The leaves are almost off, the frost is on the ground, and turkey is on sale at the grocery store. It’s parent-teacher conference time!

I’ve sat on both sides of the desk for parent conferences. I taught for 10 years before I was promoted to “Mommy.” Trust me. It’s much more emotional sitting on the parent side. Here are a few things I’ve learned along the way.

1. Share relevant information. Remember, school will help your child to grow socially and emotionally, as well as academically. It’s appropriate to share any issues that may impact your child in any of those areas. My very energetic niece will be entering Kindergarten next year. My sister is debating on whether to discuss that with the K teacher before my niece attends school. She doesn’t want to negatively bias the teacher against her daughter, yet she wants the teacher to be proactive rather than reactive when dealing with behavior. My advice is to give the teacher a heads-up. It will help with things like seating and proximity control, and also will open the pathway of communication.

2. Be positive when discussing your child. There are usually at least two ways to describe behavior. We could say that a child is lazy or we could say that he needs positive reinforcement to motivate him. We could say that a child is messy and loses things or we could say that he needs some strategies to help with organization.

My oldest was concerned when we recently scheduled a conference for her. “What are you going to say?” I reassured her that her Dad and I are on her team. We have her back. While we certainly aren’t going to allow her to coast through 7th grade, our goal is not to talk despairingly about her but rather to brainstorm ways for her to reach her potential.

3. Schedule a conference whenever you feel the need. We didn’t wait until the official conferences for our daughter because we could see that she wasn’t pushing herself. I called her guidance counselor, requested 30 minutes with the core teachers and five days later we had our conference.

4. If you have a specific agenda or concern, bring along your spouse, or your sister, or neighbor or someone who knows your child and your situation. Even if your person sits there mute the entire time, it’s good support. Later, if something is unclear you’ll be able to confer. Jot down your concerns before the conference and take notes during. It helps to focus and clarify your thoughts.

5. Request any special accommodations that you feel would help your child to succeed. Maybe your child needs a morning snack to stay focused. Perhaps the math homework is overwhelming and your child should only do the odd numbered problems. Most teachers are flexible and sincerely appreciate your parental insight.

Services such as special education testing, physical therapy, occupational therapy, math and reading assistance, speech therapy, and counseling are other options. The school will do an evaluation at teacher or parent request. If appropriate, they’ll provide services. When my oldest was in Kindergarten, I requested a speech evaluation. Her teacher thought it was unnecessary but I knew there were certain sounds she couldn’t articulate. She was embarrassed and hesitant to talk at school. Three months later, after speech class once a week, she was Miss Chatty.

6. Don’t be defensive. At another daughter’s 1st grade conference, her teacher recommended she receive some assistance in reading. We were stunned. My initial feeling was, “No way! She doesn’t need extra help. Maybe you’re not teaching her very much!” Luckily, I was able to stifle that. My daughter did receive extra help that year and now in 4th grade she reads above grade level.

7. Follow up with an e-mail thanking the teacher for her time and support. If some action was decided upon, mention that. It keeps things clear and even though our own children are paramount in our minds, teachers have lots of little people and details to attend to so it’s easy to let something slip. Feel free to contact the teacher a few weeks later to check on how things are going.

Wish me luck on my other two conferences next week!

-Kay

My 10-year-old daughter, Grace, played soccer this fall for the first time. I signed her up for it through the town’s recreation program. My older daughter played for years through that program and she’d always enjoyed it. Kind of low key, only one practice a week, and inexpensive. A good way to sample a sport. Parents get to root for their child while mingling with neighbors and friends from the community.

Grace was randomly placed on a team. Two coaches. One quiet and one…not so quiet. Truthfully, quite obnoxiously loud. He’d actually run up and down the sidelines as the little girls played, barking out, “Get the ball, Go, Go, GO, Stay with it, be more aggressive, where’s my defense…” You get the idea.

But he’d also send these very encouraging e-mails to the girls and there is no doubt that Grace learned a ton. Naturally, she’s not as skilled as some of the girls who had been playing for years. But she has some natural athletic ability and a fierce heart. She likes to win. She really likes to win.

