I remember doing the math while lying in bed one quiet weekend morning. When I turned 50—my daughters would be 14 and 16 years of age. Of course, at that point, the girls were barely out of diapers. It was a far-off eventuality that my younger self couldn’t quite wrap her head around. 

Now I’m 54. At the end of June my “baby” graduated high school and by the time you read this, her older sister will have entered her twenties. Technically speaking, I no longer have children; in the eyes of most institutions my girls are legal adults who do not require parental consent to get a tattoo, rent a hotel room, vote or legally drink alcohol in three Canadian provinces. 

Logically, I knew their move into adulthood would cause a shift in our relationships. Practically, I had no idea what the changes would look like or where the pitfalls would be.

The big pause

In our family, things have resumed a normal tempo of busy and routine chaos. And yet… I find that the effects of the pandemic “pause” are still echoing in our parenting decisions. Recent memories of all that we (and our kids) couldn’t do have reframed teenage issues and conflicts. We are grateful that our girls have the opportunity to have adventures, make mistakes and benefit from all the learning that happens along the way. 

We want our children to launch, to gain independence and think for themselves, but the stepping stones down that path are slippery and at times we’ve struggled to keep our footing.

Things like prom all-nighters, solo driving adventures to distant cottages and plans to travel abroad seem like the logical recovery of all that COVID-19 threatened. We want our children to launch, to gain independence and think for themselves, but the stepping stones down that path are slippery and at times we’ve struggled to keep our footing.

Fast forward

Our girls have always been told how much they look alike and, with less than two years between them, they have journeyed through school and the stages of child-adolescent-teenager in close tandem. But, as it often is with siblings, their temperaments couldn’t be more different. And, the arrival of COVID-19 at the end of their Grade 8 and Grade 10 years also paused (in fact, almost eliminated) many of the normal teenage transition points. 

Who needs to talk about curfews or dating protocols when everyone is masked and only allowed to meet outdoors? Delays in driver training took care of the problem of “who gets the car.” For many months our family unit had to rely only on each other. The balancing of friend time with family time was a non-issue. As a result, by the time pandemic restrictions relaxed, we had hopscotched from having young teens to baby adults with not much time in between. 

Many of my friends share my confusion. How did we go from weekly family movie nights to not being able to get everyone in front of our favourite Netflix show? How did the “sleepover” conversation morph from best friends to boyfriends? When did the subject of tattoos and piercings become less about permission and more about design preference? How do you handle it when your house has four “adults” with very different sleep schedules? And the hardest one for me—how do you accept that family vacations will never be organized in the same way they once were?

I’m new at this and I certainly don’t claim to have all the answers but here are a few early learnings that I am passing on to you.

First, family members aren’t roommates and the rules of living at home are not the same as the rules when you’re away at school.

A shift in conversation

First, family members aren’t roommates and the rules of living at home are not the same as the rules when you’re away at school. Both my daughters agree with my husband and me on this point—even if the ways we apply it may be slightly different. We have requested that our baby adults give advance notice when they will miss dinner and ask that they send a quick text letting us know they’re in after a night out or have arrived at a travel destination. These simple considerations go a long way for our peace of mind. 

On our side—we actually don’t expect them to be present for all meals, and we’re intentional about sending updates to the family group chat when away from home. We know that concessions about shared space in the house with our daughters and their friends is fair, even when it includes our hot tub! The girls respect our need for weeknight “curfews” and we understand that weekend time is their own—they will figure out the balance between sleep, partying and work or other obligations. 

Compromise and communication

We are also working on expanding our notion of “family time” to include plus ones. This isn’t necessarily an easy one. We know the rollercoaster of young love is perilous at best but to whatever extent they allow us—we’d rather be on the ride with them. So, invitations to family dinner, camping weekends, ski days or whatever “event” is going on will be extended to whoever is present and important in my daughters’ lives. 

It may go without saying, but none of this is possible without communication. And sometimes breaking the conversation barrier is the most difficult aspect of this parenting shift.

It may go without saying, but none of this is possible without communication. And sometimes breaking the conversation barrier is the most difficult aspect of this parenting shift. Our kids see us as their parents, not people. And, it can be emotionally confusing when my mind’s eye sees my daughters as both the children they were, and the adults they are poised to become. Cue many awkward conversations. But I’ll tell you one thing, I have yet to regret a single one of those conversations. We always walk away with a bit more understanding of each other’s perspective. It can be exhausting but it’s worth it. 

I think back to all the childhood firsts—walking to school on their own, their first sleepaway camp, taking public transit without an adult, staying home alone, their first job. All of these occasions were lessons in independence—my daughters learning to do things on their own and my husband and I learning to let them. Those slippery stepping stones that led us here. Now, all of our teaching, parenting and awkward conversations have come home to roost. Both my girls are ready to spread their wings. 

I’m working on doing the same. I’ve realized that the best example I can set as my baby adults venture out on their own is to continue living and cultivating my own life— to be excited for myself as well as for them. This will form the foundation of our new adult relationships—all of us growing, together.