As you raise them, you fret about all aspects of their life. Friends, school, extra curricular activities, their health and anything else we can put into our head.
Before you know it, they wander away and put their feet up in a dorm room, eating whatever they want, watching movies until all hours of the night and spending their older teen years away from you. Grades are a concern, but they aren't the main ones. You worry if they got in the car with the wrong person or drank too much and that’s why they haven’t called you in a week.
Then one day you look around and realize … you did it.
They made it… with or without your help, they made it.
They are an adult. They can vote, drink, have sex and go to jail just like the rest of us. Will they? That is when you start counting your blessings.
I’ve lamented over how much my kid drinks, sleeps, and doesn’t do homework or talks on the phone. I’ve railed on them for getting a C- on a test or was rude to their sibling.
But I have rarely thanked them for being MY kid.
So… here it is.
Thank you for not disappearing for months at a time and leaving me to wonder if you are still alive or if you need your Mommy.
Thank you for not doing drugs to the point where you are unrecognizable to me or anyone who knew you.
Thank you for giving me someone to brag about even when you don’t do what *I* want.
Thank you for not doing something stupid and making me go into a cold morgue and have to identify your body.
Thank you… for being my kid. Thank you for letting me know that despite my mistakes (and there were plenty) that you turned out to be a damned good kid.
Now… go do your homework, Finals are this week.