Things That Keep us up at Night, or Rock Us to Sleep

My husband, the wiser of the two in our relationship, always tells me that you never know what goes on behind closed doors, among other families, and in other relationships. Truer words have never been spoken.

We had dinner Friday night at the home of a lovely family. Our eldest kids have become good friends. Noah was of course with us, and it's not hard to see that he's an odd duck. He asked if he could read Once Upon a Potty and sang some silly songs, but he sat like a prince at the dinner table, even though there was nothing he would eat, save white rice.

After the meal ended and the kids scattered, the other mom and I got to chatting. She is a calm, gracious, stunningly beautiful woman, and it was a bit jarring to hear her talk about her fears for one of her sons, who struggles with anxiety. He takes medication, and has access to a therapist at college, as well as a psychiatrist at home. But as she pointed out, he's a big boy, and she can't force him to take his meds. Now the anxiety has morphed into hypochondria, with her son thinking that chest pain means he has lung cancer.

She worries about the ways in which her son's anxiety will interfere with his path in the world. How will he manage? Will his hypochondria get worse? How will he hold down a job if he thinks he's dying? I listened sympathetically and I thought, my husband is so right. We all have stuff.

I encouraged this mom to focus on the positives, on her son's seamless transition to college, on his strong relationship with his roommate, on his ability to navigate the social world at school, etc. I told her that that's what I do vis a vis Noah. I don't ignore the challenges; I just try to flip the equation and focus on the positives.

This dinner conversation brought to mind other friends and their kids, and what we carry as parents. I have friends with bi-polar children. A friend I spoke with the other day told me of his son's homelessness. That son is living out West with a girl he met. She lost her child (not his) to social services, and they've been on and off the streets. Another friend told me that he's done all he can for his drug-addicted son (who's also dealing). He just hopes somehow to keep his son out of jail. The weight we carry.

I think that's why I have no patience for the parents who focus on nonsense. You know who you are, and you know what I mean. There are parents in this world who have real trouble, real heartache. The interesting thing is, they don't trumpet it. They don't whine out loud about it. Mostly they just put one foot in front of the other and go. They are the best parents I know, not because they're perfect, but because they've internalized what parenting really is: it's finding a way to balance the love you have for your child against all that you cannot do to "fix" that child. It's the hardest, worst, and most important lesson we'll ever learn.