I had a day and evening with a friend of fifteen years, who is also an empty nester. Both of our girls are seniors in college. We hadn
by Natalie Caine | submitted on November 3, 2006
I know this sounds so insecure and if you knew me, you would be shocked to hear me write these words. First, I am not an insecure woman or mother. I am just feeling out of control. Yes, I have a full life, blah blah blah. That is not the issue.
My daughter is coming home for Thanksgiving from her junior year in college. We have a good relationship, but this year has been less connected. She expresses confusion, doubts, things she doesn’t like about me, which is healthy in the bigger picture. My insecurity is wanting a pleasant turkey holiday and my not being able to handle her mood shifts or anger if it shows up. I don’t need perfection or Martha Stewart moments. I do need to not walk on egg shells since some feelings she has, she is not ready to talk about, Unknown is hard to hold, at times. In other words, there might be tension between us since not all has been said to each other.
My bubble burst when she first revealed some of her pain about me. I did deal with it well and acknowledged her courage in telling me. I said what was true for me and not true.
Gosh, I just think I want a break from problems. I know that is unreal. I know I should feel that I could handle whatever comes my way, but truth is, I don’t feel that way today. Maybe tomorrow I will feel bigger than a problem that might arrive in my delicious smelling pumpkin kitchen that has memories of, “I am so thankful for being your mom.” I am so thankful you are my mom, cause you are the best mom any kid could ever have.”
Hope I don’t dry out the turkey and burn the stuffing, but I wish that were my only concern. I want that innocence back where kids just look up at you with that glow and grin. They wrap their sweet arms around your neck.
Well, these days, I don’t like the way my neck looks, just like Nora Ephron wrote in her newest book.
Ok, thanks for listening. I just needed to say I want a break from problems.
Can anyone relate?
Out of control MOM
Each year we get less adorable trick or treaters. I still love opening the door and hearing,
I still don
I am curious about what sacrifices you made over the years of parenting. For sure, sleep and money would be on my list. I don
My daughter
I remember the excitement and stress of Rachael heading towards college when she was a senior in high school. SAT, college application deadlines, the essay, college tour planning, finances, hours for community service, fears of rejection, and clueless thoughts about which college was the right fit for her. Rachael found the fit and is a happy senior in the college of her choice.
The emotional roller coast came to town when she was in high school. Our household and the parents and friends we had as a community were living the last fill in the blank, soccer game, etc. and the jumping up and down or deep cries of ,
It has been a week of bitter news so I thought I would warm it up a little.
How I start my day? My new habit is to light a pumpkin spice candle that sits in a jar in our bathroom. My fear of forgetting to blow it out is covered by a post it I leave in my car,
by Mary Wills | submitted on October 2, 2006
I am the very proud Mother of one wonderful child – my son, Zach. We’ve been on our own for 12 of his 21 years on the planet. I had not thought his leaving home for college would be THAT difficult. After all, my friends said “you’ll be glad when he’s gone” “when he comes home for holidays, you’ll count the days until he leaves!” I don’t know if I just have not reached that stage yet (he’s been gone 6 weeks) or if their memories are failing them. What I DO know is this is very, very hard. I don’t fully know who I am if I am not his hands’ on Mom. I am not sure what my “Mom duties” are now, as the following illustrates.
As a young child, whenever my son was sick enough to miss school, I stayed home from work to take care of him. I’d tuck him in, bring him anything he needed/wanted, take his temperature a hundred times a day, sit with him, read to him, etc. Of course, I no longer did all of those things once he was older, but he still needed me. Up until two months ago, if he was ill, he would struggle to raise his head from the pillow I had so tenderly plumped up repeatedly and croak out the words “M-o-m, can I have some T-y-l-e-n-o-l p-l-e-e-e-e-a-s-e?” This was said barely above a whisper so that I got the message that he was really sick (he learned this from his Father). If I did not hear this plea because he was TOO weak to speak up (NOT) he would use his cell phone to call me in the next room! Okay, so this does sound extreme, but he’s such an independent kid, it was one of the few times I really felt needed..
Well, that’s come to a screeching halt! He’s a Junior at University and living with his girlfriend, Melissa, and a guy pal. Two weeks ago Zach called home sounding terrible. All stuffy, coughing, sneezing (probably inhaling pepper for effect) and wheezing. My immediate response was to grab my car keys, slip on shoes and head for the door. I would bring my boy (21 years old, 6’3″) what he needed; neither sleet, nor snow, nor distance would stop me. As I vaulted down the stairs two by two I was shouting the words “What do you need honey? I am on my way there.” It was then he uttered the six most awful, gut-wrenching words I’ve heard him say (thus far). He said “MELISSA IS TAKING CARE OF ME.” SHOT through the heart! WHAT did he just say to ME? Melissa is taking care of him? Melissa IS TAKING CARE OF HIM?? Don’t they know that’s MY JOB? I stopped dead in my tracks and managed to say “Oh, that’s great honey, call me when you’re feeling better.” I slumped to the floor and cried and realized Melissa is quite capable of caring for a case of the sniffles..
Some days I feel like a ship without a rudder; other days I feel happy and every day I am proud of him. Almost every day I wonder “What will I do with the rest of my life?” It’s exciting, while scary at the same time. Zach must have ambivalence as well. We’ll both make it through, I am sure. It’s the ups and downs that get ya, which reminds me of the many afternoons we spent at the park on his favorite ride, the see-saw, up and down, up and down … Maybe it’s not all that different, he’s still on one end of the see-saw while I am on the other,as we both work diligently to find that delicate balance. Hopefully, it can still be fun too!.
– Mary Wills
Am I having separation anxiety? What the heck is happening to me?
A mom called this morning attached to her Kleenex box,
I was at UCLA talking with some proud and tearful parents. They are moving their kids into the dorms. One mom said,
My phone was ringing and ringing with messages of
Natalie Caine, M.A. natalie@lifeintransition.org