Now that my children are adults, I’ve realized that I’m a better texting mom, than an ‘in person’ one…
While texting I can delay my answers, think more in depth on the question, and step away more easily. I’m sort of a peer, sort of…
When texting my ‘adults’ (code for my children) they don’t see my eyes, which means that over-bearing mom thing, can’t be seen.
I know they like when I visit, but they also see things in my eyes, things I can’t hide. The “I can help you hang those clothes up.” look, the “Do you need help with grocery shopping?” glance and the “Shouldn’t those bills be filed?” blink. I know, I know, I’m becoming my Mother….
But is becoming her so bad? She had four daughters, how did she do it, as well as my dad who kept us all hopping. Perhaps all she had time for were the glances; the ones I’m giving now. Glances that came from tired but caring eyes, which I’m sure, were met with the same sighs I now receive.
I’m still learning how NOT to be the “fixer” mom and become the observer. I am working on how to down shift from the “help you with everything” mother, to the “I know you’ll figure it out” mom. And though I know we gave our children all the building blocks to become successful, caring humans, the watching and not helping is so very painful.
I have managed to step back from my son, but if he called or needed something I’d be right there, after a 5 hour drive, of course. He’s making a life and a home with his lovely girlfriend, who didn’t get to experience my eyes wandering over his countertops and bedroom floor a few years ago – lucky girl.
But it’s the daughter who is just starting off on her own. Wings spread, with no fear and the attitude “you only live once.” She’s killing me… My overwhelming desire to help, clean, arrange, and organize is not necessarily “her” ideas and she has been on the receiving end of that mom eye-thing a lot lately (sorry honey). She is just on the verge, as my son was 4 years ago, of starting her own journey and that is why texting will be my saving grace. I will be there at the touch of a button, while keeping those mom eyes at bay.
I hope to graduate from a good texting mom to a better talking mom, like my Mom eventually did with me in my early 30’s. She visited me, without Dad, we ate donuts, drank margaritas and held hands at the zoo. That’s the mom I’m striving for, the “I can’t wait to talk to you again” mom.
This is for you Mom, gone 22 years yet it seems like yesterday. Can’t wait to talk to you again…
Grateful for you,