Worry

email:
Is there a magic cut-off period when
offspring become accountable for their own
actions? Is there a wonderful moment when
parents can become detached spectators in
the lives of their children and shrug, 'It's
their life,' and feel nothing?
When I was in my twenties , I stood in a hospital
corridor waiting for doctors to put a few
stitches in my daughter's head. I asked, 'When do
you stop worrying?' The nurse said,
'When they get out of the accident stage.' My
Dad just smiled faintly and said nothing.
When I was in my thirties , I sat on a little
chair in a classroom and heard how one of my
children talked incessantly, disrupted the class,
and was headed for a career making
license plates. As if to read my mind, a teacher
said, 'Don't worry, they all go through
this stage and then you can sit back, relax and
enjoy them.' My dad just smiled
faintly and said nothing.
When I was in my forties , I spent a lifetime
waiting for the phone to ring, the cars to come
home, the front door to open.. A friend said,
'They're trying to find themselves. Don't worry,
in a few years, you can stop worrying. They'll be
adults.' My dad just smiled faintly
and said nothing.
By the time I was 50 , I was sick & tired of being
vulnerable. I was still worrying over my
children, but there was a new wrinkle. There
was nothing I could do about it. My
Dad just smiled faintly and said nothing. I
continued to anguish over their failures, be
tormented by their frustrations and absorbed in
their disappointments.
My friends said that when my kids got married I
could stop worrying and lead my own
life.. I wanted to believe that, but I was
haunted by my dad's warm smile and his
occasional, 'You look pale. Are you all right?
call me the minute you get home . Are
you depressed about something?'
Can it be that parents are sentenced to a
lifetime of worry? Is concern for one another
handed down like a torch to blaze the trail of
human frailties and the fears of the
unknown? Is concern a curse or is it a virtue
that elevates us to the highest form of life?
One of my children became quite irritable
recently, saying to me, 'Where were you? I've been
calling for 3 days, and no one answered I was worried.'
I smiled a warm smile.
The torch has been passed.
PASS IT ON TO WONDERFUL PARENTS
(And also to your children. That's the fun part)

My friend Steph send this in an email to me and I thought it was perfect timing... I had to go and talk to Noah's teachers about his behavior, yes, I know I am a worry wart...this I cannot help but my son has started talking back really bad, hitting me and not listening and basically telling me 'i don't care' and he has really started this in the last few weeks and it hasn't gotten better. What really ticks me off is that he doesn't pull this crap with his Dad and I have turned into the Mom that I didn't want to be, threatening to call his Dad to make him listen. Now, mind you, my Mom didn't beat me when I was little but I guarantee you she had the fear of her wrath in me that kept me in line, okay...I was a chicken because I know my sisters didn't have that fear because I remember witnessing shouting matches... humm... okay, I am getting off track here. Anyway, I feel like I need to call Supernanny because I need to learn to get my son to listen to me...he is 4, I am stressing because my 4 year old has an attitude! Then I am listening to my other girlfriend (sorry nini, but I gotta share this) tell me about her son sneaking out and driving the car to another town without permission and he is a great kid with two great parents! Jeez, I am freaking out because my son is FOUR!!!!!! Okay, breath in, breath out... serenity now, serenity now... :) Where was I at... Oh yeah, so I am thinking I might be raising a potential high school drop out career criminal because when I put him in time out he tells me 'i don't care'. I know everyone is thinking I am overreacting, and I am sure I am but basically please let it be known that when you hear people say parenting isn't easy, they are telling the truth. This email hits it right on the head, no one tells you that the baby shower should actually be a 'Congratulations life as you know it is over' party... cause let me tell you honey, ain't no chicken salad sandwich in this free world good enough to make it worth it. I love my son, and I hope i can be the best parent to him, but never in my life have i questioned my decisions so much... jeez... for now, I have to stick to my guns and find something that works. Last night, because he talked back and was being ugly... no cartoons (author's note, this was complete self torture), so I had my son following me around all evening saying 'please Mom please, I am so so sorry and i love you so so much, can I please watch cartoons' but I didn't give in, I stuck to my guns even though I wanted to kick myself in the tail... and you know what... it worked! AND thank god he fell asleep early...