Fledgling
When I watch the birds that inhabit my land I can’t help but think that maybe I can learn a thing or two about parenting from them. The little Phoebe family that lives under my second-story deck seems to have it all figured out. Granted they spend far less time parenting than I ever will but when they do it they do it with all they’ve got. The nest seems to appear overnight but in reality, this intricate combination of mud, moss, and other medium takes approximately a week or two to build. They make it just big enough to fit their clutch. In the case of our resident phoebes, it is big enough for four eggs. Mama bird then incubates the eggs for about 2 weeks. Both parents provide food for the nestlings for 16 days or so. It is amazing to watch as the naked, flightless, and sightless hatchlings transform into tiny noisy versions of their parents. In a matter of days, they go from helpless to perching on the edge of the nest contemplating their first flight. This is the time I am most worried for them. No longer safe and snug and not completely skilled in the ways of the world the fledglings are both vulnerable and free at the same time. One at a time they start to leave and the nest sits empty. But the parents aren’t completely done doing their job. If a fledgling leaves the nest before it is ready then the parents will still bring it food until its wings are strong enough for it to catch its own. There was one such youngin’ here. It sat upon the woodpile weary from its first attempted flight. The sight struck concern in my son who quickly wanted to rescue it. I told him to wait because the parents would still provide for it. Sure enough, the fledgling once rested and fed was able to fly from the wood pile onto the railing of the second-story deck and then off to independence.
Then one morning I was awakened by the plaintive cries of a juvenile bald eagle as it attempted to land on the bare limb of the dead ash tree at the edge of the horse pasture. There perched atop the branch was the parent sitting silent and still. You see this tree is prime fishing real estate and no doubt the young eagle was going to get a lesson on how to catch a juicy catfish out of my neighbor’s pond. The juvenile circled and squawked as it tried to find a suitable place to perch next to its parent. I couldn’t help but laugh because it reminded me of my son repeatedly saying “Ma” every time he is trying to get my attention. It was evident that the young eagle wanted to perch next to its parent but either it couldn’t judge the landing or the adult was attempting to convey the message of “find your perch” by refusing to move or respond. After several circles and many woeful calls, the young one clumsily landed on a branch of a neighboring tree. There both parent and child, distinguishable not by size but by plumage, sat patiently waiting to catch their breakfast. This scene would become commonplace for the following month until the young eagle finally learned to provide for him/herself.
Observing the birds made me think about the rearing of my own young. I am sure I am not alone when it comes to thinking that being a parent isn’t always the easiest job. I have so many questions and just when I think I’ve gotten things figured out those children of mine go and change. The world is full of well-meaning advice givers (experts, teachers, grandparents, doctors, friends, neighbors, strangers at the supermarket, etc.) but not one of them spends as much time with my children as I do. Also, as a parent, we all know that sometimes our children are entirely different beings in front of other people. Of course, I am not discrediting the need for professional help when it’s warranted. I’m talking about the day-to-day stuff like setting limits, nutrition, activities, rest, independence, and discipline.
I can’t help but admire how eagles care for their young. They meticulously build their huge nests. They consistently incubate the eggs and they care for the nestlings appropriately for each stage of their development. The eaglets grow and start spreading their wings to catch the breeze. Sound familiar? We do that too. We decorate a nursery. We marvel as a fetus grows inside the womb. We nurse and swaddle our infants. We introduce finger foods. We brag about the first steps. We take photos of every milestone from the first birthday to graduation. But unlike the eagle many humans fail to do one very important thing – we fail to teach our children how to be an adult. The eagles don’t send their fledgling off without teaching it first how to survive. Unfortunately, many of us do just that to our young adults.
Everyone will have a different take on parenting that’s for sure. There is a huge range of parenting styles from the overprotective helicopter parent to the completely uninvolved parent. Some of us give our children everything they ask for while others give nothing at all. Some of us do everything while others expect the kids to pick up all the slack. There are lots of reasons why parents do what they do but I am only concerned with how and why I parent the way I do. I refrain from passing judgment because every one of us is different. Just look around at your fellow parents. Some appear perfect because we only see the snapshots of the perfect moments. Others seem like hot messes because we were there just at the moment their child was having a meltdown and the parent was consumed with overwhelm. I have learned long ago to withhold my opinion because I can be both picture-perfect and a basket case all in one day. The truth is raising kids is hard work and mistakes will be made. And even if you are the “perfect parent” that doesn’t mean your child will grow up to be perfect. Maybe it’s our culture, our egos, or our lack of knowledge but somewhere along the way, many humans have forgotten what being a parent means.
