Moms Talk: What Do You Say, When They Say They Don't Need You?

Moms Talk is a new feature on Caledonia Patch that is part of a new initiative on our Patch sites to reach out to moms and families.

Caledonia Patch invites you and your circle of friends to help build a community of support for mothers and their families right here in Caledonia.

Each week in Moms Talk, our Moms Council of experts and smart moms take your questions, give advice and share solutions.

Moms, dads, grandparents and the diverse families who make up our community will have a new resource for questions about local neighborhood schools, the best pediatricians, 24-hour pharmacies and the thousands of other issues that arise while raising children.

So grab a cup of coffee and settle in as we start the conversation. I'll even start.

My daughter turned 17-years-old last month and we’ve been talking about colleges and careers.

One day it’s a career in chemistry, the next it’s cosmetology, and on some days it’s cosmetic chemistry.

And up until this weekend, I really hadn’t thought about how close to being ‘grown up’ she really is. Quite frankly, I’ve been too busy focusing on trying to keep her out of trouble, making sure she’s home on time, knowing who she’s with, and making sure she gets her homework done.

So when we were sitting in Wilson’s Coffee on Saturday talking about colleges and careers, she told me she didn’t need me to make her decisions for her. She didn't say it with any malice or sarcasm. It was just a... you know, common knowledge, that this would be the protocol in moving forward.

And it completely caught me off guard.

What do you mean you don’t need me? I thought. I still make you breakfast every morning, cart you and your friends to movies and school dances, get you to concerts on time, and wash your clothes. Sure, you still need me.

Now, I should be overjoyed at the sheer thought of not being needed. I would no longer have to scream from the bottom of the stairs pleading for the primping to cease or have to argue about nose piercings and hair color (a battle that I clearly lost). And, I’d be singing from the rooftops at the mere thought of not having my life operate between the hours of 7:15 a.m. and 2:38 p.m.

But I’m not overjoyed, and a wave of emotions goes through my mind. I knew this day would eventually come, but surely not now, and not this soon.

After all, this is the kid whose first sentence was “Me do it,” argued that brownies are a breakfast food, danced around my house in bolero jackets, told her preschool teacher that her mommy boogies and her daddy rock-n-rolls, and lectured me, when she was three, about how to handle my frustration. “Remember mom, Blue says to ‘Stop, breath and think!’”

Yes, I knew my kid would be fiercely independent and that my job was to give her roots and wings, or something like that. But I thought I had more time.

So this incredible sadness just washed over me, and tears just streamed down my face.

She looked at me and said, “Why are you crying?”

At that moment, I just didn’t have the words to explain how love works between a mother and a child…that it comes with the greatest joy and the greatest sadness. And that’s when I realized even my sadness gets overshadowed by the joy of watching her become this incredible person. Sure she’s made mistakes and had her share of challenges, but I am amazed at her courage and strength.

That’s when my daughter said, “Well, of course if I needed your help, I would definitely ask for it.”

There... it's settled then. And I sigh, and think, maybe I still have a little more time.