It happened gradually, so quickly.  

She changed over time, overnight.  

I thought I was prepared, but never saw it coming. 

My bedside table is stacked with parenting books, I follow counselors on social media and I listen to podcasts.

But it wasn’t until a counselor with five decades of experience said the word “stop” that I finally listened. 

Melissa Trevathan of the Raising Boys and Girls podcast often speaks “words of wisdom” in the last two-to-four minutes of each episode and in the one titled “Building Intentionality and Thoughtfulness as a Family” she explained how parenting is much like skiing. 

Sometimes you are traveling along just fine but then you hit obstacles. Our instinct is to keep going- to keep trying to figure it out as we go.  Her years of wisdom has taught her to instead, stop and reevaluate.  To form a new plan of how to tackle the difficult course ahead.  

Children, much like trails, change over time and have different needs.  Toddlers are not babies, middle schoolers are no longer elementary age and so on.  

And if we seek to parent with intentionality with the end in mind, then we must ask ourselves why did we even agree to start?

Why did we say “yes” to this parenting trail?

And how are we helping our children along the way to grow into the joyful, successful adults we all hope them to become?

As our children grow, so do we. 

When I finally took a moment to “stop” and really listen to my tween daughter’s frustrations, I saw her as another young human instead of the child I was in charge of raising. 

In my mind’s eye, I moved from standing in front of her, explaining what she needed to do and stood beside her, arms linked. 

“We’re in this together.”  “I trust you.”  “You are amazing.”  

Instead of focusing on her missteps, I more audibly recognize her accomplishments.

I am actively giving her what all of us crave: acknowledgement for how far she has come and my belief in her ability to succeed.  

My daughter became a tween and although I tip my hat to those who have journeyed before me, I refuse to accept the warnings that “I’m in for it”.  

Instead, I stop.  I reevaluate my course. 

And my daughters and I traverse this mountain together.