Age Limits

 

At the risk of contradicting last week's post, I do want to claim my own grace in not holding myself to an impossible standard as a parent based on my personal situation. It is a form of self-care that I am trying to lean into, to accept that I can't do everything and that that is ok.

This came to the fore last month when a big snowfall afforded an opportunity for sledding at our local park. Asher and I hit the slopes, along with what appeared like our entire neighborhood. What a magical scene it is when everyone gathers for this increasingly rare treat. The sights and sounds are worth remembering forever.

Anyway, as I was frantically trying to keep up with Asher, say hi to folks we'd bump into, and capture the moment through photos and videos, something occurred to me. Kids of all ages could be found in various states of fun: toddlers processing this new phenomenon called snow, older kids Asher's age that were ready to daredevil their way down the hill, and teens reveling in a day off from school. I realized that I was probably the oldest person out there that was responsible for a kid, and a high-energy high-maintenance one at that.

Sure, there were older people out there, but they were going for a stroll by themselves or were part of a multi-generational group providing support for their kids who were with their kids. Kids Asher's age or younger came with parents far younger than me. And teens were there without their parents. Here I was doing way more than folks older than me, while trying to keep up with folks way younger than me. 

Asher may have lots of advantages since I'm his dad. But one advantage he won't access is things like me being willing to careen down the hill with him. And in that moment, I was able to get over any guilt about that and accept that there were limits to what I could do and that that was ok.

This specific moment is part of a broader realization I am trying to live more securely in. All of my closest friends are around my age, but none of kids as young as Asher (or, to my knowledge, with special needs as acute as Asher's). This is also true for my peer set in the professional space, where I hang with civic leaders most of whom who don't have nearly the level of parental responsibilities I carry. As for parents of Asher's friends, they're all younger than me and most have jobs that afford more flexibility than mine. 

So, in just about any circle I'm in, there's no way for me to keep up. And I can seethe or wallow on that, kill myself to try desperately to level up, or accept my limitations and be glad for what I can do. I can't say the latter option comes naturally to me - the roots of that are the subject of another dive in another space - but I can say that I am increasingly aware it is my best option and increasingly able to choose that option with joy. Maybe as I get older I am, albeit not in a straight line, getting a little wiser too.