So, Oh-my-god, I Have Kids.

Also known as: it's all my fault or oh my god, I think it's all my fault

My daily writings have never been about my kids. Anyone following this blog (not that they do) would maybe have a vague sense that I have children along the journey of  my dissolving marriage and transition into age-gapped relationship with a co worker.

I do, in fact, have children. Two of them. Females that are now young women and are nearly fully independent.

The reason they never frequented pages such as these? Probably because, up and until now, I Mom'd like a mo-fo'. I come to this place to search for the answers to questions I have. Answers that alluded me. As a mom, answers didn't allude me. They came to me like a I was a savant: relationship challenged and  mom genius.

For some reason, once they're out in the world as individuals and they're asking me (because we created such a good bond and I was good at advice) life decision things as if their lives depend on getting it right, right now, I panic along with them.

Inside voice: Oh my god, I don't know, do you want to go to school for that? School is a lot of money. Why don't you just work for a while? Oh wait, working and suck hole customer service jobs causes you social anxiety to a point of panic - and you had those traumatic experiences and I brought you up with dad that was unavailable and can't give you love and then I let you lean on me too much - I made your decisions - shit, I fucked you up. Ummmmmmm, I don't know? What do you want to do? Shit, you don't know either? Ummm, maybe we should go see a tea leaf reader? The latter because, you know, you're a witchy, earthy, gypsy mom who's smart AF and digs science but also believes in spiritual woo woo.

And the tea leaf reader tells them exactly what they want to hear, but then it doesn't happen quite like that or it doesn't happen soon enough and a black hole forms in the middle of their soul, into which they begin to sink.

And it's all.your.fault. Way to go, Mom! 😒

I think the only one thing true that I told my youngest (current experiencer of the pre life crisis), and finally told her (after many pep talks looking for the solution that would immediately set her free!) was that, "I think this is your battle. I can't fix this one. All I can do is be here to help, offer words to help you build strength and give you tools along the way. I will always be here, coaching, supporting, but the actual fight is inside you - so I can't fight this one for you."

And it fucking sucks. That is the truth that revealed itself to me. Outside of being there for her (as I can, because, you might recall - I ABANDONED MY 18 YEAR OLD DAUGHTER TO LIVE WITH HER DAD SO I COULD MOVE AN HOUR-AND-A- HALF AWAY FOR WORK, AND YES! LOVE. ugh. it really is all.my.fault.

Anyways, outside of being there for her (physically, 2 days a week) there is nothing else I can do. This is out of my control.

Oh, there it is. Did someone just call Bingo?

My eyes are starting to see (except for the massive influx of guilt that tells me to quit my job and move back, because, really, that's the least I could do), this is part of her journey, not mine. It is my job to 1) let go 2) listen 3) support her decisions without advice.