The other day my 18 year old son had a conversation with my mom, the normal grandma type talk about school, siblings, struggles (good thing my mom was a social worker). My mom shared with me part of the conversation and it went something like this:
AJ: ‘I think mom is getting weird, like really paranoid.’
Grandma: ‘Why do you say that?’
AJ: ‘She’s always asking where I am, if I’m drinking or doing drugs. Is that part of menopause?’
My mom laughed out loud then proceeded to explain the trials and tribulations of being a mom to teens. She also shared her story of when my brother and I were teens and she started growing bald from all the stress we put her through which then made my son laugh out loud. Literally she was losing her hair and was diagnosed with alopecia when I hit high school but was fine before I graduated college.
Being a mom to teens is hard. I believe my gray hairs are showing themselves at record pace but of course we worry about our kids the minute we welcome them into this world. My son will probably never know that when he was born 5 weeks early and placed in the NICU incubator I held my breath, that when he had his first asthma attack at the age of one I cried and couldn’t breathe myself, or when he had a cold on top of asthma as an infant I would sleep with him on my chest sitting up so his nose wouldn’t plug up laying down, or when he continued to need breathing treatments well into elementary from 
asthma I would lie awake in his room on the floor listening to him struggle to breathe and set my alarm every 4 hours for his breathing treatment. He will probably never know that when he would get hit as a quarterback in 7th and 8th grade I would physically feel sick to my stomach, or the time he cried because he couldn’t understand math and wanted to give up that I cried too. He won’t know that when he didn’t make the varsity basketball team and he sat in his room and cried that I was sitting in my room crying harder because when your child’s dream dies a part of you dies with it. He may never know that when my cancer diagnosis was bad I would lie awake in my hospital bed crying thinking about him and his siblings and willing myself to fight just for them.
So today, it’s not menopause or paranoia, it’s love and the process of trying to let go (ok maybe peri-menopause). I ask the questions because I want to know. I ask them so he knows I care. The world is hard and at 18 they think they know it all. In a few short months he’s graduating high school and leaving for college. I still want to hold him, I still want to take care of him. I want him to know how much he’s loved. His hurts will always be my hurts, his joys will be greater joys to me. All I can do is pray, trust God, and KEEP ASKING MY PARANOID QUESTIONS đ
Parents rarely let go of their children, so children let go of them. They move on. They move away. The moments that used to define them – a mother’s approval, a father’s nod – are covered by moments of their own accomplishments. It is not until much later, as the skin sags and the heart weakens, that children understand; their stories, and all their accomplishments, sit atop the stories of their mothers and fathers, stones upon stones, beneath the waters of their lives.     — Mitch Albom
Today I wear Kat Von D Studded Kiss Lipstick in Lullabye. If you want great color and staying power Kat Von D is the brand. The lipticks are not super moisturizing but not super dry either. This is a fun color for spring with sparkles. I chose it mainly for the name because I used to sing lullabies to the kids when they were young. Cheers!
have today’ attitude. Life, I mean real life, happens in the ‘in between’. In between jobs, kid stuff, activities, vacations, etc. we spend a whole lot of time in anticipation of the next game, the next season, the next vacation, and we work and focus on those things but what about all the routine we chalk up to ‘a normal day’? That’s the real grit of life. All of the mundane, the annoying things, the actions and reactions, the relationships…all of the stuff that transpires in the monotonous in between spaces of daily living, that is life. If you rush through to just get to the ‘next’, you’ll miss it. Don’t miss living.
lips. I’m hoping I can find it locally since I bought it from a store about 4 hours away. It’s great, and lipstick never looks good on dry lips! Cheers!
older, start to get more self-sufficient, start to become more influenced by friends and media, then of course, start to talk back. Why is it that the most difficult time for raising a child happens at the exact time they are about to leave home?
there are others when I want to never let him go. He pretends to be fiercely independent but then will ask for something simple or say something which points to the fact that he is still young, a child. I think it’s more difficult with boys because somewhere around the age of 12/13 they start talking with one word answers while girls get more emotional but don’t really stop talking/yelling/whining and still communicating with you. I was told a long time ago that when boys leave home conversations become scarce until they find a wife or serious girlfriend who then becomes the central communicator between mom and son again.
My son’s been receiving college acceptance letters. When he got his first acceptance letter I was so happy for him but my heart dropped because reality showed itself. He is a young adult. He can vote, check into a hotel, maybe rent a car, he’s had a job for a couple years now, etc. yet in this last year he is home I want to hug him more, have him around me more, and kind of spoil him because it has gone way too fast. My first baby who was born 5 weeks early with giant eyes and the longest eyelashes is going to be my first to go. How can I be joyful and heartbroken at the same time?
Anna's Lipstick Journey 