No Goodbyes


Funny as I write on a social media platform I’m thinking about how right now the whole social media thing is all in my face.  And what I’m talking about are all the posts about parents sending their kids off to college, move in day, orientations etc etc. 

I’m not part of the bragging, posting, crying, driving, packing, shopping filled few days that is college drop off. 

Super proud that my daughter is an adult and has a kick ass apartment in a city that she loves near the college that she attends – don’t get me wrong. But I’m a little jealous watching everyone else’s goodbyes unfold on Facebook and Instagram. I kinda don’t want to see it yet at the same time wish I was feeling all those feelings and search that shit out. 

And yes. I had two years of the experience parents seem to dread, which in hindsight was pretty cool and exciting each year. New apartment, new roommates, new things for the apartment…..and then the dreaded trip back home. I miss that this year. 

I’ve given myself like another week of feeling sorry for myself. Then I’ll snap out of it. Still, this has been one instance that NOT saying goodbye feels worse than saying goodbye. Weird. 

You Just Wait


Nothing rings more true than parents uttering the words “just wait until you have kids”.  But it only has meaning to half of that equation. Us. Parents. 

Kids. (And adult kids). Have. No. Friggen. Idea. 

These are some of the words that take on a whole new meaning when you pair them with “wait until you have kids” – 

Hope

Disappointment

Fear

Respect

Hurt

Anger

Anticipation

Anxiety

Letting go or cutting the apron strings or loosening your grip, or whatever phase one happens to be dealing with with kids, never lessens the heart stopping, breath holding, beat down, and nauseous feelings we have deep in our soul, when it’s any of the above that pertains to our kids. Dealing with all that shit vs ourselves is way less intense. More manageable. 

I have found myself, less often, actually saying those words to my kids. Especially H. They don’t hear them. They don’t feel them. They have no concept. And for me, I have a hard time when I cannot drive my point, any point, home. So lately, why bother? They just don’t get it. 

But they will. 

And On The Fifth Day

  

Middle school is basically when I cut the apron strings with H and with C. And if the masses were reading this, I’m guessing most would be appalled. So given the fact that this has been G’s first full week of middle school, our conversations have revolved around the said “cutting of the strings”. 

He doesn’t care. 

And by doesn’t care, I mean, he expected it and has no problem with it. And can I just say, the transition with him has been nothing short of holy shit. He is so ready. And so mature. And so able to handle this responsibility. H and C maybe not so apparent in 6th grade. But seeing them grow into the people they are, I have no doubts that my way has worked. And it will be no different with G. 

Funny thing is, G communicates a lot better than the other two ever did. And the things that have come out of his mouth this whole week has left me in awe of the little person he already is. My stomach turns a little, thinking that I don’t think I handled things as well as he is when I was 11. 11 today is a whole helluva lot different than back in 19whenever…….

His foreword thinking is incredible. His confidence is crazy good. So fingers crossed things just keep getting better for him. I am too busy making peace with the fact that I have my last kid in middle school, that I have little time left worrying about how he’s handling this. 

When necessary though, I will not hesitate to be a bitch or ride him like a pony when necessary. If you ask the older two, I’m sure they see that as my trademark mom move. 

The Uneventful Event

The two thirds that remain in the nest, flitted off to the first day of 6th grade and the first day of the last year of high school.  And that was that. 

C left at the crack of dawn to have breakfast with the girlfriend before school. Then B left for work. And then G. Bing. Bang. Boom. 

Of course when it came down to packing G’s lunch, which is new this year, of course the overstocked pantry had “nothing he liked”. He IS becoming his brother. The super cool shirt I just bought for him and ironed for today…. well…..” he didn’t really care for it”. Another C trait. And I got the exact same answer from both boys about the days end – good. I’d hoped G would continue to be G. Sweet. Caring. And Mamas boy. Not so much I guess. 

I guess good sums up my day, too. As it was same ol’ same ol’ – just no one around to NOT help me. LOL

H is finishing up summer classes which will lead right into Junior year of college. What. The. Hell.  I won’t be around her for that transition and she seems to be just fine with that, not in a roll my eyes kinda way, but more like a she doesn’t need me and is good kinda way. 

It is sad to think those days of celebrating the first day back is dead and gone.  I’m struggling with uneventful-ness. Because hell, that’s boring. And. Today. Was. Boring. 

Listening and Learning

It took a little over two hours total of facetimeing with H yesterday to catch up with her. While my intention was to be a mom and have a “learning moment” pertaining to being an adult and respecting the fact that there are responsibilities that accompany that, it turned into quite the learning moment for me as well. 

And it actually happened because I listened. I didn’t just listen to her words, for the sake of just hearing her speak and then talk over her, but shutting my mouth and actually hearing what she was saying. Sometimes that had nothing to do with the words, but her facial expressions. (Thank God for FaceTime!) I felt what she was saying. I’m not always really good at that, but at this moment in her life, I think it’s critical that I sharpen up that skill. 

The end result – it’s the same for all parents I’m sure – we will do ANYTHING for our kids. 

The Blame Game 

I am super good at holding myself accountable for what I have said and done. 52 years to practice being strong enough to admit when I am wrong. 

When you are a parent and you cannot rightfully blame yourself for something, I think we have a tendency to immediately try to place the blame somewhere. I say we, because this morning I was totally surprised at the stance B had taken, knowing H is sad and upset that she is heading home to Houston this morning. Let’s blame M. Bill has and sure as shit, I have.  I don’t want my kids to hurt. I want whomever is responsible for that hurt, to hurt more. In my heart I am yearning to know if M is more sad, more upset, beside himself sick that H is gone. 

I’m finding also that when I think about C I can almost feel myself feeling some resentment toward S. How can she be ok with screwing with my sons heart knowing she will be leaving him and everyone else at the end of senior year?  Is she why he isn’t going to go back to swim?  Is she going to be occupying that time instead?  Ugh ugh ugh. 

What does this all mean?  Speculating is disastrous. It is unwarranted most times. It’s just downright stupid because it clouds ones true feelings. I like M. And I like S. A lot. 

The Job

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Is part of the parents job to find something wrong in everything?  I find myself creating unsubstantiated reasons to not like M for H.

I have heard the word perfect come out of H’s mouth more often than not. And while my logical self sees that perfection most times, when my head starts thinking of various scenarios I can find the not-so perfect like it’s my job.

Speaking of job…….He has no job. Yet.  He has no career. Yet. He is an only child. His home is 2600 miles away from H’s. Again my logical sense tells me that YET is the operative word in this setting.  See…. I do try to be logical. My logical sense also tells me that I do not have a video recorder strapped to either one of them, so how the hell do I even know if any of those imperfections I’ve created, even exist?  I don’t. And that drives me nuts.

Is that even my right to know?  Brings me back to thinking about boundaries….