Getting Older (by the second!)

11:50 p.m.  Half cup of lukewarm coffee beside me. I can hear the breathing of everyone else in the house.... because they are sleeping.... and I am not sleeping.

I am currently waiting up for my oldest to get home.

See, she thought she needed to go to the "Halloween Festival" at her college. And mom gets to sit here, tapping my fingers on the keyboard, waiting for the minutes to tick by, until I hear the sound of the car coming up the driveway. She's 19. But there's just so much she doesn't know. So much that I don't think she's ready for.

I hate telling her no. In fact, other than the fact that she lives in my house, I almost (that's: almost) feel like I don't have the right to tell her she can't do this or can't go there. The kid, er, young adult needs her freedom - to a certain extent. If I could have all of my kids live in glass bubbles and still be well-developed, socially accepted individuals, I totally would.

But I can't. And that's hard. The silver hairs are sprouting left and right. Literally. Some on the left side. More on the right side. But then, the right side is thinner so maybe they're just easier to see.

I know she doesn't realize how much stress mom goes through staying up 3 hours past her bedtime, waiting for her to get home. She drove and picked up two friends, whom I've met and typically like. She then drove them to the college, which she apparently made it to safe and sound because she sent me a  text when she got there. And now.... I wait.

Hoping that she fixes her own drinks and doesn't accept any food or drink from a stranger. (She should remember that one; we've been covering that since first grade.) And she'd better not go out any back doors. And she should know not to go to the restroom alone. And have her car key at the ready when she goes to the parking lot so she doesn't fumble around in the dark. And I'm really hoping she remembers that the roads are still wet in places from the rain, and that there are deer that like to jump in front of cars, and that it's a Friday night and there are drunk drivers and stupid people that text while driving. And there's just so much that you'll hope they remember. After all, you don't want to sound like a nag by repeating the same things every single time she goes out.

But I do. Even though I know she doesn't like it.





Okay. I'm back. Just wanted to make sure for the fourth time that the outside lights have been left on.

Oh I remember the days when I thought mom and dad were being completely ridiculous. Driving around at night was no big deal. I never saw deer on the road. And drunk drivers? They weren't near as common as they are today..... Or maybe they were, but I was to busy being oblivious to all of the real dangers that mom and dad constantly harped about.

12:09 a.m. Officially Saturday morning. she should have texted me by now saying that she is leaving the party. Should I start freaking out now? I've asked her a million times (okay, many times) why she thinks I pay for her cell phone. Does she think I pay for it so she can text her friends, leaving her mom hanging by a thread, sags and bags building under my eyes that take more and more time every morning to try to conceal. I'm going to be forced to stop paying for her cell phone just so I can afford an eye lift in another year.

12:12 a.m. Still no text. How could she forget? Is it so hard to pull out the phone and type a two word message and press 'Send'? No. The answer is "No". She's admitted this before. In fact, I know she will get home, walk in the door, stop in to see if I'm awake, collect her laptop so she can begin posting about her fun evening. I'll ask her that question: Would it have so difficult for you to send your mother a message so that she can rest a little easier. "No. Sorry." (with stupid look on face - like she's really sorry. Who is she trying to kid?)

12:16 a.m. Coffee is officially cold. I'm slightly chilled. She told me earlier that the party ended at midnight. She and her friends would probably leave early. They would then need to be dropped off and she should be home by 12:40. I warned her: one minute past, and she won't be going out for a very long time. I can't imagine what it's going to be like waiting up for my other kids. When my youngest is 19, I will be 55-ish. How is a 55-year old woman, who probably is still going to be working full-time, supposed to stay up this late?

12:28 a.m. I just killed a little more time looking up photos for bags under the eyes and this is what I found. I thought it was pretty humorous. Maybe that's just because it's excruciatingly late and I'm so very tired. Boy when that girl gets home she's going to hear it from me. I'll have to whisper because everyone else is sleeping, but she's going to get it good for not sending a message.

12:39 a.m. Well what do you know... I just got a phone call. Yes, from my daughter. She's just leaving her friend's house to head home. There's fog. And her dippy little friend (according to my daughter) is one of the reasons why she is going to be home past 12:40. Teens today... so inconsiderate of anyone else around them and the repercussions that their actions and choices have on so many other people. Do any of them ever think that "Oh, your mom is waiting up, maybe I shouldn't take off and start dancing with some stranger when I know you have to leave soon." But they don't think.

12:43 a.m. She'll be home soon. I can finally run Spell Check and get this thing posted. Then I can snuggle into my warm bed and pick up my book and pretend that I wasn't completely freaked out of my mind. Nope. Going to play it nice and cool - after I inform her that she's grounded.

Can you ground a 19 year old?