It’s 2013 and I’m the mother of three teenage boys. You probably know that. If you don’t, I’ll tell you – my guys are 14, 16, and 18.
They are incredible. They’re absolutely perfect and can do no wrong and I love them exactly how they are. And I am not saying this because they sometimes read my blog.
At any rate, if you’re a mother or if you’re not, you must know that life has its challenges. Personally, I was stunned by the depth and breadth of physical challenges when the kids were younger and now that they’re older, the emotions and worry and to-the-core wholeness of the experience are mind-boggling sometimes. Well, often, actually.
As I was mind-numbingly surfing Facebook the other day, I saw my friends and my friends of friends and my acquaintances and my acquaintances of acquaintances sharing their minor and not so minor – and even really major experiences, fears and challenges. Some were hysterically funny. Some, frightening and frankly overwhelming,
I read the statuses and looked at the photos. I made some comments and clicked a lot of like buttons. A lot of like buttons. (I do think though that like isn’t always the right word, but that’s a conversation for another time, I suppose.)
I understood some of what these women shared. But some, I could never understand. I could be a friend, I could care, but I couldn’t really understand. Not all of it. But I could be a friend.
And these women? They’re always there with a like or a comment for me when I need it. You know?
But how was it for moms back in the day?
Sure, they talked on the phone more than we do. I imagine that my mom and her contemporaries had people to talk to and a great circle of confidants. But what about that 10:00 pm frustration? Who was there then? Or what if she had no one in her local circle with similar experiences? Who could relate?
We’re so immersed online, it’s easy take it for granted. But you know what? We’re lucky as can be. We can find our tribes – people with similar experiences – and people who are there for us any time night or day. The only cost for entry is caring back.