From Chicken Nuggets to Graduations and a Helicopter Mom Learning to Land.

Some days hit harder than others.

With my husband gone, the house feels different. Quieter in some ways, okay, who am I kidding, I will be 100% honest, you can hear a pin drop, just how I like it but also louder in my thoughts. Life has been moving forward whether I am ready or not, and lately it feels like everything is changing all at once. I swear time saw me doing okay for five minutes and decided to speed up.

My oldest has graduated and is starting grad school at just 21 years old. I am incredibly proud, but I would be lying if I said my heart does not ache a little. Watching your child step fully into adulthood is beautiful and painful at the same time. You spend years making sure they can tie their shoes and find their backpack, and suddenly they are planning their future., and man is she planning! No matter how much time goes on, it does not get easier. You just learn how to function while feeling all the feelings at once, it could also be the hormones, I am 45, ha!

Sometimes I stop and ask myself, how am I this mom? I never imagined standing in this part of  my life. I dreamed of it, yes, but I thought it was way farther down the road. How is this real life? Wasn’t I just making chicken nuggets and fries and putting them into saved kids’ meal containers from McDonald’s?

Yes, I was that, mom. Yes, my kids ate McDonald’s. Not all the time, but on some days, I did what needed to be done. Survival parenting is still parenting, and honestly, those kids turned out just fine.

My middle child is graduating in May, and that somehow makes everything feel even more real. Another milestone. Another reminder that my calendar is now full of graduations instead of playdates.

And then there is my youngest.

I just signed him up for driver’s education. Sixteen years old. I am not okay. He is high functioning autistic, incredibly capable, and also the reason my anxiety has anxiety, but let me add also the reason I can’t help but smile at least one hundred times a day, not kidding.  He may not drive until he is eighteen. He may never drive. And honestly, that might be best for everyone involved.

He also reminds me daily that I need to stop being a helicopter mom. Daily. I often wonder where he learned that phrase. Thanks, Babe.

Lately, my phone has chosen violence. Every day it sends me photo memories of when all three kids were little. Tiny faces, missing teeth, sticky hands. I look at those photos and ask out loud, why now? Why today? Who approved this emotional ambush?

With his dad gone, I have watched my youngest step up in ways that make me incredibly proud. He has been working with my dad, his uncle, and his cousin, chopping wood, bundling it, and selling it. Hard work, real work. He is outside, learning skills, staying busy, and most importantly spending time with his grandpa, uncle, and cousin. He comes home tired, dirty, proud, and happy. And honestly, seeing him grow in confidence while making memories with family reminds me that progress does not always look the way we expect it to, this is a good reminder for me, I tend to worry so much about him.

I am a wreck these days. Sad and happy at the same time. Laughing one minute, tearing up the next. Holding on while learning how to let go.

Parenthood is not about having it all figured out. It is about loving fiercely, worrying constantly, laughing when you can, and trusting that the kids you raised are becoming exactly who they are meant to be.

And right now, even on the hard days, I am choosing to believe that we are all going to be okay.