I remember worrying about Mandy and Troy as they were growing up. From as early as if I should lay them on their stomachs or their backs to sleep (back then it was stomach’s), making sure the house was child proof, am I sending them to the proper pre-school, will they make friends in grade school, are they going to get their heart broken, ect. ect. I was mislead to believe that the older they got, the less my worries would be even though I heard my Mom say, “When their little, you have little worries. As they grow up, your worries become big ones.” Boy was she right!
It has nothing to do with the fact that I don’t trust them to do the right thing, it’s just the challenges they are taking now are completely out of my control. There is only so much I can do to help. I do everything I can possibly do, to be there for them, support them and keep in constant communication but that doesn’t mean I can solve every problem they have anymore.
For instance, if Mandy needed me, it would take me at least 2 days to get to her. Although right now, my personal passport has a different last name and I look like a completely different person. I don’t think I’m traveling anywhere on that one. My Military passport I can’t use unless it’s for moving purposes. So basically, just thinking about the fact that I haven’t updated my personal passport could send me into a panic attack. The potential list of people who actually have their passports ready that could fly over there is as follows:
Den
Papa (my Dad)
Lee (her Dad)
Kim (her Step-Mom)
You’re all great people, BUT you know it has to be either Nana (my Mom whom didn’t get her passport yet) or me that manages the situation! I hear the 4 of you chuckling and whispering, “control freak.”
While we are on the subject, if something happened to Troy, I am powerless. Although, if it happens at boot camp, look out drill instructors. Have you ever seen a drill instructor cry? This Mamma doesn’t play. Anyway, back on subject. From here on out with Troy and his career, he really doesn’t need me anymore. He is being taught to be 100% independent and to help his platoon. I can’t head to the desert to be there for him nor would he want me to! Side note: I personally think I would look cute in the uniform but it’s the beret I’m worried about. No way it’s staying on this head of hair.
Bottom line, enjoy your little one’s. Don’t fret over the small stuff. Save getting an ulcer for later in life. Continue to teach them to do things for themselves because someday, that’s what it’s going to come down to, whether us Mom’s like it or not.
P.S. From the time they hit 18, your stomach will be in knots, so stock up on TUMS now.
TAKE LIFE AS IT COMES
TAKE LIFE AS IT COMES
