I really don't want to be a nag. I want to be done with hovering. But what is any self-respecting mom supposed to do? They're here. They're doing stuff under my nose and expecting me to ignore it. But they're giving me no choice - leaving the house without eating, going out in a snowstorm without a hat and gloves, wearing shorts when it's below zero. I'm telling you, it's making me crazy.
I do my best to bite my tongue. Honest. Let them learn I tell myself. Let them freeze their asses off and maybe they won't do it again. Let them go through an eight hour shift without food. If they weren't here, I wouldn't have a clue. I'd go on my merry way under the umbrella of blissful ignorance, safe in the assumption that I'd taught them what they needed to make it out there in the cold, cruel world. But everyday, I'm reminded that I have not. And I'm not crazy about that reminder.
I wish I could find a way to stop worrying. I know I can't fix anything anymore - they're way beyond the band-aid stage where everything could be fixed with a Spider Man or Cinderella band-aid (although I think I still have a few in a drawer upstairs, just in case). I know they're here because they're trying to figure out what to do next and how to do it. I know I have to sit back, shut up and let them come to me.
Or not.
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