It was 1994 in Montgomery, Alabama. The only thing bigger than my dreams was my
hair. Sorority semi-formal in a southern
town - a perfect storm of future TikTok content. We were on the dance floor cutting the
proverbial rug when I planted my black high heel squarely and with great force
on Michael’s big toe. And because
steel-toed boots were frowned upon at such an occasion, that toenail has never
been the same. It didn’t slow us down,
but Michael did, with some firmness, comment on the fact that the Great Toenail
Massacre of ’94 could have been avoided had I just let him lead.
As of this morning there are no longer any teenagers in the
Dulion household. The baby boy turned 20
today – unbelievable. I got to squeeze
him – all six-foot, four amazing inches of him – and all I could think was ‘THIS,
this is my most favorite time to be your Mama’.
I’ve said those exact same words at every stage of their lives – as I
sniffed newborn heads, as I cheered for first wobbly steps, as I made up songs
about using the potty, as I took off training wheels and tried on first pairs
of shin guards and cheered from basketball bleachers and conquered the
mysteries of the combination lock and stomped on my passenger brake pedal during
white knuckle driving lessons. But this
stage, this one? It’s my favorite.
Parenting young adults is a lot like a dance where both
partners really, really, really want to lead.
It can be a great time, but you’d better be prepared to get your toe squarely
and forcefully smashed on occasion. It’s
the time that all the songs talk about when we’ve done our jobs well and are
supposed to sit back and watch them “spread their wings”. It’s also, however, probably the time when
they need us the most. The future is looming
large, and it is terrifying. They are
all at once sure about everything, and absolutely nothing.
The definition of “life altering decisions”
hits them squarely between the eyes, and they’re just not sure if they want to
run boldly into the great unknown or sit in your lap eating goldfish while you
read them a story. They balk at your
rules but seek your counsel. They struggle
to find the sweet spot between feeling like a visitor in their childhood
bedroom and really enjoying the safety net of a meal plan and gas card.
And somewhere in the midst of ALL that uncertainty and
dancing and toe smashing. . . they become. They become these AMAZING humans who you are no longer biologically mandated
to spend time with, but for whom you willingly drive hours for just a few
minutes of their time. They become
thinkers of deep thoughts and conversation carriers. They become contributors and encouragers. They become considerate and concerned. They become givers of gifts and appreciative
receivers. They become humble and kind
and confident and poised. And those
little people who you squared off with so many times, reminding them that ‘you
are their parent, not their friend’? Well,
it turns out they become the best of friends.
Happy birthday, baby boy.
You amaze me just by being you.
Keep wanting, keep reaching, keep challenging, keep learning, keep
believing, keep caring, keep wondering, keep questioning, keep pushing, keep becoming,
keep DANCING. These aren’t my words, but
I sure wish they were, because boy did he nail it: “Life’s a dance you learn as you go. Sometimes you lead, sometimes you follow. Don’t worry about what you don’t know. Life’s a dance you learn as you go.” THIS! This is my most favorite time to be
your Mama!