In case you’ve forgotten then let me just say that being a parent is much more than passing on your biology. A parent is someone who cares for a child’s physical and emotional well-being. You provide food, shelter, and clothing. You keep them safe and you love them unconditionally. And as they grow, you encourage them and counsel them when needed. But perhaps most importantly you are their teacher and role model (if we don’t teach them how to be self-sufficient and independent then who will). Simple isn’t it? Maybe it is for a bird, but not for us.
I can’t imagine seeing my children go from helpless to independent in a matter of weeks (like the phoebe) or months (like the eagle). I look at the two of them and wonder what adulthood will hold for them. Will they be able to take care of themselves as well as care for others? Will they know how to choose right from wrong? Will they be responsible and hardworking? My little one is more than a decade away from “freedom” but my big one, Logan, is going to high school in a few weeks and before we know it he will no longer be a juvenile. Parenthood can be described as a period in which the days pass slowly but the years fly by.
My husband and I have taken an approach to parenting our oldest in a way that may make us seem like the meanest or the best parents. It all depends on your personal beliefs. We decided to let him fail and deal with the consequences and then learn from his mistakes. You see our very bright middle schooler decided that doing homework was a waste of his time. He also decided that 1 hour of gaming time was not enough. He then figured out how to make it seem like he was doing his homework but was gaming with his friends. What he didn’t realize was that we were on to him. When confronted his reaction was the expected mix of denial, anger, and of course the good old guilt trip. We learned that getting angry doesn’t work. Belittling was counterproductive. Preaching fell on deaf ears. Punishments only worked until they ended. Lessons were certainly not learned. My efforts to organize his schoolwork and talk to teachers were in vain. We were at our wits’ ends when we decided to turn our parenting struggle into a life lesson.
Since I am his primary harasser of all things school-related I asked him if he wanted my help or if he wanted me to leave him alone. Logan told me I was annoying and to leave him alone. Spoken like a true puberty monster. So I agreed but also made it clear that if he failed he would have to deal with the consequences of missing out on STEM academy, going to summer school, losing his computer and phone (after all tech isn’t a basic necessity), and possibly repeating the eighth grade. He was up for the challenge and surprisingly his grades did improve and more of his homework got done. Unfortunately, he still failed two classes. He came home that last day of school with the knowledge that he was not going to STEM academy and that 6 weeks of the summer school were ahead of him. But he did not complain. He handed over his phone. He sat quietly as his computer was removed from his room.
Wondering how it all turned out? Well, he survived a summer without technology and even found new interests. He thought summer school to be boring but finished with A’s. He even enjoyed it a bit because he got to see some friends. He is heading to high school and will possibly get his tech back once the first quarter is completed. It will all depend not on his grades but on his effort. I feel good about my decision because it allowed my son to take responsibility for his actions and in so doing maybe even boosted his confidence. I also feel good about myself because I gave up control of a situation that wasn’t even mine. It was his and the only responsibility I had was to be his teacher and guide. Just like the adult bald eagle sat patiently while the juvenile flapped and complained until he found a perch, I didn’t budge from my stand as my son nailed his landing.
The eagle has four weeks to teach the fledgling how to become an adult. I have four years to teach Logan. I will not wait until he graduates for him to figure out how to be responsible. As he continues to mature he will be given more responsibilities and freedoms under our guidance. His cries of “Ma” every time he’s hungry will mostly go unanswered because he can make himself a sandwich. His huffs of boredom will be ignored because he can go read a book or ride a bike. He will be asked to help with daily chores because he is now bigger than me and just as strong. And he will be left alone from time to time and I will trust him to make the right choices. If all goes as planned I will not only have a son the size of a grown man but one with the maturity that will make me happy to send him out into the world.
Photo of Eagle Fledgling by John Dewitt