When I told Eli that I was writing his birthday post, he rolled his eyes a little. ‘Just don’t make it weird,’ he said.

There’s a reason that parenting gets more difficult to talk and write about as your children grow older. What started out as my story – my unfolding and emerging into motherhood, has now become another chapter entirely. I’m a supporting character in the narrative of my son. And I’m completely okay with that.

But I haven’t been written out of the book entirely…yet!

One of the major reasons I still continue this blog, is to mark the moments as they happen. To gift my family (and myself) with that ever-poignant perspective that tends to disappear as we tread into the sunset of each day. So often I would marvel at something the kids did or said, thinking to myself ‘I’m going to remember this forever’, only to later find that it had vanished when I didn’t write it down.

So, here lies the chronicling of Eli’s eleventh year.

I noticed a marked difference in our celebrations this time around. Granted, the previous two years were marked by restrictions and lockdowns, but even so, it felt like we were crossing a threshold. Heading from ‘kid’ days to ‘teenage’ ones. Or at least the Inbetween. Only a few years ago, I would have spent hours baking treats and decorating an elaborate cake for a themed party. Now, the emphasis has shifted and a birthday has now become an opportunity for Eli to spend time with close friends and enjoy all of his culinary favourites.

The menu was very specific. French toast & croissants for breakfast, Schnitz for lunch, empanadas for dinner and a tiramisu for dessert. His friends came over for dinner, a sleepover and drive-in movie and spent most of the night laughing and talking. There was way too much junk food and plenty of gaming. But, at the end, a very tired eleven-year-old declared it his ‘best birthday ever’.

As for presents, Eli was very confident about what he wanted: clothes. He took the opportunity to go shopping with Dave and pick out particular brands and has taken exceptionally good care of his new white Nike shoes. (Although, this penchant for ‘all white’ has already caused more than a few moments of horror when splashes/stains occur.)

Someone asked me for parenting advice yesterday and for a moment it caught me off-guard. I honestly don’t feel like any kind of expert, despite bringing four children into the world and managing to keep them alive and (mostly) thriving during these past two most difficult years of our lives. After reflecting, part of my advice was this: trust that God has given us the exact child he knows we need, including the lessons they provoke in us along the way.

If you know anything about the Enneagram, you’ll know that Type 9’s desire peace. Conflict and drama unsettles me, yet I think God knew that I would need a little sharpening. So he sent me Eli. Confrontation and boundary-pushing are his two main forms of communication, partially to provoke a reaction, but ultimately to get at the truth that lies underneath the surface. Will you betray me? Try to control me? Can I trust you? At times, we clash epically, yet we are both learning to navigate the relational realities better as time goes by.

I’m proud of the person Eli is becoming. His strength and determination will carry him through many challenges in life, and many of his teachers highlighted his sense of humour in his recent report. His intellect is quick and curious and, if he puts his mind to something, he will certainly achieve it. Over the years, he has taught himself many instruments and is a very talented artist (particularly in drawing faces and graffiti fonts). Sport comes naturally to him and we often hear thumping and crashing coming from his room as he practices basketball on his mini-ring. If we come within a kilometre radius of a climbable tree, he will be up there in a flash. He can finish a book in mere hours. Every bakery we pass is a chance to sample yet another of his favourites – the humble meat pie.

But most of all, it is so encouraging to watch his maturity continue to emerge. He is getting better at laughing at himself, at saying sorry straight away rather than defending his mistakes or deflecting the blame to others. At recovering more quickly from a perceived slight. He has a huge heart for the vulnerable and is very generous when his empathy is triggered. After 9pm, he morphs into the most agreeable boy – very keen to have adult-level conversations and ask insightful questions, or help out with any particular task around the house. Sometimes in his charm, he succeeds in tricking us for a little while into forgetting he’s meant to be in bed!

There have been difficult moments this year. Dave being forced to resign because he wouldn’t violate his conscience was a big one. Eli struggled a little with the reality of life at school post-Dave, initially feeling like his behaviour didn’t matter anymore because we would just be leaving anyway. We gave him the choice of whether to leave at the end of Term 3, like Ivy and Hudson, or whether to see out the rest of the year and complete his graduation. After an internal tussle, he chose the latter.

At this stage, with Adventure School on the horizon for next year, I’m excited and a little nervous about what it might look like for our family. I’m keen to watch Eli follow his passions and take ownership of his own learning, particularly with that self-propelling force of determination being activated. But, given his deep connections with friends over the past two years, I hope that we are able to find a way to satisfy that need to belong to peers and discover other friendship groups. As much as I loathe social media, at least it will give him the chance to continue staying up to date with the Bucket-Hat Gang (his group of boys). In a highly-supervised way, of course. (We’re one of those odd families who have decided to resist the pull of a smartphone until each of the kids are able to self-fund the ongoing contract that a phone requires – ie. have a job.)

Eleven years of parenting has been a wild and wonderful ride. I couldn’t imagine life any other way. The richness and layers of meaning bring joy and gravity and it’s a privilege to be a part of cultivating the next generation. Yes, at times it pushes me to my limit, but I’m getting better at letting go of the shame or guilt in making mistakes or responding badly. Being able to forgive myself is a key part of being able to extend that same grace to others.

I’m so grateful for the chance to be Eli’s mother. In some ways, I’ve learned just as much in the experience as he has.

And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

…

Dear Eli,

You are tempest and calm, roaring fire and glowing embers. Power surges through your veins, but it is your heart that directs and channels the elemental energy as a force for good. Particularly when you allow yourself to be moved by compassion.

People listen when you speak. You have the presence of a leader. We have high expectations of you, because we believe that you are cut from this cloth of courage. God has great plans for your life, my son.

Harness that passion as a sail in the wind. Use it to propel you towards good. Hone your skills, develop your discipline. Think deeply about how each choice you make contributes to your character.

Remember that your tongue can be a great force for good, or an axe destroying the forest. You are the one who determines which outcome emerges.

Know that sometimes in life it will be necessary to stand alone, and to make different choices from the pack. It will feel isolating and lonely. But never forget that the alternative – to go against your conscience – wreaks a far more devastating impact.

May you stand as tall as an elm, as broad as an oak. May your branches be firm and extend out as a place for others to rest and seek solace. Life is not destined to be easy, but you are built for hard times. For God has planted you deep within this rich soil for such a moment as this.

We love you more than you will ever know or understand.

Love always,

Mum