Yes, my balancing act of parenting a young adult continues. I try to remind myself that Hope is absolutely normal. That the boundaries she’s pushing are normal. She’s defining herself, stretching, growing. I see the development happening, and some days I marvel at how she’s blossoming.
And then other times, I’m just hella annoyed.
I’ve written before that I have few rules: No drinking from my liquor cabinet and no cannabis flower in my house. Beyond that, respect me and respect my house. This is our home, but in terms of property—this is my house.
Paying the mortgage grants additional privileges.
If you unpack my rules, you’ll see that they don’t say *don’t* engage in drinking or cannabis. I would strongly prefer Hope not to do these things, but I also am not foolish enough to pretend that she doesn’t.
I am a natural contrarian. I loathe rules. This doesn’t mean that I don’t have my own rules/codes that I live by, but to have an external set of rules not set by me governing my behavior has always been a tough pill for me to swallow. I just don’t like rules or a lot of oversight.
I’m fortunate enough to have had parents that allowed me a lot of rope and to have a boss that has given me free rein over my programs. I value that trust a lot and I don’t abuse it, but I do stretch!
Hope is in a stretch period of life, and I get that. Again, it’s kind of fascinating to have a front-row seat. But when I have to make a rule because I see it’s necessary it really pains me and pisses me off!
Last week Hope got in at 5 am after a night out. I was not a happy camper. As she was telling me *why* this happened I was like, um, this is an excuse and not a legitimate explanation. So now, she has a curfew.
This means now I also have a curfew. I am annoyed. We were doing just fine, and now we have a curfew.
This week’s dilemma was she was clearly oversleeping and would not get to work on time. Do I wake her up to help get her going or do I mind my business?
I woke her up. Sometimes I do, sometimes I don’t. This time I did.
She’s still going to be late, but she’ll be there.
It’s always a choice to be made though on whether to step in. I want to help her be successful, and sometimes that means letting her fail for now.
I’m honestly struggling with this. I’m not sure what I expected with this phase of parenting.
That’s not true—I thought Hope would be away at college doing whatever without my watchful eye like I was away for school and not with my parents. I didn’t anticipate a scenario in which she would be home during this period.
The pandemic really changed all that, and to be honest, even though Hope has a goal of eventually transferring to a college to finish up her degree, the world feels so different now that I have no idea if that will really happen. I know I will support that effort, and my worries have less to do with Hope’s ability to work hard and make it happen and more to do with the fact that the world is a growing shit show.
I don’t know, the attitudes of the teen years in retrospect seem more predictable. That’s probably the rose-colored glasses talking, but this season of parenting seems really unpredictable. Will she or won’t she make it home before midnight? Will she or won’t she get off the dating apps because I’m afraid that she’ll run into a serial killer? Will she or won’t she drink my high-end moonshine?
It seems silly, doesn’t it? To some extent, I suppose it is.
But it’s real. Thanks for reading my never-ending processing.