Ready, Set, Let Go

A mom is a strange machine. There's these weird features where we have eyes in the back of our head, bionic ears and "elastic-woman" arms to catch falling food, sippy cups and, most importantly, children.

We can't always be there to catch them when they fall, but we sure as heck try.

Today my baby needed to go to UW-Platteville to take an exam to possibly test out of freshman English. Last week I told him I could take the day off to drive him down there. He said, "Well Dad said I could just drive myself."

"Drive yourself?!" I asked incredulously. "You realize it's a 3-hour drive each way? Have you ever driven that long? Do you know how to get there?"

Never mind the invention of GPS and, long before that, road maps. I think I convinced him he needed me to take him. Later I realized I really just wanted him to need me. And I realized I really just didn't want him to venture off on his own like that.

I really didn't want to let him go.

That was a pretty big "a-ha" moment for this mom. And I am proud to say I scaled that first major letting go hurdle and I let him go. All the way down there today. By himself. Uff da.

Naturally, I insisted he text when he got there safely and when he was done with his test and when he was hitting the road to come home. I mean I can let go physically but not emotionally. I'm not Super Mom here.

Was relieved he found it OK, felt he did well on the test and managed to find his way home even though he wasn't getting a signal for his phone GPS. And he kept us posted as requested. Whew.

Now he's home and having a fire in the backyard with a handful of friends who probably have moms at home hoping their babies are safe. Hoping that now that they're adults, they are making smart decisions. Don't worry. We moms have to stick together. My turn to keep them safe. And other than the kid throwing firecrackers in the fire, they'll be just fine.

And you wonder why we have such a hard time letting go.