I've Got This

In the last month or so, my son has started high school, started playing baseball for school, and has been given house keys.  And he is handling it all like a champ.

Those that know me, know my son, like his mom, can be an anxious kid.  This mom, however, has always had a goal to not let him suffer from it the way I have at times.  My many years of “You’ve got this” have now turned into “I’ve got this” and I couldn’t be prouder.

While anxiety is a struggle, understanding it personally does really help when dealing with it in someone else.  When my son is uncomfortable with something new, I instinctually know why, and can give him the tools and the coping mechanisms, and, most importantly, the security, which I wish someone had given me.

He likes to know the details:  What time are you going to be here to pick me up?  Where will you be? What time will you get to the game?  What if it rains?  Where do I store my equipment bag during the day?

Having the plan is key, and having a cell phone for when the plan goes astray is a wonderful thing.

In this last month of changes, a month that has made me an anxious mess, he’s been prepared.  I was a lot more nervous about the first day of school than he was (he played summer baseball for the school so he would know some other kids before going).  Anxiety about going out for fall ball was quickly alleviated by some answers I got from some of my fellow alumni about the program.  Realizing he could do those things, he’s really started to not need me anymore on anything else.  He’s got this.  He has taken things to the office for me, found out information about downloading text books we bought online, figured out software he needed for school, and a million other things, all on his own.  When I told him another player’s mom would be picking him up to drive him to Away games, he was fine with that, no complaining and no questions asked, though he used to not even want anyone but me, not his Grandma, not his Dad, no one, picking him up from school at all.  He does his homework without prompting, and WANTS me to look up his grades so he can gauge how he is doing. 

When we gave him house keys last week so he could stay at his friend’s house after we left for some errands, I let his friend’s mom know what we were doing.  He got mad at me, “Mom, I’VE GOT THIS!”

When I left to meet a friend yesterday evening before his dad got here to pick him up for the weekend, I told him his bag and keys were on the kitchen table, and didn’t worry about it.

He’s got this.

It makes me so happy to have a confident teenager.

That’s why they have wine.