I was trimming a huge over grown bush today. The work is hard going as every branch has a giant torn trying to hook me. The thorns go through the thickest of gloves and pierce the soles of my shoes. If it wasn’t such a beautiful bush it would be long gone, but the thorns are worth every drop of blood they take from me. The flowers are so pretty, five purple petals that vary in size. Masses of flowers on every branch making it look incredible when in full bloom.
It got me thinking about my teenagers. There have been times, like the bush, I wished they were gone. Their thorns are not as visible but are their words, their attitudes. They still draw blood but from my heart, not visible pricks and scratches that I receive every time I prune back the thorny bush. But unlike the bush I cannot trim back their unwanted bits. Nor would I if I could.
I remember growing up and trying to behave like an adult while still being only a child. It was a terrible transition. I was in constant battle with how I viewed the world and what society, family and friends expected me to be. I raged against everyone. Pushed every single boundary and then some. Raising me was hell on my family. Remembering this has made it easier to deal with those bad days. The days that I’d quite happily sell my teenagers to the nearest goat herder or move house and not give them my new address or identity. I am quite sure every parent has been there at some stage, but then these horrible teenagers do something that swells your heart and all transgressions are not as great, not as stressful as before. Looking back gives me the hope I’ll survive their relentless grumbling and hot worded jabs. My mother did.
My son knows he has to help me out around the house. Doctor’s orders as I cannot keep up with it all. Housework, cooking, gardening can wear me out quite quickly. Everything has to be done in moderation, so he has to do the things I cannot always do myself. Which sounds great and what he should do but teenagers often have busy social lives that mean helping out at home just doesn’t fit their schedules. Honestly I think they are totally self centered, well, at least my kids but then they go and do something completely out of character which makes you reassess what it is you think you know about them.
Today my son was meant to cook dinner and do some housework for me. He ran out of time but decided that the best thing he could do for me was buy me dinner and vacuum for me tomorrow.
He reminded me in that very moment that even though he has thorns, he also is blooming into a very wonderful young man.
I might have to take the goat herder off speed dial.
harpyfreedom 