All In, More Than Ever

It was after the fifth or sixth one hit the pile that I realized what I was doing. Cleaning off my bookshelves in anticipation of the graduation party we're hosting this weekend, I was weeding out the books I no longer want or need. And mostly, they're parenting books.

Hmm, what does this mean? We all know those families who have a wide age spread of kids, and the ones on the end are parented very differently than the ones at the beginning. Sometimes we look at them and think, "It looks like those parents are just done."

I admit that in some categories of parenting I feel done. I do not need to do any more practice spelling tests or reviewing of phonograms. Second-grade Immigration Day was a beautiful thing, but I've served my time as an Ellis Island medical inspector, and I'm done. I got off the school bus a couple days ago after accompanying the fifth graders to the botanical gardens and wondered if it was my last field trip. After the dozens that I've made, was that it? Will I ever be on a school bus again? Maybe not, and I can let that one go.

I've taught the same fourth and fifth grade Bible study curriculum to three different groups of girls. Every group was different and I've loved the variety of experiences, but I don't need to do it again. I've read the Narnia series aloud at least three times through and am on my second round of Harry Potter. I've practiced/crammed AWANA verses with kids for 13 years, and while I'm still going strong, I don't dread the day when that will end. And all that driving? With two drivers in my house and one a year away from a permit, I rejoice at my beautiful future. Those hours in the car were well spent (and helped with the AWANA verses and phonogram reviewing) but yes, I can be done. And I can be done in a cute little sedan.

But done parenting? Is anyone ever really done with that? I know it will look different across the various stages of life, but I want to be all in for the duration. Those books I tossed on raising a modern-day knight or shepherding a child's heart are rapidly being replaced by books for the next season. I've read my 500-page Letting Go book from cover to cover, and my reading pile is stacked high with books that promise to help me understand Gen Z. While there are plenty of things I'm ready to put behind me, I don't feel like I'm in a finishing season. It feels more like a beginning season.

My 1990's parenting books may have moved along to Goodwill, but I have no intention of checking out on this parenting thing. I feel excited by all I'm still learning, all the ways I hope to do things better and smarter with the younger kids. If they're raised differently, let it be because their mom got wiser, not lazier. Let it be because she was more tuned in and more faithful, not more cynical or distracted. Keep my head in the game, Lord, because this is without question the best game in town.