So, I kind of sat back and tried not to judge. Grace was enjoying the experience tremendously. Plus, neither my husband nor I have any desire to coach so my feeling is that you can’t really criticize unless you’re willing to do the job yourself.

Well, her team made it to the championship game. It was almost a joke because the girls would almost accidentally make a goal or kick the ball in the right direction. But, regardless, the team was extremely excited. On the morning of the big game, Grace woke up at 7:30 a.m. to kick the ball around outside in the freezing rain, just to get ready. The whole family went to the game. This was a big deal. We went loaded down with chairs, blankets, snacks, and of course our camcorder and camera in order to have pictures to mark the big event and to share with family through Photoworks. We were pumped!

Well, the coach hardly played Grace. He put her in for less than one quarter and some girls played the entire game. It wasn’t even kind of close.

I have a friend who is a wonderful coach and he has to actually keep a spreadsheet because parents question if their child is getting equal field time. I’m so not that parent. I’m sure it’s nearly impossible to keep it even. We’d settle for anything remotely resembling even. The thing is, Gracie’s coaches had been very fair for the entire season. So, this was obviously all about winning the “big game.” And Grace figured that out and all it implied. I could see it in her face.

So, I was absolutely thrilled when Gracie’s team lost. So much for his strategy. Hah! Yes, I am petty. Grace walked toward me and I could tell even from a distance that she was struggling to hold it together. We all know that feeling that you get when you see your Mom where your throat closes up and your chest gets tight. It still happens to me when something is wrong in my life, even as an adult.

Grace laid her head on me and whispered, “Why didn’t he play me?”

What is the correct response to that? I didn’t answer but just hugged her. As parents, we work so hard to build our children’s confidence and self-esteem and it can all fall apart so quickly.

The quieter coach came over, apologized, and told Grace that he hoped to see her on the team for spring soccer. I kept my mouth closed. Honestly, I just didn’t know what to say.

To be fair, both coaches were always upbeat with Grace, enthusiastic, and volunteered lots of their time. So, I’m really trying to figure this out. Is this just the way of sports and Grace needs to get used to it? Or have kids’ sports become hyper-competitive at all levels? When spring comes around, do I sign her up for the same team?

Dr. Alan Goldberg wrote a great article regarding youth sports entitled “13 Steps to Winning Parenting” that has one step called “giving your child the gift of failure.” It’s difficult to sort it all out and to determine what is best for my child.

-Kay

When it comes to communicating with my older children, I sometimes feel like Pushmi-pullyu, that antelope-ish Dr. Doolittle character with two heads turned in opposite directions. The poor animal doesn’t always know which way to go.

When I first started writing for this blog a few months ago, for example, my 16-year-old daughter had not an iota of interest in boys, even though her friends had had boyfriends since eighth grade. Then suddenly she was going to homecoming with a date. Now she is hanging out with him, and I want to know everything. Only, she wants to tell me nothing. But don’t I have the right to know something?

“Uh, Emily,” I started very tentatively the other day. “I guess you had a good time with Dalton at homecoming the other night, and I guess maybe you’re kinda sorta hanging out with him a little bit now.”

“Yeah, Mom, but it’s not a big deal,” she said, “and I don’t want anybody to make a big deal out of it.”

“I understand,” I said,, slow and steady as she goes.

“I’m not going to ask you to post all your pictures on Webshots or something,” I continued. “But it’s really no different than when you get a new girlfriend and I want to know about her. And it is a boy, and as your mother, I kind of think I need to know at least a little something,”

“We’re really just friends, Mom,” she said. ”We’re not even boyfriend-girlfriend, and the reason I don’t want to talk to you about it is because most people in this family tend to blow things like this out of proportion.”

“I know, honey,” I said. “But I’d like to think I can respect you on this. I’d like for you to know that I’m here for you, however much of me you need, and that you can trust me.”

“Well, we really are just friends, Mom. We hang out together with a lot of other people, and we’re not serious, and that’s really all there is to tell. I’ll let you know if I need you. And I do trust you, Mom.”

