Mothering an Adult

... I thought it got easier

When Spawn was a newborn and breastfeeding constantly and I was exhausted, I remember thinking: It will get easier.

When Spawn started walking and I had to move everything so that she could be safe, I remember thinking: It will get easier.

When Spawn went to school… I remember thinking: It will get easier.

When Spawn became a teen… I did not think it would get easier.

When Spawn went to college… I remember thinking: It will get easier.

When Spawn graduated… I remember thinking: It will get easier.

Here’s the lesson I learned: Mothering is hard. Period. Full stop.

Don’t get me wrong, it’s not all hard.

As y’all know, Spawn brings me immense joy.

But it’s a learning curve.

I’ve had to say to Spawn: I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing.

We’ve had to navigate and negotiate.

When she calls in distress I’ve learned that the first thing I say to her should be: Do you want to be hugged, helped or heard?

Most of the time, my job is to listen.

Which is hard for me because I always want to help.

But the fact is… for the most part, my days of problem-solving and problem-fixing are over.

Spawn is perfectly capable of solving her own problems.

My instincts are changing.

We’re still figuring it all out: How does she want to be mothered? How to mother.

Making it up as we go along.

Surrounded by love.

One of my favorite pics of us (photo by Claire-Detrick-Jules)