Enabling - Just Another Way to Say I Love You

As I take a break from writing Cullen's book report to do some laundry, clean the kitchen, put my grand-kids to bed and write this blog, I remember a stress relieving exercise given to me long ago by some well-meaning therapist.  The exercise is to build in your mind your dream home. My dream home was a cottage on a cliff with a view of the ocean.  It was very small, with only one bedroom and a library.  There was a flower garden and a tiny yard.  One day it struck me that what were not there were my children.  I was all alone in the house.  Now my children were very young at the time and I still loved them obsessively.  But I am an introvert at heart and have not had a minute to myself for nearly 25 years.  It is starting to wear on me just a little bit.

I have no hope of ever getting my kids out of my house.  At some point they went from being the wind beneath my wings to the cement shoes on my feet.  My parenting principle was simple enough, figure out what my mother would do and do the opposite.  I was the Anti-Mom.  I completely forgot that my mom raised me, so she must have done something right.  I couldn't wait to get out of the house.  And if the speed at which my room was reclaimed for a younger sister is any indication, the feeling was mutual.

My daughter, on the other hand, has proclaimed her willingness to reside in my basement with her children forever.  My son, who is probably NOT going to get into a college, says all the right things about leaving but I have noticed a considerable lack of follow up on that talk.  So if we measure the success of the parent by the outcome of the child there are a lot worse things than being raised by my mother.  Apparently one of them is being raised by me.