50 Schmifty…Scuttling Out of Teenager Land!

50 is a big one. Of all the birthdays, this one really makes you reflect. What have you accomplished? Does anyone care? Does it matter if they don’t? What are your dreams? Are you spending the time you have left doing what matters most with those that matter most to you? Why is that body part sagging?

I am happy with what I’ve done in my life, though it isn’t all what I expected. I have wonderful friends. I’ve done things I can be proud of and things I’m sorry for. I’m working on fixing my marriage.

I have 3 really cool kids, that are testing the waters of adulthood. They are following what they love, using their unique gifts and talents, learning and experiencing new things, and trying out new friend and love relationships. They are flapping those wings and I’m delighted.

Teenagers were tough on my spiritual constitution though. When my kids were young and we were on the farm together, we were so busy. We spent our days and nights working, playing and yes, sleeping together. My kids rode on my back while I fed calves. They followed along in the tractors, and the 4 wheelers. They milked cows, played in piles of grain, rode horses, walked their goats in their Wonder Woman costumes, cuddled their kittens and chased their dogs. They banged, welded, built, destroyed, climbed, swung, fought, and giggled. My greatest joy was cuddling up with them at the end of these days and reading. They liked being with me and I liked them.

Then gradually each of them aged out and succumbed to their hormones. One day, in 2010, I woke up to find myself facing more than a decade in Teenager Land. They weren’t bad teenagers. They were perfectly normal. In fact, all three of them have been abnormally good as far as teenagers go. It doesn’t matter though because in Teenager Land, friends rule and moms drool.

Suddenly, I couldn’t make a good plan or suggestion. I knew nothing. I had no good advice to give. My love of hiking and the outdoors was scoffed at and none of them wanted to go anymore. If they did they were sullen and surly. For years, I have felt like a giant earwig in my own home- lurking and abominable, insignificant and unwelcome. I knew my cohabitants in Teenager Land would just as soon sweep me out the door or squish me in a paper towel than to see or hear my scuttling.

When you share this frustration, people love to dismiss you. They say things like, “Oh, that’s normal.” or “You shouldn’t be hurt. They are just being normal.” or “We all go through that. It’s normal.” or “You did the same thing to your mom. It’s normal.” Okay, I get it. It’s normal. Yes, I did act that way to my own parents, but it still sucks and it is still really hurtful when 3 people you love so much change so drastically in the way they interact with you-especially when you are still legally bound to maintain room and board for them.

So 50 Schmifty? This 50 thing is a big God-damn deal, because at the age of 50- February of 2023 to be exact, I’m officially exiled out of Teenager Land and that is something I can live with.

I don’t get to be pre-teenager me, but I do get to be survivor me. I will still walk The Way of St. James. In preparation for walking a long ways, I have ridden my bike a really long ways. At 50, I still have time to dream big and I get to enjoy the fruits of my labors. They’ve come out the other side and are, after all, good humans.