You Never Stop Being A Parent

I remember when the kids were little - I used to think " WOW I can't WAIT till they grow UP". I remember thinking life would be so much better if I didn't have little children to worry about. Not that I don't LOVE little children. I DO. I just was worn out. Like all moms of little children. Chasing after a crawling/toddling/running child, wiping noses and butts and washing what seemed like endless loads of laundry, kissing boo-boos and foreheads, sometimes not getting a shower until it was so late in the day it seemed like there was no point. One of my favorite memories ( at least one of my favorite memories to tell people about...especially new moms) is when I had my oldest son. My husband ( first husband...that's a story I'll tell some day) had custody of his two children from his first marriage...they were pretty young ( like 5 and 2) and we had a brand new baby. I was outside hanging clothes on the line...and sobbing. My baby was inside screaming his head off in his crib...the 5 year old was spraying the two year old with the hose - and drenching me and the clothes in the process - and I was sobbing. And sobbing. ...and sobbing.

My mother-in-law stopped by and found me sobbing at the clothes line. Here's the exchange:

MIL: "What's the matter honey?"

ME:  ~~sniffle~~" well, the baby hates me. The kids won't stop spraying my clothes with water. ~sniffle~ and the chicken didn't thawwwwwww." ~~sob~~   ~sniffle~~ ~~sob~~~

LOL Pathetic I know. But my wonderful mother in law turned right around...packed up all three kids and took them to her house. All of a sudden I was in a silent house. It was so silent my ears were ringing. I decided to take advantage of the silence and take a bath. A nice, hot...bubble bath. I ran the tub. I got a nice fluffy robe. I turned on some music and sunk down into the soft sweet bath.

Next thing I know - my husband is tapping me on the forehead wondering where the kids are. 4 hours later. I was freezing and pruny. Nice.

But I digress....

As I started to say - I remember looking forward to the kids growing up. Being able to take care of themselves. Not needing their Mommy. My kids are 25, 23, 23 and 20. It ought to be about that time. Don't you think? Well - then - why did my phone ring no less than 15 times this weekend with calls from my kids needing help, advice, or a shoulder? ( or money. let's don't forget the money) Oh well - I guess you never stop being a parent. No matter how old your kids get.