By Erin Eddy 
From the random dirty dishes presently cluttering our basement to the constant eye-rolling I’m privy to, it’s evident that there are teens in our home.
In a way, this season of parenting arrived subtly; there I was, completely unsuspecting, taking in episode after episode of Thomas the Train with my little boys, or cheering madly when they first used the toilet, and suddenly those same humans are now shaving over the bathroom sink and driving to the store by themselves. Not to suggest that I’m so naive I never saw these days coming, but c’mon, how did we get here so fast?
My phone, fortunately, holds untold evidence of my kids’ transformations. Skimming through hundreds of pictures and short videos, you can actually see as toothless toddlers magically morph into young men. I can’t explain how strange it is having my once pint-sized babies towering over me now. (One of our boys will turn 13 later this year, and he loves standing next to me to see if we’re the same height. Though I’m still the taller one, that gap between us is shrinking.)
I have to admit that raising teenagers is not always easy. Sorry, that’s putting it too mildly—let’s try that again from the top: Raising acne-conscious, two-and-a-half-hour-shower-taking kids who eat all the groceries and already know everything there is to know about life is really, really, really, really hard. Yes, that’s more like it.
Too often, I fall into bed at day’s end feeling like an absolute failure. I feel guilty for squabbling with my boys and struggling to see eye to eye. I wonder if I did enough as a mom while they were growing up. I worry about my kids’ futures, about them being behind the wheel (literally), and about them potentially going out there and falling down flat on their faces. I worry about bad influences and the unlimited content modern kids have access to. I worry my kids will make poor decisions like I did.
But, alas—deep breath—I remind myself there’s beauty here too.
Because, honestly, nothing beats having your 16-year-old son extend an arm for a quick side hug as he responsibly heads off to work. Nothing beats random chats in the kitchen with inquisitive teen boys about girls and money and biology class and future plans. Nothing beats watching your little ones mature and feeling grateful that you played a role.
Hard stuff exists in every phase of parenting; raising teenagers is particularly tough because you know that, for the next part, they’re on their own. (The constant eye-rolling doesn’t help either.) But you dig in and power through because even though the attitudes drive you crazy and the grocery bill makes you cringe, you love those once tiny babies like crazy. Because part of you is actually really excited to watch them grow up.
And because you recognize that out all the humans who could have raised your kids, God picked you.
by Caroline Murray 
by Lori Jones 
