As I go through the day-to-dayness of my life, I know I too often get caught up in the little things that don’t matter: messy rooms, imperfections, things “I” want to accomplish. And when it comes down to it, it won’t matter.
As a child, I could work myself into an hysterical, sobbing mess just thinking of my parents dying. Luckily, now that I have the gospel, those thoughts no longer have the same power over me. What terrifies me now? (Well, aside from actually losing one of my kids.) My kids growing up.
I’m scared of the days to come when they no longer want to hang out with their parents; when they don’t want kisses, hugs, and cuddles; when they develop serious attitudes; when they feel like they hate us when they go on missions, away to college, or just out on their own; when they decide they need to move far away to fulfill their dreams; when they marry and have children and don’t relish the idea of Mom being a daily part of their lives; when they’re too busy with their lives to call their Mom.
I mean, my children are my life. (I know mothers throughout time have said this and felt this way, but right now, it’s all about me.) Everything I do every day revolves around them. Feeding, dressing, cleaning up after, planning for, shopping for, playing games with, disciplining, worrying about – it’s all the kids. What the heck am I going to do when they don’t need me anymore? I know my life will go on, I’m not that naive. And I actually want them to have their own lives and become their own people, not live in my basement until they’re 35. But I really don’t look forward to losing them in any capacity. And I don’t want to be excluded from their lives.
I’ve decided that’s why teenagers are such turds. So that by the time they’re 18, their parents no longer have this compelling need to keep them close. They just want them and their attitudes gone! But then, I don’t look forward to that either.
But I’m the Mom and that’s what I do: worry endlessly about things I can neither control nor predict. Nobody ever mentioned this part of being a mother.