My daughter is on the roller coaster of hormones we call puberty.
It’s…not as fun or as deeply spiritual a roller coaster as I had thought.
There are lots of tunnels and high peaks. So there’s that.
It’s bumpy. I guess I knew it would be…maybe I thought I’d be better at handling the bumps. Yes, yes. I did think I’d be better at handling the bumps. Damn I hate when I’m wrong.
I used to work on a roller coaster. Not metaphorically, like I am now…I mean in real life…in high school…in Ohio. I worked on a “stand up” coaster called the King Cobra at King’s Island. The park is still there. The coaster is gone. It was steel, not wood. It was a smooth ride. It was exhilerating, wind in my face, going so fast I felt like I could fly if only I could break loose of the restraints. I felt safe though all strapped in there. It held tight. It was a good feeling. It was a good time in my life.
There was another coaster at the park called “The Racer.” It was, I think, one of the original coasters at King’s Island. It’s still there. It’s still popular. It’s a wooden coaster. I’ve ridden The Racer. It’s bumpy. I felt like my teeth were going to pop out of my head while I rode it. Perhaps it was because I worked on The Cobra that I disliked that coaster. Probably. Truth be told in retrospect there were moments I liked whilst riding The Racer.
I thought the Cobra would outlast the The Racer…but some things stand the test of time and some do not.
I thought that my parenting through Riley’s puberty would be The Cobra…but it’s The Racer. It’s bumpy.
I hope the metaphor holds and we all survive the test of time….and keep our teeth in our heads.