My adult child


That boy is leaving me again. How can he do that? He’s just a little boy. How will he survive without me? Who will make him mini ravioli and mayonnaise, salt and pepper sandwiches? And read him Good Night Moon at night?

He HATES when I do this. Post pictures of him as a child. But I can’t help it. So precious. At least I didn’t put the biscuit cutter photo up.

Out of control. Can’t help myself. He actually wedged a biscuit cutter up his leg. And he looked pretty happy about it.

But the reality is that he’s an adult now. An adult about to go back to his new home state of California and continue studying the fine and delicate art of changing the world, a serious subject at the Middlebury Institute of International Studies at Monterey.

But first, a culinary interlude. Breakfast at the Waffle House.

Cheesesteak sandwich. Hashbrowns with cheese and jalapenos.

I meant to write about Noah being home all month. It’s been a gift. He spent five months in Moscow and another semester before that in Monterey. He’s going to get dual masters degrees in subjects I can’t even understand and is fluent in Russian. He will change the world. And it’s in a pretty precarious place right now so he’d better hurry up and graduate.

Although I don’t think he recognizes 5117 as “home” anymore, it’s still the ancestral place that involves bubble baths, Candy Land games and squirrels in the walls (never buy a wooden house). His room will always be his room. There will always be the blinds pull string cut off half way up because he was bored one day. And the black spot on the shower curtain because why wouldn’t you dye your hair at 3 in the morning.

I know. He is cringing. Bad Mommy.

This, in truth, is just for me. I have tried to be good at letting go. I never call him (well almost never). I wait for him to call me. I don’t want to be the helicopter mom because that’s just not healthy. But this letting go shit is hard on me.

So here’s the take away. King Daddy (who is endlessly patient as I go through these spells) and I raised a proper man. A man with values, compassion and an infinite curiosity about the world at large. He will be a player on the international stage. He will do work with consequences. He will far exceed anything that his parents ever dreamed of doing.

And that is what you want, isn’t it?

Noah, expect embarrassing photos of you to surface as you enter the world arena. They won’t be from Wikileaks. They’ll be from Mommyleaks.



One Comment

  1. Crystal
    January 26, 2017 at 11:32 am

    If he gives you too much grief about the photos, just remind him that when he is a father, he’ll understand and can do the same (or not) to his own “dammitboy” or girl! 🙂

    And your readers love them!

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