I Wonder If Erma Bombeck Ever Felt This Way?

Today has been one of 'those' days. A day where I seriously considered suicide or homicide as an alternative...it may sound amusing and I guess everyone has bad days like mine, but it did not make getting though it any easier.

My oldest son, Kyllion, has decided he'd rather move to Kentucky to stay with my Mother who is a terrible enabler. She doesn't mean to be, but she can't help it. She needs to be needed. My son, I fear, who has not had such convenient services, will be proud to take advantage of her kindnesses. This not only makes me mad but it makes me ashamed as well.

How could this beautiful little baby grow into such a slug that getting a job or buying his own car seems too daunting a task to do? How could my once Honor Roll child decide that hard work is not worth the efforts? I scratch my head and am left empty handed, no answers. I can only decide it is the path of least resistance that is exceptionally appealing. Why bother to work when it can be gotten for free?

I had a stunning revelation as I listened to my now adult child tell me that I was somehow lesser because I spent a great deal of his life as a homemaker, a stay-at-home Mom who did the traditional role. That I somehow took advantage of life because I depended on my husband to take care of me... it made my blood run cold.

I hardly recognized this bitter boy who was pissed off at me because his Dad had promised him an allowance but I had shot it down. He was angry that we did not furnish his first car for him, complaining that 'Everyone else's parents did'. All I could do was look out into the morning's early light at my flowers and wonder where in the hell did I go wrong? What the hell did I do to make him such an ungrateful, spoiled brat?

He confided that the reason that he did not want to college was because I wanted him to do so. He was so pleased with himself. That smug look shined as he told me that the reason he said he intended to join the military was so that I would leave him alone, wouldn't push him for an answer to 'What are you going to do with your life?' That way, he had an answer, it was all the better that I did not like it.

Then, when the day came for him to follow through on the military, he backed out. Why, you ask? Because he really didn't want to do that either. He had just said that so that I would stop asking. That the military was too long a commitment, four years was a 'long time' and he was unprepared to sign that line either.

"So... Now, what?" I foolishly asked.

"I'm going to Grandma's. I don't know after that. At least SHE has a car for me..." His eyes cut narrow. I shook my head. I could feel my lips draw tight.

"Whatever..." I sighed and continued to stare into nothing.

"You don't have to be so shitty about it."

"I'm not. I just realized that I don't care anymore..."

That was the scary part. I didn't. I didn't care what he did. The sooner he was out of my house, the better I would feel. If the bus could pick him up the next day, which would be alright with me.

Indifference filled me up like a smooth glass of buttermilk. No currents. No splash. Just smooth and easy...

When he rose from his seat on the porch and entered the house, I stayed there. Watching the morning bring life to my yard, thinking about how it must be somehow wrong for me to feel the way I did. Suddenly, he was not my child anymore, but bitter stranger I would be proud to help exit my surroundings as quickly as possible.

My favorite writer on domestic life is Erma Bombeck. In her house, there was chaos and craziness. She did not write about the 'perfect' home life in movies and in popular books, but she wrote about how she had ups and downs but muddled through. Successfully!

I wonder if she ever felt that way. The way I found myself feeling about my oldest son. I wondered if she ever thought about picking up all her child's belongings and tossing them into a pile in the front yard. I wondered if she ever thought about smacking that smug look off a face...

I wonder if she ever felt that she was alone in the parenting corner because she was at home on the forefront and her husband was off, working. I wonder if her children ever tried to embarrass her because she was a stay-at-home Mom whose husband supported her financially.

If she ever looked into the face of someone she grew, someone she loved, and thought... "Wow...If I don't see you for a long, long time, it'd be too soon."

I went back and forth in my head, in my mind, and thought about what kind of mother I was, who I had become. If all my efforts and everything I had given (and given up) had been in vain, or if I had simply given too much and this was the end result. I did not come up with an answer to that, still haven't. Maybe I never will...

Whoever thinks that diapers and midnight feedings or T-ball and dance recitals are the hard part of parenting~ they are in for an eye-opening wake-up call. Teenagers are the most difficult thing in the world. Mine have made me second guess why I ever became a parent in the first place. Was it REALLY worth it? Was it worth MY life? The things that I have given up, sacrificed, so that I could be a parent?

I don't know.

Maybe I won't know for a long, long time.

But, right now, I have my doubts.

Wonder if Erma felt this way...