Mother’s Day has taken on new meaning having become an Empty Nester. The kiddos have flown the coop, starting their own lives, and while I’m still, and will always be their Mum, I don’t expect or need a big flautin’ tootin’ acknowledgement of being their mother. Thanks, but not needed, Hallmark. Another calendar guilt day. Whoa–wait–stop–I didn’t mean to go in this quasi-negative direction. Of course, getting a card or phone call or even flowers is sweet and appreciated, but everyday I’m reminded that it is so cool I’m a mom of three very lovely children who have become adult just that fast. The youngest turned 21 in March and the oldest will be turning the *yikes* 29 in June. How’d that happen? Wasn’t it moments ago I was telling them:
- Hey! I’m your mother not the maid. Pick up your stuff!
- Don’t make me come back there!
- Just try one bite–
- It’s your brother’s turn to pick the movie.
- No, I don’t have money for candy.
- You can have one–I said one.
- Not before dinner.
Now that they are adults, I find the following conversationals happening:
- How’s work going?
- Is this a “friend” or a friend?
- Do you need gas money?
- What are you doing for the holidays?
- Is it okay if Pops and I come over?
- Do you want to meet at the restaurant?
Yes, I notice they tend to be questions rather than statements? Why is that? Maybe it’s because I can’t really tell my kids to get a haircut, or that they should tidy up their apartment anymore. But I guess I do. *Sigh* I really can’t stop being a mother so easily. There is not switch off once the kinder become A-dults. That Mom drive just keeps going.
So, this post is dedicated to my children. You make Mother’s Day happen everyday–not only some designated May Sunday.
And this is why I wrote that essay that got in Chicken Soup for the Soul: The Multitasking Mom’s Survival Guide.
Now that you have all moved out and have your own lives I finally do have “A Little Piece of Quiet.”
Loves and Hugs, Mum