Amanda Lamb: The beauty of being needed

Do you ever forget for just a moment that you’re a parent? Does it make you feel guilty when it happens?

“Sure, I can do that on Friday. No, wait, never mind, I forgot that I have to pick up at school, and then she has a doctor’s appointment, and then she needs to be dropped off at a friend’s house…”

It’s hard to imagine after so many years of raising children that one could forget the thing that is so central to your daily life, yet it happens. It’s more understandable when you’re a new parent, murky amidst the fog of sleepless nights and the seemingly endless demands of an infant.

“Yes, let’s go out for pizza. I’ve got my car keys, my wallet, but I still feel like I’m forgetting something. What could it be? The baby!”

By the time my second child goes to college, I will have spent 21 years raising children. It’s hard to imagine what my life will be like when parenting is not part of the daily routine the way it is now. In a way, it’s like imagining what my life would be like without my career. Who would I be if I didn’t do what I do every day?

It’s at once scary and exciting to imagine a world in which there are no impediments—sure I can do that, I’m free. But as parents, will we really take advantage of that freedom when it comes our way? Will we know what to do with it? On the heels of more than two decades of daily parenting, will I jet off on spontaneous weekend trips and accept last-minute invitations to late-night events? Or, will I miss the days when I had to say “no” because someone needed me?

I suspect it will be a little bit of both. The seasons of parenting are part of the seasons of our lives. Our lives revolve around the people we love, like our children, but as they grow up, our responsibilities ebb and flow. We evolve from being self-centered individuals to being focused on them, and then, if we’re lucky, we return to the better part of ourselves.

One daughter lost her dance shoes, the other one is having a problem with her debit card, there is a stomach ache and questions about math homework, and food is expected for a special event at school, and a shirt must to be washed before tomorrow. It’s a beautiful cacophony of need, a symphony only to a parent’s ears.