If there was ever a sentence spoken by a character that sums up a story in three words, “parenting is savage,” is it. Plus, I don’t know of a parent in the universe who can’t relate to it.

Emily Itami’s main character’s experience isn’t everyone’s. She’s struggling to raise young children with a husband (and a culture) who prioritizes work over family and in a marriage that lost its luster. With that as her backdrop, she begins a love affair she knows has no future because she would never break up her family. That’s not the part that I can relate to­—it’s the daily feeling the character describes of working impossible hours at a job that you inevitably still feel mediocre at. Who would stay in that job? A parent.

In the Beginning

Lines about parenting always bring me back to something someone told me (I can’t remember who) when I first had children. Little children, little problems, big children, big problems. In other words, there will always be challenges.

Twenty years ago, I couldn’t believe anything could be more of a struggle than trying to get an infant to sleep in his crib alone, through the night without soothing himself by holding onto my thumb. Or reasoning with a toddler in the middle of a tantrum about not getting her way as she screams and thrashes on the ground like a Tasmanian Devil (which became her nickname). Today, as I look at my now nineteen- and seventeen-year-old children, I’m reminded that each stage of their growth is challenging in its own ways. And, just as  rewarding.

Sink or Swim

For me, the savage part started when I realized they would need to learn to do things on their own. As I perceive my children as a reflection of my parenting, it’s challenging to sit back and watch them make mistakes. Ironically, I feel great pride in their successes, but paralyzing shame in their failures. The things they need to learn on their own, albeit with me guiding them on the sidelines, range from potty training to healing from a broken heart. I can’t physically do that for them. They must figure it out on their own, with help, but on their own. So, that’s the real savage part, knowing when to guide and when to let go. 

To Nag or Not to Nag, That is the Question.

What’s the difference between guiding my children and doing things for them? It’s a fine line, but I’m working on it.

After the long, quiet, boring, scary, and lonely Covid-19 filled summer of 2020, when summer 2021 rolled around, I wanted my kids out of my house. I told them, “I don’t care what you do, just get out of your room every day. Go somewhere and get paid.” When they procrastinated, I created my daughter’s resume and drove her to the job site to make sure she dropped off her application. I sent my son’s resume (also created by me) to a colleague and asked him to consider hiring my son for the summer. But my help (right or wrong) ended there. They got the jobs, and the rest was up to them.

After a few months, my daughter told me her manager called her a “Rockstar,” just for taking the time to learn something new, to do something that wasn’t “part of her job.” She still works a few days a week now in her senior year of high school—having her own money is a powerful motivator, but more importantly, she’s learned the reward of being part of a team. I couldn’t learn that for her.

Before heading back to college, my son emailed a thank you to the vice president who hired him (yes, I nagged him to do that). He wrote: “Thank you for the great summer job! My time spent there made me realize that despite how big a company is, every single employee affects the success and future of that company.” The gentleman wrote back: “Your observation is right on point. Thank you for being a part of our team and being so responsible, showing up on time and taking on every project with a good attitude.”

Again, I couldn’t learn that for him.

They earned the accolades, but I still say job well done to the three of us.

Fly—Be Free

Now, my son lives in his first apartment and is  learning to cook for himself. He’s challenged with living with five other boys and staying warm in cold weather he’s never experienced. Yes, I want to go there and make sure he’s got warm socks on. I want to cook and clean  and tell his roommates to wash their own dishes. I want to make budget spreadsheets for their household. But I can’t.

And with my daughter juggling her job, school, the drama of teenage friendships and deciding where she will spend the next four years of her life, what I want doesn’t matter at all. I want her to get more sleep, read more books and find relationships with people who value the amazing person she is. But I can’t do any of that for her. And so, I listen when she wants to talk.

Parenting is savage, absolutely, but at least for me, the savage part isn’t raising them, it’s letting them go.

Thanks, Emily Itami, this is one great line.

If you can relate to this great line, I’d love to hear from you! Please scroll down and leave a comment.

If you’d like to read more about Fault Lines, click here.

If you’d like to read about me, and why I started this blog, click here.