Tuesday, December 08, 2009

red light at morning

red light at morning
Originally uploaded by mygothlaundry
My youngest child turned 18 today - well, if we want to get all specific, he'll turn 18 around 9:00 tonight - and I feel a little bereft and stunned. That's it, really: the kids are grown. I always thought I'd join the Peace Corps when that happened but somehow it no longer sounds all that appealing - if I want to dig a well or something, I can do it in my backyard, which boasts that authentic third world ambiance. Besides, the dogs at least need me. And the grown kids do too, I think - without me, who would buy them Thai food on their birthdays? Or spend hours making insanely complex cheesecake layered marbleized brownies that use 16 eggs and a pound and a half of butter?

Now my son is too old to acknowledge. I never bring up my daughter's age, because I am vain and do not want anyone to realize that I have a daughter that old. Occasionally I try to pass her off as my sister, but this annoys her (for good reason, okay) and she usually glares and makes some kind of cutting comment, so I don't do it much. I used to not worry so much about my son: I was altogether a more socially acceptable age when he was born and it seemed normal to have a kid his age. Now, though, I have to admit that if it seemed normal then it means that I am in fact old enough to have an 18 year old kid. Yikes. I am old and he is going to get a motorcycle and register for the draft. On the bright side, however, I suppose I get to stop feeling guilty for everything my children do - clearly, it's their own fault now when they get into trouble. I suspect, however, that I will still feel vaguely that it is all probably because of something I did wrong. Well, that's parenting in a nutshell, right there.

In other, less brooding on mortality news, I fixed the oven. I went to Cashwells and bought an oven element and put it in all by myself and it works just fine - see brownies comment, above. Truly, I am mighty. Old and mighty.

1 comment:

Edgy Mama said...

I, on the other hand, go into my son's 1st & 2nd grade classroom, and all the moms seem to be preggers 20-somethings or have babes on their hips. I feel like I have to explain, "He's my youngest, and I waited to have kids." It makes me feel really old.

Happy Birthday, M!