She trusts me! Hey, Mikey! Not only that, but she let me know where her relationship stands! Not only that, but I kept my mouth shut and didn’t press for details like did he kiss her good night and are his parents Republicans or Democrats and what are they going to name their first child? Not only that, but I think I gave her the impression that I’m here, but not prying, that I’m paying attention, but not spying. Hip hip hooray! I’m the Queen Wise Mother of Teenager Communicator Extraordinaire!!

And then I turned around and got into an argument with her 20-year-old brother.

I don’t even know what it was about, something about me not always being available to him when I’m working in my home office on deadline.

Huh?

Communication with an increasingly independent teenager is tricky. Say too too much, and you’ll get shut out. Say too little and the same thing happens. The blog Decoder offers a range of excellent articles about this attempt at balance, which always has me falling off to the too-much side, a stance which I am happy to say is supported by the aforementioned older child: “I’d much rather you keep asking, Mom, than not,” he told me recently. “I can always tell you I don’t want to talk about it.”

The key to communication with a teenager, they say, is doing more listening than talking. The key is setting your own ego off to the side and being willing to trust, respect and affirm your teenager – attributes of the parent-child relationship that should start developing way long before he ever rounds the curve into the teenaged years.

I don’t always get it right the first time. But I always try. And when I succeed, it’s cause for celebration.

For more tips on talking to your teen, check out About.com’s Talk to Your Teen, and this article, Five Tips for Talking With Teens.

- Debra-Lynn

Sometimes when I see my 12-year-old daughter, Emily, giggling with her friends I flash back to that exuberant, carefree, thrilling stage of life. The pure joy of being with my best friends, talking about girl stuff, and plotting our next bit of mischief.

In this particular instance, Emily and her pals were discussing Halloween. They planned costumes, their trick-or-treat route, and the delicious news that one very kind set of parents (suckers) offered to let the girls have a sleepover at their house since, and this is the best part, Halloween is on a Friday!!!

As I semi-eavesdropped, I couldn’t help but think how sweet it was that even as they talked about the childhood thrill of trick-or-treating, they were painting their toenails. They are so smack dab in the middle of two very different stages. That of being a child and that of being a teenager.

As a parent of a preteen, I’m a bit in the middle myself.

Sometimes I treat my daughter as a child and then she says or does something that yanks me back to reality. After all, she’s more than halfway to being an adult.

Other times, I treat her as emerging teen, only to be reminded of how young she still is in so many ways. Just yesterday there were two examples of this.

Emily hates shots. More than my other children and I think, most other kids. It’s a borderline phobia, since birth really. Even as an infant, she’d scream and scream after shots. My other two daughters would look at me with an “ouch” expression and then happily grab for their Care Bear or whatever other distraction I offered. Anyways, yesterday Emily was talking to a friend at our house about how doctors can come to your house and give you a shot while you’re sleeping if you don’t cooperate in the Dr.’s office.

Her friend looked at her in confusion and said, “Huh?”

I interjected, “Em, that was a lie.”

Don’t judge me. I told her that when she was five-years-old and had to get like three million shots before she could attend Kindergarten. I didn’t realize that she was still carrying that around inside her head.

The other comment happened shortly after. Emily was bending over and her friend jokingly commented, “Don’t do crack” alluding to the droopy jeans revealing a bit too much backside. This time Emily was the one to say, “Huh?”

As her friend filled her in on the double meaning, it became apparent that Emily didn’t know that crack was a form of cocaine. Clearly, we need to do better about discussing drugs ( click here for tips on how to do this) now that Emily is getting older, but I have to admit I love that she is so naïve in so many ways.

But as I mentioned before, she’s edging toward adulthood and picking up momentum. Last week at the dentist’s when her name was called, I stood up, too. Emily looked at me and said, “It’s okay, Mom. You can wait out here.”

“Umm, well, okay.”

Back and forth. Back and forth.

There are other times in life that are in the middle of two stages of life. New jobs, engagements, pregnancies, and relocating are all about leaving one part of life and beginning another. Times to treasure but not ones I’d necessarily want to do again. So much excitement, nervousness, exhilaration and anxiety, all mixed together.

That pretty much sums up adolescence.

-Kay

This week I attended a Parent-Teacher Association meeting. I was absolutely stunned at the childish behavior. Here’s what happened:

The whole thing appeared to be well-organized. There was an agenda printed off, the officers were sitting at the head of the table (one with a laptop, armed to take notes), and the principal, teachers and parents were ready to have discussions about the school. Looks good so far.

