My husband, younger son and I drove up to visit my firstborn this past weekend, and to see his new apartment. Here’s what’s in his kitchen.
Those are binders full of recipes. This is a person who has always loved to organize information, and now has discovered the joy of cooking. He and his roommate couldn’t even recommend any local restaurants because they hardly eat out. “I can make better food at home cheaper.”
Wow! That feeling when your child passes you in the adulting thing.
My Mother’s Day started with this message on my phone from my oldest kid:
Which makes me think I raised him right.
My kids both have birthdays this week. They will be 24 and 21, even though there’s a part of me that refuses to accept the information, a part of my identity that is permanently stuck at being the mom of a 4-year-old and 7-year-old. I’m not sure why that particular point in time. It’s just the feeling of who I am.
There’s a lot to be said for being the mom of adults, though. I never have to nag anyone to shower. I never have to do another parent-teacher conference. If I want to go on a bike ride by myself, I can just go.
I think that’s why parents and children can become friends as life goes on. Because the parents no longer have to be guardians and gatekeepers. Well, there’s still a little of that going on with the younger one. But for the most part, I’ve done what I can do to guide my children to adulthood, for better or worse. It’s up to them now to remember to shower. Meanwhile I get to reap the rewards of gaining a couple of new friends.