To bridge the awkwardness of nudity (me) and fully clothed (her) I confidently said, “My babies were all over 10 pounds so I can handle pain.” Like a fool. It’s the Lightly Frayed way to attempt to bring humour into the strangest of moments – it does not always go as planned. She shot me a look that I now understand meant “Just wait for the next pose.”
As a parent? We have all met some who claim parenting is smooth in the early years. They make comments like, “My three-week-old sleeps through the night” or “My toddler prefers veggies to treats.”
They should hold off on their starry-eyed conclusions until the offspring have been on this planet for 12-15 years.* Just wait, Pollyanna. Don’t start a victory dance quite yet.
*times are approximate and may vary depending on individuals
pain can be unexpected
On our second last image with the torture device. I mumbled a quick apology to the left breast that was about to be plated and squished beyond recognition. And this deluxe package include a large scoop of armpit skin. As the scanning mechanism lowered, a shocking pain shot through my right breast. WHAT? HOW WAS THAT POSSIBLE? It wasn’t even on the Tray of Torture.
That sweet little innocent bystander got pinched through no fault of its own, other than being fairly – um – curvy. I carefully cradled my right boob and brought it to safety, shushing “…there, there.”
We restarted the entire process of scoop, press, plate, squish. While bracing for pain in my western hemisphere, I didn’t consider the upcoming searing eastern jab that took my breath away. I was caught completely off-guard.
True also with parenting teens. We might expect a little eye roll after a reminder to do chores, or pushback on curfew. When out of nowhere vengeful words might catch us off-guard. We may be pummeled with “You never” or icy silence we didn’t see coming.
Teenage words can swing from lifegiving to break-this-Mama’s-heart and back again. All before breakfast. As our teens work out their big emotions, we can be innocent bystanders, often caught in the crossfire.
what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger
I am thankful for my labcoated meanie. Yes, she made me tear up, but it was for a good cause. Her mission is clear and her mandate is simple. I will be a better person for having gone through this. I will receive reassuring results or I will be informed of concerns as early as possible. Either way, I did the responsible, life-honouring thing.
I am also richly thankful for my teenagers – the two I have and the two that will be at this stage in a heartbeat. They make me stronger. And brave and unrelenting.
And because parenting teenagers can be challenging, I am becoming a wisdom collector. My library card hasn’t had this much use since we discovered Elephant and Piggie years ago. I am rethinking strategies that once worked and learning to give space without being distant. I’m drawing from the wisdom of a few trusted friends who are one step ahead in the journey. And I’m fighting relentlessly to go next-level as Mom and man cubs.
Will there be tears? Definitely. But with teens, at least some will be happy ones.