The officers read through the minutes of the last meeting. The principal presented academic scores of the school, which were wonderful. Terrific.

Then, a parent (clearly annoyed) raised her hand. She calmly stated parents are not being kept in the loop about what is going on. She added that she had brought this up to the committee years ago and still nothing has been done to improve the situation. The problem was simple: Communicate more effectively with parents.

Oh boy. The air was still and quiet. Then the bickering started. The parents who had been at the school for years (aka: cronies) ferociously defended the system. Childish phrases flew across the room (no name calling, thank goodness!).

• Call another parent. Call the school. Call the teacher (translation: the system is fine)
• You just have to get used to it (translation: tough)
• The teachers are doing their best (translation: back off)
• The children are told what is going on, just ask them (translation: the system is fine)
• We can’t solve every single problem (translation: we’re not going to change)

The underlying, collective response was, “it isn’t our fault, this is your problem” – sounds a lot like how my kindergartener would respond – “it’s not my fault!” If the system is so “fine” why are parents upset?

Ironically, the committee and principal had just finished telling us that (and I quote) “problem-solving has become a critical component in our curriculum.” Really? Hmm

This ugly banter didn’t even have a hint of problem-solving. It was just bickering. Clearly, the committee and principal were not practicing what they said they were preaching.

It was astonishing that the officers and/or principal did not intervene when the defensive bickering started. It was even more astonishing that they participated in it!

Not exactly Problem-Solving 101, which involves six incredibly simple steps:
• Step 1. Initiate mediation: begin problem-solving
• Step 2. Gather data: get information
• Step 3. Define the problem: find out what each person wants
• Step 4. Brainstorm ideas: generate alternative solutions
• Step 5. Agree on a solution
• Step 6. Follow-through: bring closure and monitor

And so, I took a deep breath and tried to get us to Step 2 in Problem-Solving. “It appears there is a genuine concern here from the parents. This is not a personal attack on anyone. This is a problem that needs to be addressed.”

Dead silence…..followed by more bickering and defensiveness.

The result: More disappointment.

I broke into the bickering to try to create positive movement. “Could I just say one more thing?” The room got quiet. “This has been a beautiful process.” People literally laughed out loud. I continued, “We have a room full of parents who care about what is happening with their children. This isn’t true for all schools. This is a beautiful situation because all the parents want is to be informed and involved. I’m certain we can come up with solutions that will help all of us help our children.”

My plan: To forgive the childish behaviors, including the laughter. To investigate deeper into why the PTA wouldn’t want to keep parents more informed. To cross “party lines” (as they say in the Senate) in order to develop a constructive solution.

I feel like a Presidential candidate! Vote for me! I’ll fix the world’s problems. Wish me luck!

- Lisa

When the concept of perfection in motherhood emerged in comments on last week’s blog post, I thought of many of the mothers I helped interview for a nationwide marketing project this time last year.

I was privileged during the fall of 2007 to talk to dozens of mothers coast-to-coast, in Seattle and Manhattan and several points in between as the Atlanta-based marketing group tried to get inside the heads of mothers so as to know how to market to them.

The mothers were stay-home mothers and working mothers. They were mothers who were 22 and mothers who were 52. They were mothers with one child and mothers with six. They were single mothers, married mothers, financially struggling mothers and mothers with Hope diamonds on their hands who lived in the burbs of New York City with nannies, even though they didn’t work outside the home.

In open-ended, face-to-face conversation, I and a team of other journalists working in other cities listened as groups of mothers talked to each other about identity. They talked about the struggle to combine the personal with the professional. They talked about their cultural, political and personal motivations as it pertains to motherhood. They talked especially about their determination get it just right, especially their kids.

Based on the reports that we sent from the trenches, the marketing group came to several conclusions:
- Today’s mothers often feel judged, even and especially by other mothers.
- Today’s mothers feel an urgency to contribute to the greater world, whether it be with volunteer work or as a CEO of a major company, even as they feel an urgency to be the perfect mother.
- Today’s mothers, in their reach for a whole and balanced life, often wind up in an obsessive battle with perfection and a subsequent loss of identity.

