By: Wendy S. Marcus
I’m a mush. I may not seem like it, but I am. I love my children with a force that could power the planet – if only I could figure out how to harness it. And as much as I longed for privacy and peace and the ability to read a magazine article, from start to finish, without interruption, when my children were little, with each milestone, each step they take toward venturing out in the world without me, I get choked up.
First day at day care, I lingered, wiping my eyes, hoping no one would see.
First day of school, I put each of my children on the bus, and then proceeded to follow it – while fighting tears – to make sure the bus actually took them to the right school and they actually made it into the building without being kidnapped.
And I must share, to this day, one of my children in college and two in high school, while I no longer follow the bus; I still get emotional on the first day of school each year. It’s a new chapter in my children’s lives. A stepping stone that will take them that much closer to leaving me.
I bring this up because, at the end of June, I dropped my 14-year-old daughter off at sleep away camp for two months. As much as I look forward to the break, I still get teary-eyed as soon as we enter the gates.
“Not again,” my daughter said, laughing at me.
I laughed, too, despite the tears leaking down my cheeks.
“There he is,” she noticed someone in the crowd. “Don’t touch your eyes. Look away. This is so embarrassing.”
Yeah. I know. She’s been going to sleep away camp for four years. Enough already. I’m happy to say by the time I left the car to begin the registration process I’d pulled myself together. Until it was time to leave.
“You can go now,” my daughter said as soon as we’d finished hauling in her stuff.
The camp suggests parents shouldn’t stick around as it may make the separation more difficult for the child. What about the parents?
“After I make your bed,” I said. So I could inspect her mattress. And dust any cobwebs. And oh look. The outlet. I took the opportunity to plug in her power chord before someone else used it. And since I was there I hooked up her fan and alarm clock.
“Good bye, Mom,” my daughter tried again, when she’d caught me looking for something else to do.
I hugged her. “Good bye, honey.” It wasn’t enough. “Walk me, out.”
“Really? Is that necessary?” she asked.
Heck yeah, it was necessary. I wasn’t going to be able to hug her for two long months. “I’ll leave after you walk me out.”
She huffed, but followed me.
Outside she was more concerned with who was watching us than a heartfelt good bye. But she hugged me, and after a quick kiss on the cheek, she returned to her bunk without looking back.
While I fought to maintain my composure as I drove to the exit.
Why? I know she’s safe. She has lots of friends and is going to have a wonderful summer.
When will it end? When will I come to terms with the fact I’ve raised happy, well-adjusted children who embrace each phase of their lives? I’ve done my job well, and now it’s time to let them experience the world.
Without me.
And therein lies the crux of the problem.
So what about you? Are you a mushy mommy? What sets you off? If you’re children are grown and out on their own, does the mushiness go away? Please click on the number next to the title of this post to comment.
I never think I’m going to be mushy. I always think I’m not and then I really, really am. I put my kids on a bus to go to day camp for the first time this summer. Its the first time I haven’t driven them to wherever they were going. As I walked them to the bus, my oldest (6) looks at me and says ‘Mommy, don’t cry’ like the idea of my bursting out in tears horrified him. I kept it together until they pulled away. I can completely see how I will be tearing up for the rest of my life.
Hi Rebecca!
See! You don’t seem like a mush, either. It’s this motherhood thing. And I try to hide it and hold it together, too. But my kids look for it now. “She’s crying.” “No I’m not.” (sniffle)
And something about school buses gets me every single year. Still. Sometimes I expand my mushiness to include sympathizing with all the moms who will be sending their children to school for the first time. And to be honest, I’ve teared up at the end of the summer, when I’ve seen the buses doing their practice runs, knowing the first day of school was coming.
Thanks for stopping by and sharing. I don’t feel quite so stupid anymore!
OMG, this post was for me. First day of kindergarten, I collapsed onto the driveway in hysterics. The bus driver stopped the bus and literally called out to my husband, who gripped me with both arms, if I am ok and if we need an ambulance. My poor son.
First day of pre-k. Kept it together until the door closed, then snuck into the adjoining gym and peered through a crack in the wall to make sure he stopped crying.
I cry at every milestone because I am humbled and honored at everything they do and I get to be a part of. I hate it though – a bit emotionally draining and embarassing.
I posted a few weeks ago on facebook how I was freaking out that my little one was graduating from prek. I received all these shocked emails asking if he was going into kindergarten. I sheepishly had to write back that he was graduating from 2 day class to 3 day class. Needless to say, the barrage of emails I received back made me gulp in shame!!!
Hi Jen!
There is NO shame here at 4badmommies. Your feelings are your feelings. They are real and valid, and I’m sure, also experienced by a representative sample of other moms out there!
Pre-K is emotional stuff. Glad to know you’re a lurker just like me!
