be a difficult thing. I don’t want to be a push-over parent, nor do I wish to be a drill sergeant. I want my kids to respect authority, but I also want them to stand up for themselves and to let their inner moral compass guide them. Finding the happy medium that corrects but doesn’t cause them to feel stifled and oppressed is my goal.
After all, the teen years are the years in which we prepare our babies for the real world, a world that isn’t multiple choice and can be unforgiving. A world that presents situations that don’t always have loopholes.
I’m struggling with this.
I want my teenagers to have the freedom to become independent and the freedom to make and learn from their mistakes. But I also want to protect them, to cover them up and keep the monsters and demons of this world far, far away. I want to make decisions for them so they don’t have to make mistakes that will haunt them. How can I do this?
Right now, I linger somewhere between helicopter mom and free-range mom. I know balance is best, but honestly it’s hard. Are you seeing my quandary?
I keep looking for loopholes that will allow me to protect them like a mother hen until they’re 30, but guess what? No loopholes will allow that.
So, I inhale until my lungs could burst, say a prayer, and begin to let go.
Scatterbrained Blessings 