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Now that my children are technically grown, I've had to find other things to occupy the space in my head that yells at them to do homework. I've recently lost a lot of weight, so I have more energy and have begun to consider that I could actually get something done in the evenings. The problem is that my husband likes to hang out in my office, watching TV, and surfing the internet for car parts he doesn't need.
Community Events, October 2016
Last Friday I had great intentions to accomplish a lot. I don't know why they got derailed. It could have been the hurricane in Florida. My gardening friend and her family were in the path, but I had already checked in with her and she was not even in an evacuation zone. Maybe it was my heartfelt sorrow for the people of Haiti. At least most people in the U.S. have insurance and some sort of shelter, fresh water and food. But those people in Haiti have no other resources.
I write a lot about my angst over my daughters because I compare them to what I read on Facebook. It's a mistake, because Facebook is the best 5 percent of everyone's lives. So we compare 100 percent of our lives to 5 percent of others' best. It's a 21st century self-confidence problem, to be sure.
As colleges started these last couple weeks, I realized there is a comparable agony to the empty nest syndrome: when your kids aren't leaving and you don't see any signs of them taking steps toward their futures. It's not that I'm not proud of my kids, I am. They don't get in trouble, they aren't abusing controlled substances and they have jobs. They haven't been arrested (although in a totally odd, random family conversation we've decided that if you're going to be arrested you should go big and get arrested by the FBI). My biggest complaint about them is it would be nice if they did the dishes once in awhile, without being told. My issue is that they don't seem they want as much for themselves as I want for them. I don't want them to wait for life to start happening. It's already started; they just need to get on the carousel. They seem to have dreams, but are slow to pursue them. My oldest, who has attention deficit disorder, has a difficult time wrapping her head around change. My youngest just graduated from high school, is simply tired of school and wanted a break.
I have failed in my duties as a mother. I have not prepared my children to go out into this world and survive on their own. The other day my 19 year old asked me how one would get a package from our house to her friend's dorm in San Diego.