I don’t {usually|typically} write about myself but today I will make an {exception|exemption}.
Being the mother of four grown and {almost|roughly} grown and not yet grown children is interesting to say the least.
My morning started as {peacefully|serenely} as always, I get up very early go for a walk and then sit at my computer for an hour {getting|receiving} all the emails and other stuff done before the real working day starts.
The peace starts to {dissipate|dispel} when I have to wake my son to have his shower. I know he should get up by himself and get into the shower and get {ready|prepared} without his mother telling him to do anything, he is after all {leaving|parting} school at the end of the year and for all intense and purposes be an adult. But in there lies one of my dilemmas, he is in the most {stressful|demanding} year of his school life (and has never taken school particularly seriously) and needs support to get through it but he is also needing to be {trained|taught} as a man to go out into society and be a productive cog in the wheel.
My number two son, who was about as {messy|untidy} and unstructured as anyone I’ve ever come across, has ended up with a {lovely|beautiful} girl who has been strong enough to say no to many of his drop it where it lands habits and they have a nice home. He has his own room, {full|filled} of boy’s toys and his clothes. I think this is {really|actually} clever of her, she does not have to complain about his clothes being all over the bedroom {because|since} she doesn’t have them in it.
{Anyway|neverless} back to the morning, once one is up and I have the other one dressing (first year high school girl) I go to make lunches (yes, I know they could do this themselves but again I was {trained|taught} as a nutritionist and actually don’t mind packing a lunch) Anyway, it is a mute subject because there was no bread, so I just had to pack a few snacks and give the pack money which I {really|actually} don’t like to do because they eat crap.
The thing that I {really|truly} do not understand is that if I know they need to leave the house at 8.10am each morning and I say it daily then how is it that they have not picked up this piece of information by osmosis instead of waiting for the mother town crier to {bellow|yell} the time.
And why, oh why, would you wait until 3 minutes before the {allotted|agreed} time to remember that you have to print out 5 different documents, even if they are only a page or so thick.
I have been mothering for nearly twenty five years now and these sort of things still drive me crazy, I think it is a bit like child birth. We {forget|overlooked} what we were like, the same as we forget the {agony|anguish} of birth. Why, so we can have children and bring them up to have children.
So {basically|mainly} by the time my darlings left this morning I was a cranky mommy who only an hour before had been a fit, {excited|eager} individual looking forward to the day and everything it held.
There is of course but one {solution|answer}, get up earlier, and wake them earlier. But really to get my {peaceful|seren} time this means I get up around 5ish. Does this mean I’m getting old?
Source: Single Parenting –The Morning Run
Popularity: 1% [
If you’re new here, you may want to subscribe to my RSS feed. Thanks for visiting!
Perfectly expressed. I am sure everyone who reads this will feel a lot better, being able to identify with a similar situation and feeling secretly guilty.
My mother was a single parent – and I think I turned out okay
God bless you.
.-= Vidya Sury´s last blog ..The Three Idiots (not the movie) =-.