Dear Moose,
We are in a transition period. I know that you are growing
up. Soon you will be eleven and in middle school. And because I am dramatic, I
recognize that this means you are practically in college. Knowing that time is
of the essence, I am already working on letting go, even if you can’t tell. I
refuse to become a helicopter parent. I see it too much and it is not someone I
want to become. But….it turns out, this is quite hard.
You see, I have been watching your every movement like a stalker
since I found out I was pregnant. We were instructed to count your kicks every
hour in utero. But micromanaging did not stop once you were born. I received
weekly updates from overly helpful websites telling me exactly what
developmental delays I should be on the lookout for. Your every move has been
scrutinized and you didn’t even know it! Even in daycare, I would receive a
daily sheet telling me what you ate, how much you ate, when you ate, when you
slept, how many wet diapers you had and when you pooped. Little did you know
that we have been tracking everything you do since you were born!
Of course starting kindergarten was quite the change because
it turns out, kindergarten teachers don’t watch how much you eat or how many
times a day you go to the bathroom. How am I supposed to know if you are safe
and healthy if I don’t know these intimate details about you?! I’m just
supposed to expect you to tell me? But when I asked you what was for lunch, you
couldn’t remember. What? Argh! Did you eat? Are you wasting away? Naturally
kindergarten was the first step as it forced me to let go a bit and rely on you
to know how to take care of yourself when it came to your basic needs. I’d like
to think you are fully capable of taking care of the base needs now, yet
sometimes I find I still have to tell you that you need to wear shoes. But I
digress…
Now you are getting to the age where you can be dropped off
at places without me. Just this weekend I let you watch your friends play
basketball and I wasn’t there. I know that very responsible parents that I
trust were around. But while I may have seemed cool and collected on the
surface, I was ready to text you every 5 minutes to make sure no one had
drugged you in the bathroom and taken you across state lines. Obviously I made
you take your phone. I can track you with it, which you may not know. Fun fact,
did you know I literally hyperventilated the first time I let you use a public
restroom on your own? I still actually watch the bathroom door waiting for you
to reemerge. Sorry!
These are baby steps for me. Soon you will be driving. Wait,
no you won’t. I can’t actually go there mentally so I’m going to deny that you
will have the capability of being able to transport yourself to different
location and come home on your own accord. Let’s skip over driving. Soon you
will be going to college. I think you should go wherever you want, even if it
is far far away. But you need to understand that weird shit happens in college.
Although all of my weird stuff was from guys, I’m sure girls are just as able
to stalk you, leave strange notes on your door and steal your underwear as
well. And I won’t be there to protect you. I won’t know every detail of your
day or even if you went home at night. Oh my gosh, don’t do drugs or smoke and
always use a condom! If those are the only things you remember from your
upbringing, I am happy. I’m going to breathe through this panic attack I’m
having at the thought of college.
I know you will need to branch out. You will need to make
your own decisions. I will not raise a son who cannot think on his own. Your
wife would hate me. And I would hate me too. You have to be independent. And I
am learning that this is harder on me than it will be on you. So I’m going to
keep trying to let things go, because soon I’ll have no choice. You’ll be a man
and your decisions will bear consequences only you can accept, no matter how
much I want to take care of you. I’ll transition from someone who takes care of
you to someone who supports you. There is a difference. And I think that’s what
a good mom does – she finds that balance.
So here’s to the next stage in life. I trust that you are a
smart kid and you’ll make the right decisions. And when you don’t, I’ll be
there to help you out. And for goodness sake, remember to take your phone. I’m
not cutting the cord entirely.
Love,
Mom
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