I’ve talked in this blog about how much my daughter reminds me of myself and some of things we have in common, but I’ve yet to share some of those same things about my son. I haven’t written about him that much not because we are not close because we are, not because I am not extremely proud of him because I am and not because we don’t share funny moments because we do … I actually haven’t written that much about him, yet, because I understand that he doesn’t really want me to “talk” about him.
So when I blog about him, it may be rarely … But it’s not because I don’t want to, it’s because I will respect his wishes to a point. At the same time, he’s part of my life and I’m blogging about my life as a single mom so there you have it.
I probably understand him better than he thinks I do. I understand his feelings of frustration when I remind him one too many times to “get the oil changed in his car” and many, many, many other things. I love to remind him to do stuff. I can’t help myself for some reason to keep reminding him of the things that I think he needs to do. He also can’t help but take an attitude with me when I keep doing it. My mom still reminds me of things over and over again. What is it with us? When someone asks me too many questions, I start feeling like I can’t breathe … and I just want to run for cover. So, I know his frustration with me.
I also understand his need to move away from home again. He’s been living at home for several months, and he’s ready to move on and live with friends in his own place. He thinks I would rather have him home, a little more under my control, and maybe he’s right. It’s hard to let go. However, kids need to grow up … learn to get fend for themselves, do their own laundry and find their own way. I understand that, I do, in a real sense, and I want that for him because he wants it. But I’m his mom and I worry so much. Unless you are parent, you can never understand the burden of worry that takes over your life when you have children.
When he was away at school last year, he took care of himself and he was just fine. He can survive without me. What happens to me when I’m around my mom, and to him when he’s around me, is that we resort to letting our moms take care of us because we know that’s the place where they are most comfortable.
He’s moving away soon, and I’ve noticed he’s been in a really good mood, and I’ve just been feeling more and more anxious and upset. He’s having no trouble letting go, and I’m holding on obsessively.