*So* glad it’s not just me
I watched Glee last night. Cried. Watched the highlights of Kate and William’s tour to Canada and the US. Cried again. But mostly it is stuff to do with my kids. I dropped my middle son’s lunch off today (he’s 14) and he wouldn’t kiss me in front of his friends. I had to ring him as he walked off to make sure he still loved me. He does
Most of all I sit and think of the flowery dedications I want to write in my books if I ever get published. That sends me into floods of tears when I try to find the words that would explain how I feel about my kids.
*runs off for tissues for leaky eyes*
Hi Joanne!
That’s a big deal when your sweet little angels put a stop to public displays of affection! My oldest tried to cut back on them in private, too. Not gonna happen! I’m a huggy/kissy person – especially with my kids.
I have to give Kudos to my 17-year-old son. While he doesn’t kiss me, he does offer the top of his head for me to kiss him. (I’ve warned him some girl will take offense to that one day!) He’s the only one of my three who kisses (well – offers his head for a kiss) every night before bed. (The other two I have to go looking for.) And every time I end a call to him and say, “I love you.” He responds with an, “I love you, too.” At a friends house. On the track or soccer bus on the way home from a meet/game. I absolutely love that. Now getting my oldest to show affection is a challenge. But I badger her until I get my way. The youngest is affectionate when she wants something or feels cuddly so I take it when I can get it!
Thanks for stopping by!
All of you are so sweet. I must be the horrible mommy. I did follow my oldest child’s bus to school. And, I worried about him when he was in day care. Milestones fly by as my boys grow quickly. But, I’m very careful about letting them have their space.
I’m sure when I send Jacob off to Kindergarten this year, I will cry. It’s a new role for me. No more “toddler mommy” or “pre-school” mommy. I will be “school-age mommy.” Another role to conquer that I’m probably not quite ready for.
Not making sense, as usual. But, it’s a great post.
Abbi
Hi Abbi!
You make total sense. As always!
As moms we adjust to the changes – some easier than others. Because, ultimately, one of the signs we did a good job is our children living independent, productive lives. And nurturing that starts young (and begrudgingly!)
Thanks for stopping by!
Before I had kids I would not have considered myself mushy by any stretch of the imagination. Now, I sometimes cry at sappy commercials!! Sheesh!
Hi Aimee!
The Maxwell House commercials around Christmas time usually set me off!
Hope your final edits are going well!
What a lovely moving post and all the comments above. Thank you, Wendy, now I know that I’m not a freak!
Hi Nas!
Glad you enjoyed it! And you are NOT a freak! How is the weather in paradise?
Thanks for stopping by!
I’m a mushy mom most days. My oldest is home from college for the summer – though between his sixty hour work week, the new girlfriend, and his guy pals, I don’t see a lot of him. Still it’s more than I see of him in the school year when he’s 5 hours away. I am dreading the end of August when he goes back to college. Except…
Okay, I AM muschy mom MOST of the time. But there is this little part of me that once in a while whispers, “in the fall…freedom!”
That happens mostly when I’ve gone to bed with a clean kitchen and wake up to a dirty one or have to leave a project I’m really cooking on to make their dinner or find their socks.
Even as you write about being a mushy mommy you do it with humor! What a skill!
Hi Regina!
I hear you about he home from college thing. I look forward to my daughter coming home, but we fall into the same patterns. “Clean your room” “It’s my room and I like it this way.” It’s in my house.” That’s no fun. Yet I am always sad when she leaves. Always! Just thinking of it now makes me sad – and she’s at college through the summer!
Hi Nancy!
Thank you!
Sometimes I feel if I don’t laugh I’ll cry….and I’d rather laugh!
Thanks for stopping by!
Oh this one really got to me. Esp. the part about following the bus fighting back the tears. I too try to hold ‘em back despite all odds and probably cling a little too hard and am way too emotional after all milestones – loose teeth throw me into a tizzy, so do impending birthdays. My kids tease me – the day after her 6th bday Ella was saying how “she’s almost 7 now, then 8, then 18…” and I have to put my hands over my ears. The hardest part about being a parent is knowing they are on loan to us, and they don’t belong to us…but to the future. Great post – thanks! (-;
Hi Ado!
On loan to us? Where is that written? I want to amend my contract!!!! Now that they are independent – for the most part- and fun to have around I want to keep them. For ever and ever and ever……
No so mushy. I just swell with pride when I watch my kid figure out how to do things on her own – like make a sandwich. Even when she covers the kitchen in peanut butter the fact she did it by herself makes me proud.
Hi Kim!
Good point! Because, after all, our goal IS to raise happy, well-adjusted, independent people, right? And I am so proud of each of my children’s accompisments. It’s just as each one gets closer to leaving home for college, I don’t want to let them go….Bad mommy!