March 23, 2010
Tuesday, 5:32 P.M.
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I'm a bad mother. Nope, don't try to make me feel better. I am a bad mother. My baby got married on Sunday and after a perfect, beautiful, sweet wedding ceremony and a rollicking, fun, happy reception, I came home and cried. I am honestly happy for the kids and I wish them all the most wonderful things life has to offer them. That's what makes this reaction so hard to understand. It's purely selfish, very unmaternal. I became second place in another son's life on Sunday. I am no longer "the contact in case of emergency". I am relegated to hearing second hand any good news, bad news, and everything in between, and I will probably hear it from my son's wife rather than from him. That's if they ever even call me at all! Daughters are different. Any bonding that was broken in adolescence returns in marriage. They want to be around their moms, they want to share all that girly stuff. I am the first one to tell you I am not a girly girl. I was never a giggler, or wasted my time concerned about designer clothes, fingernails, or hairdos. I am a tomboy, enjoying a hike through the woods far more than a day at a spa. Shake shingling my house is a far better use of my time than sitting in a salon getting a mani/pedi. So God, in his infinite wisdom, knew what he was doing when he blessed me with my boys. At first, I thought that was pretty cool. I loved being the mom of sons. It seemed so much easier than putting up with all the little and big girl moods and expectations. Well, I still love being the mom of sons, but with that comes letting them go when they take themselves a bride. There is an old saying that goes something like this, "My son is my son till he takes him a wife, but my daughter is my daughter for the rest of her life." I miss my sons. I miss my importance in their lives. Selfish, right?
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