When my oldest was in first grade, he would jump into the car talking a mile a minute, for weeks, about the hen in his classroom that about to lay her eggs. He was dying to see her lay them, but was even more so mesmerized by this thing his teacher called mating. Strapped into his car seat behind me, he explained the process in detail and went on for quite some time with a professorial air.
Hand extended out the back window, he said, “So, Mami, how often do you and Papi mate?”
I was about to put my years as a family life educator to the test, and explain the difference between animals and humans mating, but instead replied, “As often as we can, mijito.”
His satisfied grin and change of subject reminded me that indeed, less is more.
Twelve years later as my oldest is months away from graduation, I find the same is true. They talk. I listen. At times, I laugh and empathize other times my jaw goes numb, but now more than ever, less is more.
Less on our part, means opening up an opportunity for our young adults to step up and do more for themselves. Missteps and all.