Kick, Push

This week I had the great pleasure of taking photos at the home of a newly constructed skateboard halfpipe. I mean, people live at this home too - cute ones - but the halfpipe seemed to be the one really “owning” the space. It was exciting to shoot around such a dynamic structure; with all the blur and speed and noise of clattering skateboard wheels on wood and steel.

It’s had me thinking about the things we, as parents, will do to make the home a place in which our kids thrive - and how that changes over time. When they were little it was about having the right books and toys that stretched their minds and developed their abilities. Blocks became Legos became Minecraft. Eventually the conversation turns to stocking the fridge with enough snacks for teenagers; not just for sustenance, but also to coax them into staying close where we can still speak into them, support them, love them, and (honestly) keep an eye on them.

And all of it blurs together, those intentional moments of nest-building. We often lose ourselves in the tasks of provision. Sometimes it is all we can do to juggle the watermelon slicing and homework help and friend drama; we risk missing the way the sunlight makes her red hair glow and full-cheeks glisten. Then - snap - she’s suddenly a skateboarding teenager.

Before we know it, we’re standing at the edge of that nest, and the time to push them over the edge is here. Maybe push them out? Maybe kick?

Kick, push.

Like a skateboard with its forward momentum and click-clack sidewalk progress, they kick-push into life. And here we stand, having bolstered all that provision, all that love, in hopes that it would make them strong for the path ahead.