“Not unlike their predecessors, contemporary mothers continue to experience great joy in motherhood,” said our concluding report.

“They also experience heightened confusion, pressure and fear as they continue to maintain primary responsibility for raising children in an increasingly unpredictable and competitive world.

“Aware more than ever of their own skills and talents, yet determined not to fail at the one job society still says equals feminine identity, they (can) end up sacrificing that very identity and well-being as they compulsively take on more and more mothering tasks.”

I particularly remember a 41-year-old mother of two who lived in New York .

Christine, whose Greek husband struggled to keep stable work, was the breadwinner in her family. Bright and beautiful, she had a very sexy job as a video editor in very posh offices in Greenwich Village.

But because she wanted most to be home with her children, she was pushed to the limits of her abilities, rushing home with a 90-minute commute to tuck in her children, whose grandmother tends them during the day, and then rushing around with them all weekend.

She had nothing for herself.

“I don’t even take time to dye my hair,” she told me, lifting her dark, thick locks with a few strands of gray.

I remember Christine saying she knows she needs to relax her expectations so as to have more time for herself: she tried exercising for awhile at 6 every morning. But then her son’s school schedule changed, and she had to spend that time getting him ready for school and out the door.

It always comes back to what she is and is not giving the kids, she said. It’s the way she was raised.

“You have so much love and you’re taught to give it and to love your husband and do everything for him and to love your kids and give everything to them. And so you follow those directions.”

As I was leaving Christine’s office that day, she told me to take care of myself. I told her the same. She laughed.

“You know I won’t,” she said to me.

Sometimes I think we mothers today are every bit the pioneers that our wagon-train predecessors were, navigating the uncharted territory of these 24-7 times, what one mothering author, Judith Warner, calls the “Age of Anxiety.”

Sometimes, then, some things have to go. This includes beating up on ourselves and each other.

What do you think?

- Debra-Lynn

Things have been pretty crazy lately at our house. We’ve had many weekends of activities planned for the last month. We had the pleasure of my eldest stepdaughter visiting with us for a week. We had in-laws visiting, barbeques happening, end-of-summer parties, weddings and baby showers all in the last few weeks. All very fun, but whew! Kind of a LOT to do on top of raising three girls and working full-time for both of us.

I also should admit (although the header of “do it yourself mom” should be a good indicator) that I tend to try and do too much myself. Now I am by no means an anal-retentive super-cleaner or organizer. But I do tend to just take care of things because, in my head, it is just easier or quicker.

In the height of our busy and crazy schedule I was thankfully able to relearn that things are always better and even smoother if you just ask for help. At ages seven and eight, our younger girls are more than capable to pitch in. They have regular small chores which help a little each day, but in a pinch, they are really quite helpful. Actually, they are still young enough to think that some chores are fun because they haven’t been able to do them yet. “Yay dusting! Yay sweeping! Oooo, I get to use the mop!?! Oh yeah!”

The older girls, however, are a little more like husbands… they will do whatever you ask, just don’t expect them to know all that needs to get done. I gained a solid appreciation of this in the last couple of weeks. With one daughter at age 14 in the throes of hairstyles, new clothes, popularity and boys, she can sleep in a completely unmade bed for days before noticing. She has a list of chores as well, but unless you direct her completely consumed perception toward the list, it will just go undone.

I found myself in the middle of a pretty messy house, dinner guests coming, grocery shopping to do, laundry woefully behind and in a fairly lousy mood. In that mood, I start doing that martyr thing I can do so well. Starting to resent the fact that “I had to do it all” and no one seemed to notice. Then the dog-piling began and I started playing out the fight in my head that would come if I asked everyone to take something off my plate. Very unhappy place to be and I took myself there from zero to crappy in less than a minute.

Fortunately, my eldest was there and she has been reading that bulging vein in my forehead for years. She just started taking care of some small things and asked me what else she could do. She set a great example for both the younger girls but also for me. All I have to do is ask and I will get what I need. It was a blissfully refreshing moment and made me feel grateful and proud of my family. In less than an hour-and-a-half, the house was tidy, the dishes done and grocery shopping complete.

