How to raise an adult

It occurred to me that I could mine my Goodreads reviews for the days (like today) when I don't know what to write about. I read How to Raise an Adult by Julie Lythcott-Haims a year ago. At first I thought the book wasn't super applicable to me, since I am not exorbitantly wealthy, and I am not particularly planning to try to send my kids to Ivy League schools. On the other hand, I live in an area with a robust public school system where many kids do make it to top schools, and two of my kids are on the "advanced academic" track in their elementary school, where, if you eavesdrop at the parent-information meetings, you might wonder if this is high school or if we're really talking about 9-year-olds.

I have thought about what success is going to mean for all of my kids, since they all have different abilities and different goals. Matt and I have always encouraged independence in the kids--they were making their own lunches almost as soon as they knew how to eat them--but I can pinpoint the exact day when this philosophy took root. When I was very pregnant with Polly, we were heading to a restaurant in an unfamiliar neighborhood to eat dinner. We parked on the street across from the restaurant, and as Matt and I, Ida and Lars in hand, waited to cross, Theo darted out right in front of an oncoming car, and the driver slammed on the brakes, narrowly missing him.

Theo was 8 years old. I was shocked that my 8-year-old, with whom I had spent years reciting "Look both ways," did not in fact "look both ways" when it counted. I realized (once my heart slowed back down) that he really had no experience crossing streets all by himself and the only way he would learn the danger would be to face the danger on his own. The very next day, I sent him to walk to school by himself for the first time. This was huge for me. There's no crossing guard, and there's a bit of a blind hill. I held my breath, watching through the window from a block away, while he slowly looked left, slowly looked right, and safely crossed. I collapsed onto the couch in agony and Matt observed, "Wait until it's time for him to drive a car."

Anyway, here was my review.

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April 8, 2019

This took me a few months to get through, mainly because I was reading multiple books at the same time. I loved it—and not just because I went into it already agreeing with her parenting approach of letting kids succeed and fail on their own. (Matt asked me “is your hand tired from patting yourself on the back so much?”)

Yes, my kids are super independent compared to some of their peers, and always have been, but I actually feel a little uncomfortable about it sometimes, because I don’t want other parents, or teachers or coaches, to think I’m being lazy, or worse, neglectful. For example, for numerous reasons, the most important of which is to build her independence and confidence, my 10-year-old daughter rides her bike to soccer practice twice a week. After a few weeks, another mom on the team texted me and said she’d be happy to drive her. It was nice of her, but I was somehow mortified.

Why do I feel that way? As long as I think I’m doing right by my kids, that should be what matters. But I am hard on myself anyway. I think in part because one of my kids has special needs and serious executive functioning issues, I struggle a bit with how much to step in and how much to let him suffer natural consequences.

One thing I particularly loved was the author’s recommendation to encourage kids to get to know faculty in high school and college—taking advantage of office hours, for example, and finding their own academic mentors. I remember my sophomore-ish year in college, I needed a faculty recommendation for a program I was applying to. I asked one of my professors, who refused because she said she didn’t know me well enough. I never forgot that, and I purposely went to office hours and interacted more with my professors from then on.

My own parents, who had 6 kids to worry about, raised us all to be independent, and they didn’t particularly encourage or forbid any extracurricular activities (other than piano and church, which were required). They restricted TV and encouraged books. I’m terrible at all sports, and I was a B+ average student particularly in college. But I roller-skated and biked all over town; and I read a million books; and I went to college; and I have 5 built-in friends in my siblings; and I always knew I was loved; and I’ll never stop being grateful for any of that.

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P.S. It's funny how normal it was for Ida to ride her bike to soccer practice and swim practice a year ago, and how much I long for her to have a place to ride her bike to now! Our swim team season was just officially canceled. I'm not surprised at all, just a little sad. Northern Virginia is still far from being open--the state of Virginia is starting "phase one" of re-opening this week, but our county and the surrounding counties will not be on the same timetable--and I do feel a little adrift in my parenting. For the first time I think I understand why parents might not have felt safe in normal times, sending their 10-year-olds out alone. My kids still want to go out alone ("out" meaning beyond our neighborhood, which they always did pre-pandemic), but I wonder if someone will lecture them, or think their parents don't know where they are, or worst of all feel unsafe themselves seeing them. Anyway, just thinking about that and wondering when I'll feel OK about letting them go play out of my sight again. Sooner than later, I hope.