Time Magazine had an article about India’s langur monkeys. Apparently they will kill their young and sometimes eat them as a weird form of group preservation. I imagine the mama monkeys swinging from tree to tree, a buggy-eyed baby clinging to her chest, and at some point she has to get tired of the baggage, you know? When it’s time to let go of mama maybe she gives them a choice ~ swing on your own or let’s eat. I’m no zoologist, but I have raised four children, which I think means I'm qualified to say a thing or two.
Here’s the problem: I thought that one day my children would grow up and leave me. I thought they would go out into the world, eager to strike out on their own, grow a set of wings (or something) and flit off to find their fortunes. I figured they’d want to get away from my rules and my roof. Surely they crave independence and autonomy. Imagine their relief of finally being free of my idiosyncrasies like the toilet-paper-over-the-top rule, or the no cussing rule, or the one about flushing dead pet fish instead of wrapping them in a paper towel and stashing them under the bed. Surely they’re weary of my mood swings, my social ineptitude, my propensity for road rage. They’ll be glad to get out from under my influence in much the same way that I wanted away from my parents. Isn’t that the idea? We get tired of our parents because we’re not designed to live with them our whole lives. Our parents get tired of baggage, and we get bored with never getting to drive. I’m sure Darwin has a theory about this.
I did my best to nurture, teach and provide for them when I was supposed to. I busted their butts when they deserved it and when they did something right I was their biggest fan. And God knows I fought for them. I’ve gone toe-to-toe with unreasonable teachers, lost my cool with ridiculous police officers, and physically charged bullies, adult and juvenile, who dared threaten my child with bodily harm. I’m neither big nor strong but I can make people think I’m crazy and sometimes that’s just as effective.
To my chagrin, most of my children, who are of “legal” age, show no signs of separating from me. Sure, geography can and does put distance between us but that’s not what I’m talking about. What am I really trying to say? They won’t leave me alone. I can’t get a minute to myself. I would pay money for some peace and quiet, but they’re fresh out.
One calls at odd hours, 2am, 6am, 11pm, just to say hello. The call will come at a moment of extreme lightheartedness (and perhaps intoxication) and on some level seems genuine. That’s just to say that I think the caller really does love me as they say they do, which sort of makes me seem like a jerk if I get angry for being awakened.
Another one takes my money. I think this one can smell it in my purse like a shark can pick up one drop of blood in the deep blue sea. He weasels it away. Latches on and can’t let go. Worms it out of me by promising to run errands with the gas he’ll purchase, wraps the request in a promise to make it for my benefit. He also can’t make himself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich to save his life, and I’m pretty sure one of these days his wife will show up on my doorstep and punch me in the head for the ways I’ve crippled him in this regard.
I used to say that my job as a mother was to work myself out of a job, and now they are reaching ages where I had long ago released my mother but they’re still hanging on. Like those monkeys. They won’t leave. They say it’s because they love me, and maybe I am kind of cool for a mom and we have a great relationship and they hang around because they are comfortable around, but I say enough! I say I have things to do. I have things I’ve wanted to do since about 1987 that I haven’t been able to do because they were put on the back-burner since there were more important things to do. Read here: change diapers, breastfeed, wipe noses, potty-train, cook, clean, oh hell, the list goes on ad nauseum. My point is, I thought all kids couldn’t wait to get away from their parents and on their own to make their own decisions and do their own thing and this illusion has been shattered. I must have made it too easy on them and now they won’t go away. They like me. Where did I go wrong?
In the interest of self-preservation and the survival of the group, I'll do what I have to. One of these days they'll probably let go of me on their own, and I won't even give them a shove. Maybe their little arms will simply give out. Don't get me wrong, I'll chew their ass once in awhile, but when it comes to parenting, I'm no monkey cannibal.


Yep. Mom is always the one you turn to no matter what.
They *love* you so much bc yuo're a great mom!
Posted by: verna | February 18, 2009 at 03:46 PM
where did you go wrong? your nuts! lol. they love you. you have been able to really understand the balancing act of being a friend and a mom when needed. sometime a tough choice to make, so maybe that is why you may chew their ass rather than eat them up. lol.
Posted by: kimbyrlee | March 28, 2009 at 11:18 AM
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Posted by: Unitedroll | December 05, 2009 at 12:38 PM