The Toughest Job

by Maureen Cooper
Being a parent is perhaps both the most joyful and most painful experience in all of life. It is an extremely important job that requires no formal training, has no guaranteed outcomes, requires being on-call 24/7 and never ends.

Although we are professional counselors and have studied child development, parenting techniques, and dealing with special issues, we all agree that our greatest expertise comes from being parents ourselves. Among us, we have nineteen children: ten boys and nine girls with ages spanning from one to thirty. Two are step-children. We have been single parents at times and have had to face the challenges of blending families at others.

Some of us have had to advocate for services in the schools for our special needs children, and have even moved so they could get the education they needed. Some have ADHD, learning disabilities, anxiety, obsessive-compulsive disorder, and depression. Some have experienced the pain of sexual abuse, and we as parents have dealt with the whirlwind of emotions and legal problems of that, as well as helping our children through the post-traumatic stress disorder that is a by-product.

We have walked with them through spiritual crises and the trials of dating and having relationship problems. We have withstood teen rebellion and have had many sleepless nights. Our knees have become calloused and our prayer lives improved because of them. We’ve felt helpless in the face of them getting into bad relationships, or becoming addicted to drugs to the point of disappearing into the world of the homeless.

We have suffered the excruciating hurt of being alienated from them for years, as well as the overwhelming joy of reconciliation. We’ve watched them being life-flighted because of life-threatening illness, not knowing if they would be alive when the helicopter touched down at the other end. And we’ve searched for the right help to alleviate their suffering due to chronic diseases.

We have been surprised and delighted by them, as well as humiliated and disappointed. Some have such extraordinary gifts and talents that we’ve felt overwhelmed and just watched in wonder as they develop them. We have taken them to church to help them learn about God, knowing all the while that each has to develop his or her own relationship with Him, not just absorb ours.

Our children have cost us hundreds of thousands of dollars, which we would gladly spend all over again. We’ve closed the door in frustration on countless messy rooms. We’ve had to prod them out of their laziness and lack of motivation, as well as curtail them when they’ve become overcommitted and exhausted. We’ve anguished when they have made unsafe friends, as well as been thankful for good friends and people who have influenced them creatively.

Sometimes we feel like we will burst with pride over them, and sometimes our love for them feels so intense it almost overwhelms us. We have wanted to save them the anguish we ourselves have suffered by telling them “the answers,” while knowing all the time they have to struggle to find their own. We have fiercely protected them when they are in danger, yet let go with lumps in our throats to urge them to experience life.

We all started out assuming we had to help our children form their identities, only to discover that in the process they have molded our own in unexpected ways. We are all better people because of our children.

So when people come to us for help with their own parenting struggles, we listen and speak not just with minds that have learned theories and techniques, but with hearts that have loved and hurt and struggled to find answers. We feel privileged to walk alongside other people in this lifelong journey of parenthood.