She was only two years old when I questioned if I had the capabilities of raising her. She started to get sassy and sneaky. She was independent and hard to entertain, even then. When she was born I was naive almost over confidant that "it wasn't that hard" to feed and change diapers. Now, she's seventeen and it's gone way beyond the baby powder. I've had seventeen years to perfect my doubts and my weak areas that she's created.
I still don't think my margin of parent error has gotten any more narrow. I've only improved how I play the part. I'm able to hold my shoulders more square when handling her teenage miffs with trouble. I'm determined to not take things personal when she blatantly defies my concern. I still question if I've made the right decisions and directed her down the right paths. Still possessing the same old tools I began with, they're still being used just a little worn and modified. I've become great at nodding and smiling when advice floats my way, but really I do what I can live with. Veteran parents are really good at coming across as right; but maybe we all just get cocky with time.
I'd like to say one down, three to go. But I don't have any of this "down". And as long as they're mine, I'll still be "going" down that road of parenthood with no end.
