1,000 Things to Teach before They Graduate

Seth, the youngest of my trio of sons, graduates from high school this month. Mixed in with the pride of his accomplishments comes the reality that I’m being demoted. The title that I’ve coveted for so many years – through measles and bowl haircuts, Little League and Halloween carnivals – will change.

 

For the third time in my mommyhood career, I’ll graciously accept the reclassification from Mom the Manager to Mom the Consultant. Yes, I’ve been through this before. First with Shawn, and then four years later with Jake. I know the routine. I’m familiar with the drill, but that doesn’t make accepting the bittersweet reassignment any easier.

 

I know Seth still needs me, but not in many of the same ways that I’ve grown accustomed to. I’ll expect phone calls like the one I got from Shawn when he didn’t know how to fix his jammed garbage disposal. Or the e-mail from Jake asking for help on writing his resume before he interviewed for an internship. Kids always need their mother (and father), but now I’m on a “need-to-know” basis. And there’s a lot I don’t need to know.

 

In a couple of months Seth will start college, enthusiastic to take on his next adventure while I wait in the background and wonder if I’ve done all I can to prepare him. My heart sees him as a five-year-old boy curled on our couch watching Homeward Bound for the umpteenth time and crying inconsolably as Shadow, a golden retriever, falls into an abandoned railyard shaft. Wasn’t it just last week he asked why chocolate chips are brown? That same inquisitive kid now barrels out the front door – football playbook and economics text in one hand and car keys in the other – ready to start his future.

 

No parent can completely prepare their child for every eventuality – heartbreak, unfair professors, mean bosses, flu-like symptoms, cold lattes, broken appliances, late paychecks, flat tires. But still we try. I look back on these 18 years and hope my nurturing, guidance and love has equipped him to meet life’s challenges.

 

Seth’s world is changing and so is mine. And it’s during transitions like this that we grownups try to make sense of things. We corral our own goals. Check off items from our Things to Do Before I’m 30 (40, 50) list. Jot down some new ones. My husband Nick and I bought a copy of 1000 Places To See Before You Die. So far, we’ve only flipped through the pages but it won’t be long until we actually have time to visit some.

 

I’m excited to start whittling down my travel to do’s, but blissful tourist thoughts are repeatedly interrupted by another list formulating in my mind: 1,000 Things I Hope I Taught Seth Before Graduation. This roster is a mishmash of sticky notes, random thoughts and verbal cautions that trail behind him as he walks out the door. Important things like don’t wash your orange baseball shirt with your underwear, check the date on the milk carton before you make a bowl of cereal; don’t get into a car with an unsafe driver.

 

I’m sure there are more than a thousand things I’ve taught, either by example or lesson, to my sons. But limited to about 800 words, I’ll share (in no particular order) the top few I hope sunk in. When you can spare a moment, feel free to add the other 989.

 

1) Trust your instincts. They will lead you on the right path.

2) Common courtesy counts. Please, Thank You, I’m Sorry, Pardon Me are not on the endangered word list, so use them freely. Open doors for women and your elders. Pull the chair out for your date. Turn off your cell phone in public.

3) Stay grounded. You’ll always have a home and two people who never tire of hearing about your victories, defeats, goals and challenges.

4) You won’t know unless you try. (I borrowed this one from my mother, Florence – to which she’d add – try, try and try again.)

5) Choose quality time over quantity stuff.

6) Break big projects into small pieces. Don’t wait until the night before that 25-page term paper is due to write it.

7) Little things count. Let that car merge in front of you. Pick up someone else’s trash. Put the seat down. Recycle. Smile.

8) You love your family, but you choose your friends, so choose carefully.

9) Never compromise your health. It’s your most valuable asset.

10) Pray. Pray some more.

11) Call your mother.

 

Mostly, I hope Seth knows how much his dad and I love, trust and admire him. Right before our eyes, in what feels like mere moments, he transformed from a helpless infant to an inquisitive toddler to a typical teen. Now he stands on the edge of manhood, a confident, responsible, capable adult. And if I do say so myself, Seth, you’ve done quite a terrific job.

 

Claire Yezbak Fadden, an award-winning columnist and freelance writer, is the mother of three sons. She lives in California. E-mail her at woman.at.heart@sbcglobal.net or follow her on Twitter@claireflaire.