Rock Star, my 13-year-old, is not the most self-motivated teenager on the planet. But then he has was not a self-motivated baby, either. He did not walk until he was 16 months old. I would have panicked if he’d been my first child; insisting that he be flown to The Mayo Clinic for all sorts of CT scans and blood tests, and blaming myself for allowing too much infant “Sesame Street” watching. But in retrospect, I realize that he did not take his first steps any earlier because he was not motivated. He had an older sister who was born a "go-getter", walked at age 10 months, and waited on her baby brother hand and foot. And I'm sure in Baby Rock Star's little pea brain, he wondered: "Why should I venture upright when I have a sibling who carries me around and brings me everything I need?" I don’t blame him a bit. I'd stay horizontal, too.
Rock Star is just not motivated unless he's motivated. A while ago he told his father, in all sincerity, that upon high school graduation he did not want to go to college or get a job. He’d rather just hang out with his friends and live in our basement forever. And was that okay? I’m not exactly sure how Super Hubs, who has an incredibly strong work ethic, responded. I only know that he flipped out for a bit and chugged lots of Maalox before he went to bed. And had nightmares. And the next day he highly encouraged Rock Star to read an old book called, “What Color is Your Parachute?” to help him begin to brainstorm career possibilities for the future, even though he’s currently only in in 8th grade. Rock Star skimmed the back cover and then decided he would really love to be:
A. A Rock Star
B. A Professional Wrestler
C. or Unemployed and Living In The Basement Until His Parents Die, And Then Take Over The Rest Of The House. And watch lots of MTV and Professional Wrestling.
As the less intense parent, I don’t happen to worry about our children’s future quite as much as Super Hubs. I believe they'll come into their own eventually, with time and maturity. And lots of prayer coverage. Also, I was not a super motivated child either, and I turned out fine. Right?……....I said, “Right??!!”
I had faith that Rock Star would find his inspiration when he discovered what he was really passionate about. And one fine day, noticing his sister's unused electric guitar in her closet, he declared that he wanted to take lessons. BINGO. He'd found his true love. Who knew he'd be musically inclined?? I could almost hear the angels singing the "Halleluiah" chorus. He’s now been playing for about 16 months; eating, sleeping and breathing "guitar." He desires to practice for hours a day, which I don’t mind at all. It’s better than his old habit of playing non-stop video games, which subsequently led to a diagnosis of carpal tunnel syndrome at age 12…….but that’s another story.
Rock Star played yesterday in the Worship Band for his church youth group. (1st cutie on the left.) It did my heart such good to see my first born son using his gift of music to share with others, and his love for God pour forth. Love him, love him, love him, My Non-Conformist, Phlegmatic Beautiful Middle Child!
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