ARE MOTHER'S SANE?

 

Are mother's truly sane or do you think they're all a bit brain damaged?  I'm not quite sure when I lost my grasp on common sense but I'm positive it had something to do with the bearing of children.  In the past I was under the mistaken opinion that once children grow into adulthood, go out and make their own homes, I might actually begin to regain a semblance of normality again.  WRONG!

 

I am now 60 years old, retired, living 1300 miles away from my two children.  Have my brain cells recovered?  Nope, don't think so.  It appears that I will never ever stop 'mothering' my off-spring .. just as my own mother kept 'mothering' me, much to my discomfort, right up until her passing at age 80.  Knowing how much it irritated me to hear my mother say to my 60-year-old-being, "You're are NOT going to wear THAT, are you?"  or  "Did you lose your comb?  What is the matter with your hair today?", I find I do exactly the same thing to my own adult children.  The saving grace is that with such a distance between us, I can't see them roll their eyes at my well-intended suggestions.

 

But I'm getting off track.  I intended to explain the loss of the ability to THINK.  I hoped to explain one of the many afflictions of mothers .. The brain fart, the senior moment, or as I'm blonde (Lady Clairol says so), maybe it's a blonde moment. 

 

Recently my 38 year old son informed me that he was flying from Michigan to Florida to visit his dear mother for a few days.  "Wonderful", I thought, immediately making a grocery list of all the things he liked to eat, a second list of activities we could do while he was here, and a third list that included mother things like:  get him a haircut (even though it's been months since I've seen him, I'm sure he's looking shaggy), buy him some new clothes (his old coat probably isn't warm enough for the terrible Michigan winter and of course he probably needs boots).  So far, does this sound like any mothers that you know?

 

I study my grocery list, adding ingredients for cookies, homemade fudge, oh, and a birthday cake.  He'll be here over his birthday and how could I possibly let him add a year to his age without a birthday cake?  Naturally I don't want to go to the grocery store TOO soon and have these sweet treats waiting for him any longer than a few hours because I could easily gobble them all up within a day.  Then I would have to start all over.  That's way too much work ..... Not to mention the extra pounds I certainly don't need.

 

So the day before my son's arrival, I troop to the grocery store, with list in hand, as if I'm going on a 'quest'.  Patiently and deliberately I locate and check off each and every items on my list.  The filled-to-the-brim bags are loaded into my trunk and back home I head to my little condo on the SECOND FLOOR.   

 

Many minutes later, sweat dripping in my eyes, arms aching, and legs trembling, I ask myself "WHY IN THE WORLD WOULD A SANE PERSON MAKE FIVE TRIPS UP AND DOWN THE STAIRS, IN 95 DEGREE WEATHER, LUGGING HEAVY GROCERY BAGS THAT SET ME BACK $158.00 AND CHANGE, WHEN TOMORROW THERE WILL BE TWO YOUNG MALE ARMS TO LIFT THOSE BAGS AND TWO YOUNG MALE LEGS TO TROOP UP AND DOWN THOSE STAIRS.  And what's even worse ..... Everything I bought still has to be cooked!!!!  YIKES! 

 

(Further proof of my brain damage not needed.)