Shifing the parental paradigm....

Having little kids was easy for me. I loved the raising of babies, toddlers, preschoolers, elementary schoolers. I seemed to have a knack for saying (mostly) the right thing at the right time. Problems were easy to solve, and solutions usually involved a band aid or a hug.

My daughter has always worn her heart on her sleeve. She's been a verbal kid from the very start. She started talking at a young age. As a young 'un, she followed me around the house to engage me in conversation. All of the time. And since she stopped taking naps before her second birthday, there was hardly a break in her chatter from sunrise to sunset.

Don't get me wrong - I loved having a kid who loved to talk. But I do remember my clenched teeth as I asked, for the hundredth time, if mommy could just have a little quiet for just a little while.

Things started to change when she reached her teens. Sure, she still talked to me all of the time, but the topics started to change from which shoes would be suitable for her Homecoming dress to should she change her major after two years of college.

Often, in the guise of imparting wisdom and a shot of reality, which I thought was my job, I would end up saying something that would send her into a fit of irritation and contempt. She'd accuse me of wanting to crush her dreams. She'd tell me I wasn't really listening to her. She'd tell me that I didn't really understand her and that I was treating her like a child.

I was often left frustrated, and so was she. Our relationship was untangling. I worried that we were alienating each other, and I wasn't quite sure why.

Then, one day, I had an epiphany. I wondered if maybe, just maybe, all she wanted was for me to listen to her, hold my tongue, and support whatever decision she was going to make.

I tested my fledgling knowledge one snowy morning. She found me in the kitchen sipping coffee. Her quandry? Should she risk her safety by driving to work when the road conditions were terrible and getting worse, or should she call off and stay put at home?

What I really wanted to say was something along the lines of you'd better get your butt into work - a snowstorm isn't really an excuse. Then, I stopped myself. I realized that this particular reaction was due to my own fiercely Puritanical work ethic, honed over the years in response to my particular neurosis of always wanting to please everyone, all of the time.

This was a decision she was going to have to make, and she was going to experience the consequences of it.

So I kept my mouth shut until she stopped talking and looked at me expectantly. I gathered up all of my courage and said Whatever you decide, I'm sure you'll make a good decision.

Then I ran away.

Something shifted. She realized that I didn't want to argue about this. I realized that I would be OK with whatever she decided. And a weight lifted, from both of us.

Of course, we still have our struggles. We're both women, with very strong personalities, living under the same roof. But I think, on that snowy morning, that we redefined ourselves, and each gave the other permission to reboot and start over.

I like it that way.