Parent of an Adult

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Well, vacation is over. _He_ goes back to work today. The past 2 1/2 weeks have been grand, having _him_ around so much. Even though a lot of it was spent with _him_/us doing things that needed to be done, that just never seem to make it to the top of the list. There were some very enjoyable, relaxing times in there, too. Like the day all seven of us enjoyed the pool together, and the trip to Holiday World with friends. The kids, the little girls especially, are really bummed about _him_ having to go back to work today. Me, too But we shall carry on.

This past four-day weekend, specifically the third and fourth days – Monday and Tuesday- were quite crazy, fun, buzy, for us. It was the grand finale to the summer vacation for the whole family, that really just kicked off summer. Monday was our boy’s birthday. Our son is now legally an adult. It is both sad and joyful at the same time. Sad that he is sort of through with the main portion of our parenting him, and that he is closer to leaving us someday, and joyful that we raised a wonderful, responsible, young man. It is also of note that we were able to raise him without major injury, illness, or any serious brain damage. We seldom dropped him, never maimed him, and hardly left irrepairable damage upon his psyche. We have learned so much parenting him, our first child. We tease him that he is our “_Great Experimental Child._” Yet, not a broken bone, nor a stitch, nor a therapist has he had need for, so far. That is an accomplishment, no?

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In the weeks leading up to his monumentous birthday I would pretend to sob and cry out about my baby growing up, etc. And then, surprising even myself, I really did cry (though quietly) several times (before noon!), on his actual birthday. My sweet, dark-haired, chocolate-eyed, dimple-smiled, -little boy- young man gave me lots of reassuring hugs, and patted me on the back several times. And the only thing that gets me through the day now? The mere fact that he isn’t ready to leave us just yet. He has plans to attend a local “college”:http://www.usi.edu/ and live at home for a year or two. Thank goodness.

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Some people think my sentimental spirit has to do with depression about getting older but that’s not really it. Why would they think that? I gave birth to the boy when I was a mere 10 going on 11 years old!

p{font-size:.8em}. _P.S. Fiber updates later._