Gillian Marchenko

That one time I turned the wrong way, drove 20 miles, and missed my daughter’s band concert

I was encouraged to share a ‘bad mom’ moment.

Here’s a doozie:

Zoya, my second daughter, participated in her school band in the fifth grade. She chose to play the trumpet which thrilled me, having been a trumpeter myself in my youth. I located my instrument from high school and cleaned it up for her use. The class started. She learned how to read music. Before long we heard amazing hits such as “Three Blind Mice” nightly. It was either that or a fog horn? Either way, I couldn’t wait for her first band concert.

The day arrived… and I was depressed because I am a mother who fights depression and well, that just happens sometimes.

But I wanted to be there for my daughter so I took a shower, put on jeans and a shirt, and situated myself in the driver’s seat to go to the concert. We had more than enough time and simple directions. I did not have a GPS or the knowledge that I could easily get a GPS on my phone (don’t laugh! This was a couple of years ago, and yes, after the incident I started to use GPS), but I had the address and directions written out on a piece of paper. It was simple, really. Just two turns. Fool proof.

So off we went. Zoya, her trumpet, and me singing along to the radio while I secretly swabbed my sweaty face with a balled up Kleenex. Twenty minutes later we were still driving. I got nervous. We had to have been close to our destination. Or did we miss it? It wasn’t supposed to be this far away. We drove deeper into the south side of Chicago and I started to shake.

“Mom, are we almost there? We’re going to be late.” Zoya sat shot-gun. Her face moved from mild amusement towards a worried expression.

“Let me call Papa and ask him,” I tried to say nonchalantly. I’m sure my voice came out shrill and pinched.

My husband broke the news when I called.

“Gillie, you turned the wrong way on Western. They concert is the other way, across town. You should have turned right. You turned left.”

I looked at the clock on the dash. Warm-ups for Zoya’s band were to start any minute at the concert. We were at least thirty minutes away. We were going to miss it.

“Zoya, I turned the wrong way,” I whispered as I pulled the car over to change directions. “I’ll drive as fast as I can. Maybe you’ll make it for the actual show.”

My daughter started to cry. I apologized profusely. The trumpet sat in the backseat. An inanimate object that was going to stay inanimate. I couldn’t believe my mistake. I wanted to be inanimate too.

We drove in the direction of the concert and watched the minutes tick by. By now the band would be playing “Are you sleeping brother John?” and other songs.

We definitely were missing Zoya’s first band concert. I joined in on the crying.

Sometimes parenting feels like a lot of wrong turns

And in the Christian circles I run in, there is a lot of pressure to have well-adjusted kids who make all the right choices in life, who figuratively wear the ‘WWJD‘ bracelet at all times, who never rebel, and accept Jesus at an early age. Sometimes, my husband’s job (he’s a pastor) makes expectations even greater. (I’ve tried to talk him in to becoming a tire salesman for God to no avail.)

So we hope for, and work toward, and pray for the kind of children people expect us to have. But what if it doesn’t happen?

Just like I made a wrong turn for Zoya’s band concert, people make wrong turns in life. Our children aren’t exempt from that, even though we hope and pray they will be.

It’s time we start talking about the underbelly of parenting. Our kids aren’t perfect. Sometimes they choose to sleep with their boyfriends before marriage. Sometimes they run from God. Sometimes they decide they don’t believe in God.

Parents aren’t perfect. Pastor’s families definitely aren’t perfect (news flash: we are the same as everyone else with one pathetic exception: we usually have farther to fall.) We push too hard, or lose sight of the fact that God loves our children immeasurably more than we can fathom.

I need some help here!

My friend Kathi Lipp has a new book out called I need some help here! Hope for when your kids don’t go according to plan.

As soon as I saw the title, I had to read it. As a special needs mom, I know first hand that things ‘don’t go according to plan.’ But as my two older girls grow into adulthood (hello adolescence!), I’m feeling this struggle. I want so badly for them to trust God. I want them to want to honor him with what they do. And for the most part, they are. They do. But, here’s the thing… It’s not guaranteed. They are their own people. I know too much about life to assume they will do everything ‘according to plan.’ Here’s the back cover of Kathi’s book:

It’s easy to feel worried and anxious as a parent. There are so many areas of your child’s life that can go wrong along the way. What’s a mom to do? In I Need Some Help Here! Hope for When Your Kids Don’t Go According to Plan, Kathi meets you in your moments of panic or despair with wit and wisdom. She offers the most powerful tools, from prayer to practical tips, for you and your child. The book covers all of the stages of your child’s life from toddler to young adult and tackles the most common issues that cause stress and anxiety. Whether you are at the end of your rope, or simply need a little extra support as you walk the parenting road, you’ll cherish Kathi’s heart, humor and experience.

This was a good read. Scripture was peppered throughout. Prayers ended each chapter. I found practical tips to grab on to and implement right away. Stories ‘from the trenches’ helped me see that there are moms who have been there, and reassured me that others are ‘there’ right now.

What is your family dealing with today? Poor choices? Bullying at school? Depression?

Let me tell you what Kathi says in the book. It is okay if your children aren’t perfect. You don’t have to hide it or cover it up.

You and your kids are going to make wrong turns in your parent/child dance. ‘I need some help here!’ talks a lot about remembering who is really in control.

God loves our children more than we do.

Every day I find myself at a loss on how to help maneuver their ascension into adulthood. ‘I need some help here!’ left me buoyed as a mom, encouraged as a believer, and hopeful as a lover of my kids.

The pages of this book are sure to be worn out soon.

So, what happened with Zoya’s band concert?

We missed it. We missed it by a long shot. I looked over at my sweet girl as we zoomed across town. She was staring out the window and wiping tears from her cheeks.

“Zoya, I’m sorry. I really screwed up. And I am disappointed too. I couldn’t wait to see you play your trumpet on stage. Tell you what… It’s not a band concert, but how about we catch a movie?”

Zoya’s face brightened as I turned into the parking lot of our neighborhood theater.

That night she got popcorn and pop and candy. Was it great parenting? Who knows? And really, who cares? We hung out in the arcade afterward. I gave her quarters and watched her feed the machines. We giggled as the Pacman ate the dots. We high-fived when she got high score on another game.

I hugged her and tried to remember the moment and the day, even though it was painful and embarrassing.

Because I think I would rather remember then forget. And I know a lot more wrong turns are in our future. That’s just life.

The other day Zoya and I drove by the theater.

“Hey mom, remember when we missed my first band concert and went to a movie?” she asked.

“Yeah, I remember,” I replied while pulling the car up to a stop sign.

“Even though we took a wrong turn, it ended up being a pretty great day.”