I had the pleasure of being a mother to two awesome boys. When I was growing up, I always thought I wanted a girl. I knew with my husband being from a family of all boys, the odds were pretty good for another boy. I decided against a third child due to caring for my parents while having toddlers. I was overwhelmed. Two was plenty and a joy but also hard work, as they keep you on your toes. I was responsible for these two and I hoped and prayed I would be a good mother.
I enjoyed each age and stages in their lives and so proud of them as they grew up, and still. Both are grown and successful in life with their professions. My oldest is married, celebrating their second anniversary in several weeks.
The other night, I again had to deal with the fact of being asked to watch their dog while they go do something fun with her parents this coming weekend. This was not the first time. While I do not mind, I would enjoy time with them, too. I had to laugh as I remembered my boss warning me 
before their marriage that I will lose him as a son and he was correct. Still, it hurts.
I know I am not the only one that gets sad in this scenario. Am I? As I tried to talk myself out of the pity party I was having, I thought I would just write about it. I was warned not just by my boss but my sister also having boys.
In having boys, I have to wonder and sometimes fret over my age, if I will need care or a nursing home. What will happen? I certainly hope my daughter-in-law loves me as much as I love her. I am in the role of watching others in this position and if the boys step up to the plate in caring for their aging parents.
So, if you have boys, you’ve been warned. lol
I have sat on the loveseat in my counselor’s office week after week, year after year trying to understand life as an older, adult woman and realizing my childhood held a lot of the keys to the confusion felt.
As we discussed my own childhood issues so many times, I felt the burden and so often while reading about emotional neglect and abandonment, the burden that I let my own children down. I have failed them. How do I make that right now from their childhood? They are both grown adults. They seem well adjusted, confident but are they really? Will they ever express to me where I failed? Could I handle it, if so? I want to ask them but I am fearful to know, too. Will they even know until they also might be sitting on a counselor’s loveseat trying to understand life as I am and realize the damage done. The cycle of life as we all fail in one area or another or more.
If only…. how many times we all say that. If only I could do some things over, I would still fail my children. So when the burden or guilt overrides my parenting, I know that I must remember I did the best that I could with what I knew. Today, and always, they know I love them. My time left on this earth and our time together, I do know that they will have a more happy, healthier mother before them.
Today, I had read about a pastor that committed suicide and the focus was on the anti-depressant drugs. How sad. Then my mind went to my son who was prescribed anti-depressant medication this past month. He is doing great so I have faith that this was a good turnaround for him but then reading this post, fear immediately went into action.
Oh how I miss the Tonka truck days and dirt tracked in the house, a house full of their friends and feeling like a short-order cook. I have no control. I have no say.
Just Pondering... 