Two days in a row with two posts. Whew. It's a lot and hoping I can get a better handle on the alphabet calendar over the weekend. Today is Day 3 in the A-Z blog challenge and then, because its the first Thursday in a brand new month, I'm also sharing what I read in March (in a separate post).
I know people land here for different reasons so if you're here to talk books that post is here. Now back to the alphabet and today's letter-
C is for grown Children
I started to say adult children but when I looked up the definition that one had a more negative connotation than using the term grown children. Who knew? I thought they were the same thing, but apparently the term adult children implies a level of dysfunction and the term grown children means small children who have grown to adulthood and are capable of independence and responsibility.
Mine land in the second category for sure.
I have grown children, children who are now as old as I sometimes feel in my head and think, hey it wasn't that long ago, but then I do the math and see it truly was. It's kind of funny to talk about parenting adult children because aren't we done with the parenting at some point?
Welcome to the wonderful world of mothering.
We never stop, right? I mean my 94-year old mother still tells me what lane I need to be in and did I know the speed limit is 25 on this road so yeah. We moms mother because we can't help ourselves. My children have children and husbands and homes of their own now, so where does that leave me?
Still here. Still mom. But lower case, not ALL CAPS.
I've got a few years under my belt in terms of parenting grown children...my oldest has been married for ten years now, and here's something I've learned. Mothers, the people who've loomed large and in charge throughout their children's lives, in this next act need to be not so large. More pocket sized.
My adult children don't need me to weigh in on absolutely everything. Instead they want to know I'm proud of them, that I trust their ability to make decisions, that I have compassion for whatever challenges they're facing, and that I'm praying for them...for their spouses and children too.
I actually love the mental picture of carrying my mom in my pocket.
When I long for her wisdom, for the way she could smooth over the rough edges of my life, for her belief in my ability to solve a problem and do the right thing, she's there...it's her voice in my head telling me everything will be okay.
I guess I'm a grown child too.
And I hope my girls carry me in their pocket.
Two posts in one day is a lot!! I did a post a day for one month a couple of years ago. If I did a link up, I used that as my day's post. Often during the month, I found myself sort of regretting the commitment and I think there were a couple of days that it was not feasible with also doing other obligations well. I enjoy a challenge and I enjoy writing but I want the latter to be on my own terms, I guess is what I'm trying to say! Anyway, glad YOU are doing the challenge, lol. Enjoyed your thoughts on a mother's role when her children are no longer kids. My own mom was pretty sick by the time I was a young adult. So whatever role I play in my kids' lives, it will be more than my mom played in mine. Have a great day!
ReplyDeleteI like that, a pocket sized mom. Cheers to C!
ReplyDeleteI love the thought of a pocket sized mom!!
ReplyDeleteI hope I'm a pocket sized Mum too! And yes we never stop wanting to mother our grown children. We just sometimes have to bite our tongues lol
ReplyDeleteYou are so right that this was exactly what the ladies at my lunch were talking about. It is a fine balancing act between being a part of their lives and not commenting on every aspect of their lives. As usual, thank you for your insightful and touching writing!
ReplyDeleteI did not know that they didn't mean the same thing, a pocket size mum sounds cute, I have a small purple handmade bear it is 10cm x 4cm or 4in x 1.5in that represents mum to me an identical one was buried with her. I also have a train broach I wear when I go out for dad, whenever I wear it I feel dad is with me.
ReplyDeleteSo sweet. I lost my mom to cancer in 1995. She was only 65. I love the thought of carrying her in my pocket. Thank you for that image! xo
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