You’re never ready to have children.

You can’t be experienced enough, wise enough, wealthy enough, plan well enough…and if you think you are ready, then actually having them quickly disabuses you of that delusion!

You have the loving desire to invest in a new generation, and the rest of it you learn by doing. Ready or not.

After a while, perhaps, when the kids get older and start their metamorphosis into young adults, you may start feeling ready NOT to have these children anymore! The teens years can be exceptionally trying, and just when you thought you had this parenting gig down (during the relatively easy years of, say, ages 3-11), all kinds of twists and turns and detours rattle your sense that these (formerly) delightful little offspring are going to be ready for adult responsibilities. And for you…maybe that empty nest idea starts looking really good. If you can ever get these proto-adults ready for what’s coming.

If you have multiple children, you also find out that they don’t all become ready at the same pace. But your yearning is the same for each one - that they’ll have the raw ingredients, the responsibility and the mindset, to leave the nest and succeed at whatever they choose.

Next week, my #2 son begins basic training with the United States Marines. We’ve been through the agonizing years of wondering if/when he’d be prepared to shoulder “big-person” responsibilities. But, he made a commitment as he turned 18 to join the service, and since then, we’ve seen some major changes - changes that we’d labored long to bring about, but couldn’t seem to make happen. So as I finally realized last week, looking at my square-jawed and forward-looking son, that he was, indeed, READY, great relief flooded my heart. He isn’t going to stumble out of the nest and flutter to the ground. He’s going to stride forward confidently, head high and shoulders broad enough to be a man.

The bridge has been crossed.

And that’s the reward at the end of “Phase 1″ of this parenting adventure. When you can let go and say, “this one’s ready.” When your little daughter is suddenly a woman, when your little boy has transformed into a man. You know you had a huge part in it, but also, something mysterious is at work in their growing souls. Something strange and wonderful that, in its own time and its own way, finally makes them…grown up.

And ready.

I can’t stop laughing every time I view this video (and I’ve been watching it over and over again….).

It’s funny on its own, but it’s especially funny to those of us whose kids bicker like these two. Even (like mine) occasionally! (And by “occasionally” I mean “yesterday.”) Enjoy:

This weekend is going to be a big one in our family - we’re going on dates.

Yup, that’s plural, you read it right! For the first time ever, we’re doing one-on-one dates with our kiddos. This time, Dad’s taking Maggie to the Sesame Street Live show and I’m taking Jake to either the park or the Children’s Museum. This is something that we decided we really need to do as our kids get older - we realized that neither of us has had any one-on-one time with either of the kids since Jake was an infant. He’s 18 months old now, so it’s about time to start carving out some precious time to just soak up each kid’s individuality.

I was shocked when I thought about the fact that although Maggie and I were home alone together for 15 months, I’ve never known Jake in that way. Our alone time is usually measured in minutes and I honestly don’t know *how* to play with just him! It’s always a group playtime and his dynamics with his sister factor heavily into how we all interact. We get a lot more alone time with Maggie right now as she goes to bed a bit later - poor Jake gets none of that time!

I’m really excited about this weekend and our parent-kiddo dates and also look forward to the next round when it’s time for a Mommy-Maggie outing!

I’d love to hear ideas of what other parents have done to make sure that they get one-on-one time with each of their children………

Kate Olson is a mother of 2 toddlers and lives in rural Wisconsin. She balances motherhood & working from home in a semi-functional fashion - you can read more about Kate on our contributors page. She blogs about education and lots of business/tech stuff at Kate Says . Want more? Read all of Kate’s posts!

Dear Joey,

I posted about your sister recently - it was mostly to show off her new glasses and lovely smile, but it was also because I’ve learned some things about her lately, and I wanted to put them in writing. I have learned a lot about you too this past year, and you deserve for me to write those things down as well, so here I go.

When I mulled over what to write in this post about you, it seemed natural to write it TO you instead of just ABOUT you. Because you’re personal like that - everything that happens around you touches you in some way, even if you weren’t really involved.

That’s one of the biggest things I have learned about you, and one of the biggest reasons you tend to get into trouble. You’re easily offended, and easily hurt, because jokes aren’t just jokes, and feelings are fragile right now. I’m sure it’s partly your age, but here is where we are the same, my boy: I still to this day have to remind myself that it’s not about me. I still have days where something is said, whether in passing or more directly, and I struggle not to cry or be angry. Our deep care for everything that happens is also our weakness. I hope that I can give you an example of how to grow a thicker skin without hiding your heart away, because that softness is a good thing when it’s done right.

You’ll still hurt more than some other people, though, and I’m sorry for that - but if you don’t learn these things like I had to learn them, you won’t be as strong as I know you can be. I always say to you that pain is the best teacher, and I always mean it. One day, you might repeat that to someone else, and then you will truly know deep down that it is so.

You are the child that makes me work harder than I ever have to make sure I am the best mother I can possibly be. You are the one that I cry about, the one I tear out my hair over, and the one that I always fear I might screw up. I don’t know why I’m so afraid that you’re fragile, because you are obviously so resilient. Your kindness and sincerity touch my heart, and your uncanny ability to hear what I’m thinking still catches me off guard.

You are the child who brings me a handful of tissue, even though I was crying as quietly as I could, and was several rooms away. You always give hugs, even when they’re awkward because nobody was expecting them. You always try new things, and you compliment every meal I’ve ever made.

You hate being alone but sometimes you need to be. You have trouble calming down when you’re angry, because you don’t want to have to release all that energy and emotion and feeling - but little by little, you’re learning how to just BE, to find the peace that’s inside you. Again, I know I don’t always give you the best example of how to be calm, but I’ll be working on that for the rest of my life too.

You are my son, my first boy, and I want so much for you to grow into a good man. But I think that the best thing I’ve learned from you lately is that before you can be any kind of grownup, you have to be a kid first. You’re teaching me that running around screeching is normal for a boy, and that green stains on pants and cuts on hands are part of the package. I’m learning to let go more and be silly more, and I have you to thank for it. Just like I had you to thank for all the face-smacks when you were eighteen months old and sitting on my lap, head-butting me because you wanted to scoot closer.

The closer I get to you, the more I see how deep your soul is. I’m honored to be your mom.