Sometimes I need a refresher course on parenting and it is always an unexpected surprise to receive it from my kids. I learned again that our kids would rather jump up and pitch in rather than see me run ragged all over the place stressing out. Neat, huh? I recommend that everyone try it.

- Holly

Even when I was a young girl, I knew that someday I wanted to get married and have children. I pictured going to my mother’s for Sunday pizza and my kids having sleepovers with cousins. I assumed my children would have close relationships with extended family. Just like I did.

Life is funny though.

I married a local boy. So far, so good as far as my plan went. Then we decided to move from New York to California so that my husband could attend Cal Arts and further his career. It would only be for two years. What an exciting adventure for a couple of newlyweds, and we’d still have plenty of time to move back East and start a family.

We rented a moving van, loaded up all of the wedding gifts, and drove West confident (as only young, childless people can be) that once we arrived in California, we’d find a job for me and a place for us to live.

Well, California was good to us. I found a great teaching job and the two years flew by. Then my husband was offered an artist position at Disney Animation Studios. This was a great opportunity and a lifetime dream for him, but definitely not part of my plan. After much thought, we decided to accept the job offer and stretch our adventure out for a few more years.

Ten years and three beautiful daughters later, we felt like it was “now or never” so we finally moved closer to all of those relatives. Not quite NY but much, much closer. We landed near Cleveland and my husband replaced Winnie The Pooh at Disney with The Care Bears at American Greetings.

So, what about my hopes for my children having close relationships with extended family? Remarkably, that part of my childhood plan did happen as I’d hoped. Despite the lack of physical proximity, my kids have wonderful, loving relationships with grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins.

Here are my parenting tips for creating those bonds whether you live 3,000 miles away or up the street from your extended family.

• Display lots of framed pictures of your family or even snapshots on your refrigerator. Make sure that everyone is represented. Photo calendars made with family pictures (easy to do with Photoworks) are also great. When my oldest wasn’t yet two-years-old, she could accurately point to each of her numerous aunts, uncles, cousins, and grandparents when I said the corresponding name.

• Put pictures in a Who Loves Baby? Photo Book or even in the free album you receive when you get photos developed. Let your child carry it around and “own it.”

• Put family photos on your screensaver as a slide show. My almost two-year-old niece, Sofia, has this at her house and calls it “her movie.” I love that she is forming an attachment to me even though I don’t see her as often as I’d like.

• My sister sings a made up “Love You” song with Sofia each night before bed. The words are “Grammy loves Sofia, Aunt Amy loves Sofia” and on and on. Sofia never leaves anyone out.

• Call about the big stuff and the little stuff. If my daughter wants to call Aunt Katie to tell her she lost a tooth, I encourage it. We also all call anyone celebrating a birthday. It’s a treat to be the center of attention for a whole day. It makes kids and grown-ups alike feel loved.

• Older nieces and nephews keep in touch through e-mail. They enjoy having their own addresses and send each other messages and eCards.

• Be creative. I ordered a subscription to Wild Animal Baby for Sofia so that each month when she receives it my sister can say, “Oh, look what Aunt Kay sent you! She must really love you.”

And I really do.

-Kay

So my oldest stepdaughter has made it back from her great sojourn to Northern California. She went out there to give real life a try and to get some experience as a professional photographer. It was a bold move for someone at age 19 who had lived in a Midwestern suburb her whole life. I am proud of her for trying and learning more about what she really wants in life, but I am not surprised to see her come back in just 6 months.

When she arrived in California with her modest nest egg of earnings from Ohio, she was optimistic and willing to give anything a try. When trying to buy gas for her car, keep groceries stocked and pay for her cell phone made things pretty tight, she started babysitting to make ends meet. The shine was getting lost pretty quickly and she worked hard to keep her chin up and even made time to do a photography gig.

Within a couple of months she was still struggling to make ends meet and finding it harder each day to keep her spirits high. And that’s when that feeling was stronger than ever, “I want to come home!”

It was by following her on her journey that I realized my role as a parent is completely different now. It was when I realized that the only way to really “help” and parent her now was by offering advice and perspective so she could find her way. I realized how fresh in my memory my own 20-something years were and how easy it was to remember how lost I felt the first time out on my own. And I didn’t even go anywhere cool!

