It becomes clichéd to mention how hard parenting teens can be. Because everybody knows that-right? What with all the hormones changing, and boy-girl drama, and friend circles changing, and learning to drive, getting a job, getting the grades, college, independence, and on and on and on and on….
And trust me this isn’t a “note” about how raising teens is easy either. Because the cliché is cliché or “commonplace” for a reason. It isn’t “I’m up with a baby all night” hard. Or “trying to soothe a temper tantrum prone 3 year old in a grocery store” hard. It’s different.
It’s “the big game – and you feel like you are on the sidelines, and you wonder if you got them ready for this” hard.
And it isn’t me up to bat. There isn’t a thing I can do. The laid back practices, and sipping on a juice box talks in the grass are done. You’ve coached, and taught, and thrown the ball, and yelled, and corrected, and adjusted the game plan, and tried your best with what you have and now you watch. And you cheer. And you pray.