Ground Control to Major Mom

On the verge of a new semester, my mind isn't committed entirely to my students.  I've also reserved a synapse or two for my own children, just because that's the kind of mom I am.  And I'm pleasantly surprised with what the kids are doing with those few synapses they've been allotted.

Eric, whose feet are firmly set in the future, spoke of apartment living come next year.  He's been saving like a banshee for that possibility, living on a shoestring budget while building up a small apartment-fund fortune in his savings, his ransom for freedom.  That he may end up rooming with his oldest friend, Dylan, a girl he met in our alley 15 years ago, is music to my ears.  I love Dylan like a daughter, maybe even more so, considering I didn't have to birth or raise or finance her.

I'm no fool.  I know that, if those apartment-living plans come to fruition,  it'll mean an end to Eric's occasional man-room takeovers, events we secretly love.  It'll also mark the next step towards him taking full control of his life. As a mom who is still nuts about her kid, those things can be hard to swallow, but I would rather choke down his decisions with a glass of cold milk than disrupt the flow of Eric's future just for the sake of my emotional well being.

Allison, too, is toying with my emotional well-being these days.  But in a good way, as well.  Just yesterday, she spoke of how excited she was about the future, how she felt she'd taken good steps to ensure its details, from applying to attend LPS's technology-focused school next year to seeking out film-production workshops available next summer.  It's obvious she sees a clear path to a future that excites her. 

And, while I may think I know the truth about their futures (that both will face hardship, disappointment, bed bugs, countless dinners of Ramen noodles and possible unemployment), I also know that those predictions could be made about anyone's future.  Anyone's.  So, what's the point of me throwing up my hands and disrupting the happy flow of my children's future-oriented minds?  Really, there would be no point.  Except to pretend that I am in charge.  Which, clearly, I am not.