I knew that I couldn’t make her feel all better and I couldn’t just let her run for safe haven either. It was time to sit back and wait for when she was ready to hear advice and make some decisions on her own. That was when I could be the best parent I could be for her now.

No matter how much I want to help get her a job, or get her enrolled in college or give her a place to stay, it truly isn’t what she needs most. At 20, she wants more than anything to make a home of her own. She’s fallen in love on her journey and wants to try sharing her home with someone else.

She’s at an unique point in her life where she can try whatever she wants and has only experience to gain. It sounds like a lovely place to be, one where there really aren’t mistakes, just learning experiences lined up in a row… but I know she’s scared, and so am I.

Knowing that every moment of parenting up until now was in preparation for what she is about to do. All the advice, lectures, groundings and tears growing up were to teach her how to make choices and to recognize consequences. There are moments when I feel utterly confident and I know I did a good job. And there are other moments that I know from personal experience, that there are some things that parents just can’t teach you.

She is such a strong and profoundly deep young woman with nothing but a desire to do right by everyone she knows. I absolutely *know* without a doubt in my heart or mind that she will be okay, even better than okay. I also know there will be some bumps, bruises and heartache too, but she will weather it all and come out the other side even stronger and more compassionate.

While all of this happens, I will be here to listen, advise and commiserate in my new role as the parent of a grown up. Since she is up for the challenge of what’s next, I will be too… with some fingers crossed and phone at the ready.

- Holly

This year, as school begins anew, I vow:

–I will not mindlessly toss school papers on the kitchen table where where they will collect in a foreboding heap until such time that a) we have people over for dinner and have no choice but to clear the table or, worse, b) the soccer booster lady e-mails: “YOUR daughter can’t play soccer today because she hasn’t filled out her emergency medical form.”

–I will sign all permission slips, medical forms and PTA forms as soon as my children place them in my hands.

–I will be especially careful to read the fine print on any paper that says “Volunteer opportunity!”, making sure to sign up for only such activities that do not come with a one-page job description.

–I will devise a system for saving those pieces of my kids’ school work that are worth saving, and immediately throw out the rest.

–Not only that, I will sort through the boxes of papers in the basement that date back to my first child’s first preschool, circa 1990, keeping only the most significant pieces. After all, like my friend Megan says, “Do I really need page after page of my kids writing the letter ‘L’ in cursive?”

– I will, once and for all maintain a bottomless cache of cash in the little pottery cup in the kitchen cupboard, so that when my daughter suddenly remembers she forgot to pack her lunch as she is running out the door, there will be money to give. And give. And give.

–When school lunches are remembered, they will be healthy and yummy and made before 8 a.m. with slim-to-no supervision from me.

–There will be no midnight oil, as bedtimes will be at healthy times for each age group. Mornings will be organized so that nobody is running out the door with cereal in a coffee cup, screaming, “I didn’t have time to brush my teeth.” Afternoons will be calm and all-knowing, not like last year when I couldn’t remember which day I pick up my daughter from school and which day she has soccer practice.

–I will remain steady and calm for all my children. This includes the aforementioned 16-year-old. This year, I vow to know when she needs me and when she wishes I lived in a different time zone. I will know when to stay in the kitchen and when to bound up the stairs to her room, where I will sit on the side of her bed and ask, “What’s wrong, honey?” in the sweetest voice known to humankind, even if it is 11 at night and my own eyeballs are moving to the back of my head with my own fatigue and overwhelmedness.

This year, I vow not only to be a calm, steady and all-knowing mother, but the calmest, steadiest, most all-knowingest among all.

Instead of my daughter coming to me and telling me how Abby’s mother never complains about driving back and forth and back and forth - did I say back and forth to the high school enough? - every other half hour after school, I will be the mom who gets put on the pedestal.

My daughter’s friends will talk about how Mrs. Hook always has hot zucchini bread on the table after school, a really cool shirt on her bod and a smile on her face, even when the papers start piling up on the table and there’s no lunch money in the pottery cup.

If only.

-Debra-Lynn