In my last blog, we processed the power of one safe adult. Now let’s look at a powerful statement that might change the way you parent.
Have you ever thought about what the word “raise” means? We use it often in parenting as we talk about raising children. It’s an important, yet tumultuous, journey out here raising these wild ones, isn’t it? Being a mom can seem complex and overwhelming if we let it. Especially as a single mom, I remember feeling suffocated by the pressure of parenting alone. I felt like one of those circus clowns, dressed in bright stripes spinning thirteen plates above my head while everyone watched from afar waiting for me to drop one—or all of them. To be honest with you, even on my good days I did drop at least one. And you will too.
It was and is heavy out here wearing this mom badge. But there’s one powerful phrase I repeat to myself and my kids along the way: We are raising men and women. There it is. My parenting motto. Did you hear me? We are not raising little boys and little girls. If that were the case, we wouldn’t use the word raise. The antonym for raise is lower or reduce. Are we lowering our children? Do we reduce them daily? Possibly. If that doesn’t take your breath away, read it again because that thought stops me in my tracks often.
My oldest son tested the power of my parenting motto recently. We packed twenty-one years of his belongings into his car and mine and drove 45 minutes down the road to his very first apartment. This day has been a part of the plan for over three years. We had talked it out, wrote it down, and stepped toward this day slowly yet surely. And suddenly, it was here.
I was excited and anxious—the perfect picture of ambivalence. Ok, real talk. I was also a little sad. And to make it worse, he was a lot sad. You see, everything he loved dearly didn’t fit into those boxes. He knew it was time to move closer to his work, but that meant moving away from his family. Although this was a part of the plan, it didn’t seem to make it easier.
Then it happened. Right in the middle of loading the trunk full of cowboy boots and video games, it slipped out of my mouth. “I am raising men.” It was almost as if my brain was yelling at my heart, and his too. I looked him in the eyes and said, that makes sense right? Let’s not tell him I was legitimately asking because my heart felt like it hadn’t taken a beat in six minutes. I repeated myself. That makes sense right? I am raising men. He took a deep breath, shut the trunk, and put his arms around me. Yes, Mom, I get it. You are raising a man.
I can’t tell you that it fixed everything. There was still traffic heading to his new place. I hardly spoke a word because I didn’t have any. I felt so torn by the reality that the hard thing and the right thing were the same thing. It didn’t fix everything, but it felt similar to a chiropractic visit. I felt as though it aligned me for a moment. It reminded me of that word we started this with— raise. Yes, I am raising this man.
Raise: To lift or move to a higher position or level. That’s what I’m out here trying to do. Raise, lift, move these young men up to a higher position. Your arms will grow weary and the plates will fall, but remember your end goal. The most powerful end goal you’ll have as a mother is to raise men and women. So let your brain shout to your heart and say it often, I am raising them up.
Next time we’ll look at the most powerful question I ask at the dinner table.
