My oldest child – a 17-year-old boy – is just on the cusp of leaving the nest. He’s in his last year of high school, and has recently received his first university acceptance letters for September. We’re still holding our breath and crossing our fingers for the first choice, but both options now on the table are good, and I’d be happy for him to take either.
He’s more than ready to go. A very responsible kid, he’s been squirreling money away from his lifeguarding and swim instructor position, after having spent last summer as a camp counsellor at the sleep-away camp he’s gone to for years. As an aside, it’s amusing that few of the first aid incidents he’s had to deal with this year at our local Recreation Centre where he works, none have been in the pool. A sprained ankle and separated shoulder at the hockey rink and a potential heart attack on the squash court have kept him on his toes.
Of course, I’ve known the day he will spread his wings been coming for a long time, but when the first formal acceptance came, the theoretical became very concrete all of a sudden. Somehow, the little (well, big; he was over 9 pounds!) bundle of joy I brought home – and it really does feel like yesterday – is grown up and ready to tackle life with gusto.
I clearly remember being that age, and being so anxious to be finished with high school, throw caution to the wind and experience all that life had to offer. When I look back, I realize my parents were incredibly good about it, never letting on whether they had concerns about my abilities or readiness. They let me spend almost an entire year on a foreign exchange program in a country over 8,000 km away that they knew next to nothing about. Whatever fears or worries they had were never voiced to me. And when I came home, I just as quickly left again – this time to a university 10 hours away and they didn’t blink an eye. It was freeing and exhilarating to know without doubt that they believed and trusted in me.
I hope my son feels that same belief and trust from me. I know I’ve taught him well and that he has all the skills he needs out in the ‘‘big wide world’’, but I hope I’ve been able to show him that I know. I want him to go away with the understanding that I have complete faith in him and his ability to do anything he wants to do.
How do you make sure your kids know they have your support?
