A Week of Milestones in the Frazzledad Household
Some weeks are so jam-packed with life changes you wonder if the universe sat down and scheduled them just to see how much emotional whiplash one family can handle. This past two weeks were just that. In the span of a few days, Beth-Rose passed her driver’s test, celebrated her 17th birthday, started her last year of high school, and Zach prepared to move out of the house for good. That’s the definition of “bittersweet parenting”.
Individually, these are milestones any parent expects to encounter eventually. Together, they feel like a tidal wave of change crashing into our quiet little island life. I always knew these moments were coming, but I thought they’d be a little more spread out, giving us some time to adjust. Instead, life threw them all at us like a badly shuffled deck of cards.
Beth-Rose Takes the Wheel
I still remember the day I began teaching Beth-Rose how to drive. The car lurched forward in fits and starts as she got the feel of the gas pedal, and I clutched the armrest like it was a lifeline. Now, she’s officially licensed, a certified driver with the confidence to back on to the road without my nervous commentary. But she still hasn’t gotten a feel for the gas pedal of my Honda…
The morning of her test, I was probably as anxious as she was. When Heather texted me the photo of Beth-Rose with her “N” sign confirming she had passed, her grin said it all. Relief, excitement, and the faint sparkle of newfound independence. And for me, a bit of a tear, and a burst of parental pride. My first thought was, “That’s so great, she’ll be able to drive herself to dance now!” My second thought was, “Oh no, she’ll be able to drive herself to dance now!”
The very next day, she turned 17. Talk about a double shot of adulthood. Seventeen feels like a tricky age. You’re not a kid anymore, but you’re not quite free either. It’s the age of almost. Almost grown up, almost independent, almost ready to fly the nest. And now she has the keys in her hand to prove it.
The Birthday That Meant More
We didn’t throw a huge birthday bash, but the symbolism of it was enough. As she blew out the candles, I couldn’t help but think back to when she was small enough to stand on a chair to reach the cake. Those days feel like yesterday. The truth is, once kids become teenagers, birthdays hit differently for parents. They’re less about balloons and frosting, and more about quietly acknowledging that your little one is sprinting toward adulthood at full speed.
I tried not to get too sentimental, but it’s hard. It’s that bittersweet parenting thing all over again. Every birthday feels like a small goodbye to the younger version of her. And now, paired with her new driver’s license, that goodbye feels even bigger.
The Final Year Begins
As if passing her driving test and turning 17 weren’t enough, Beth-Rose is also gearing up for her final year of high school. Grade 12 is a milestone all on its own, filled with last dances, scholarship applications, and the constant hum of “what’s next?” in the background. It’s the year where high school starts to look more like a launching pad than a landing zone.
To add to the mix, she’s taking a university class twice a week at VIU. Good thing she passed her driver’s test, or I’d be expanding my Daddy Door Dash to a full-time shuttle service. Instead, she gets to practice her independence while I save what’s left of my sanity (and gas money). Watching her juggle both high school and university feels like watching a tightrope act; impressive, a little nerve-wracking, but ultimately a sign of just how capable she’s become.
Of course, this also means the countdown to university is officially on. And if her plans hold, that likely means heading out of province. Which means Heather and I are staring down the double-barreled reality of full-on empty nesting. One kid moving out now, the other one next year. Suddenly, the house feels too big and the future a little too quiet. Yikes.
Zach Packs Up
If Beth-Rose’s week was all about beginnings, Zach’s was about endings. After 19 and a half years under our roof, he’s moving out. Not just across town. Off the Island and into the Big Smoke. Moving into a place with his lovely partner, Hailey. I knew this day was coming, but knowing doesn’t make it easier. His room, once a cluttered monument to teenage boyhood, is slowly emptying. The computer is packed up, the closet is bare, and the bed looks suddenly too big.
It’s a strange mix of emotions. On one hand, I’m proud of him. He’s ready to start his own life, to carve out his own path. On the other, I’m grieving the everyday presence of my son. No more animated dinner conversations about math or Tolkien. No more video game commentary drifting from his room. No more loud, lovely piano wafting through the house.
I explored these feelings about three years ago in a post, “What Happens When the Nest is Empty” It’s just hitting a little harder this time around.
Zachary’s not moving across the world, but even across the water feels like a gulf right now. Our house is going to be quieter, and while part of me appreciates the prospect of fewer dishes in the sink, most of me feels the emptiness already.
Parenting in Transition
This is the paradox of parenting. You spend years teaching them how to stand on their own, only to feel unsteady yourself when they finally do. Every milestone is a victory for them and a tug on our hearts.
This emotional time has made me realize that parenting at this stage is all about letting go. Letting go of control, letting go of the daily routines, letting go of the illusion that they’ll always need us the same way. But it’s also about embracing the new. Seeing them succeed, witnessing their independence, and trusting that all the years of guidance and late-night talks actually did something. Bittersweet parenting indeed…
I know I don’t always get it right. Sometimes I hover too much, sometimes I pull back too far. But this past couple of weeks showed me that parenting isn’t about perfection. It’s about presence. Being there in the car on that first terrifying driving lesson. Being there with cake and candles when she turned 17. Being there to help tape up the last box as he prepares to move.
The Bittersweet Balance
Bittersweet is the word that keeps coming up. Sweet because my kids are becoming exactly who they’re meant to be. Bitter because that means they’re becoming less ours and more theirs.
Heather and I joke that we’ll finally have the house to ourselves, but the truth is, we’ll miss the chaos. We’ll miss the messy schedules, the minor sibling squabbles, and the late nights of D & D. The quiet might be nice for a while, but it will take getting used to.
We’re entering a new chapter of family life, one where all our roles shift. Less about managing, more about supporting. Less about rules, more about guidance. It’s daunting, exciting, and a fair bit of sad.
Looking Ahead
As I sit here reflecting on this whirlwind couple of weeks, I’m struck by how quickly it all happens. You blink, and the toddler clutching a stuffed bunny is suddenly holding car keys. You turn around, and the little boy building Lego castles is packing a box marked “Kitchen Stuff.”
The future is uncertain, as it always is, but I know this: our kids are ready. They’re equipped with the skills, values, and stubborn independence they’ll need. And as for me, well, I’ll keep learning how to let go without losing my footing. But this bittersweet parenting crap really tugs hard…
For now, I’ll celebrate Beth-Rose’s achievements, cheer Zach on as he takes this huge step, and try to keep a box of tissues nearby. Parenting doesn’t get easier. It just gets different. And honestly, despite the intense emotions of bittersweet parenting, I wouldn’t trade it for anything.
