A Note on Parenting

I actually have quite a lot of things I want to blog about, but first I want to say that I'm feeling a little disoriented, not quite in my own skin, struggling to feel like I know what's going on in my own life, wondering which was is up.

Finally I figured out why.

I'm a parent of teenagers.

And you know what? They are awesome kids. I love them. No one is in serious trouble and a couple of times a day they are even pretty nice and pleasant. I'm kind of joking about that. They are nice pleasant kids...except when they're not.  And I'm pretty sure that's normal.

But it's just so strange to have these really big people, nearly adults, roaming around my house and kind of needing me for a lot of things and kind of wanting me to butt the heck out of their lives. Needing a lot, wanting a lot, me doing too much and too little for them all at the same time. I kind of hate it. I don't hate THEM - I adore them. But parenting is a new and rather uncomfortable adventure these days.

Finally the Becky articulated the feeling perfectly. "Rachel," she said knowingly as I called her to moan a bit, "this is what's happening. You think you're still Elizabeth Bennett. But you're not. You're her mom."

Nooooooo!!!! It can't be true. Except it is. My nerves....my fussing and wailing and feeling anxious about the kids.... it's only too true. I have become Mrs. Bennett. And it's awful.

Here's who I think I am:

And....here's who I actually am.

Waaaahhhhhhhh!!!!


Okay, moving on. We can do this. Probably.