Like a great number of women my age, I have adult children. Getting to this point has been a combination of joy, struggle, frustration, happiness and pride. There have been millstones and milestones as they have reached new levels of responsibility and achievement.
When my youngest son, Nathaniel, was learning to ride a 2-wheeler we lived on a court. Once the wobble was worked out and he was off on his own, we set physical boundaries. He couldn't leave the court. That was plenty of room to roam. We're not talking about a cul-de-sac, it was a 14-home court with its share of obstacles and hazards and enough adventure...for a 5 year old. As he grew so did the boundaries. We were using the goldfish method of containment knowing he would grow to his surroundings.
Later, when Nathaniel was a new driver, we laid out his auto-territory on a map. Although at first I joked that he could not take his 1995 Caprice Classic out of the court. This worked well while our level of trust and his driving experience increased.
Nathaniel now has a family of his own. They, along with the rest of the family, joined us for Thanksgiving. Nathaniel is now an adult, a father, a mate, and a...VEGAN. Say what? Yep, a card-carrying, eat nothing with a face vegan. Hmmm, this may require a bit of a culinary balancing act. As it turns out most everything loving placed on your Thanksgiving table comes from an animal of some sort. But, my (nearly) daughter-in-law and I worked out a terrific menu to satisfy both the carnivores and the herbivores, working side by side in the kitchen. I was pleased, not only with the meal, but my ability to stretch out beyond my comfort level.
You raise your kids and then at some point they go off and have lifestyles and opinions all their own. And although we are ready for them to fly, we parents seem to be left at the gates equally proud and wondering "Who said you could leave the court?"