Being a parent is one of the toughest jobs in the universe. Which is why, until I found I was pregnant with my first child, I was adamant…I was not going to have kids. Period. I was not tough enough. I was too selfish. I was unable to take on that kind of responsibility.  But that all changed when my son was born. And then my daughter. The feelings of unconditional love and joy that I felt, and still feel, are all consuming. Both my kids are adults now, but there is not one minute of any day when I don’t think of them…Even if only for a fleeting second.

One of the things I found after I had them is that I had the capability of being a ruthless, fierce protector. Capable of serious mayhem if I wasn’t careful. My babies were off limits to anyone or anything at any time that might do them harm. I wasn’t exactly a “helicopter” parent, but I was watchful and vigilant and the meanest mom in the neighborhood because I set limits. They had curfews. They needed to let me know where they were and who they were playing with. There were places they were not allowed to go. Of course, there were times the curfews were broken. And I am sure they didn’t always let me know where they were exactly or who they were hanging out with . And I know they went to those forbidden places on occasion, thinking I didn’t know.

Watching them grow up was a joy and a blessing, heart-wrenching and painful, all at the same time. Watching their struggles created the deepest wounds in my heart. Feelings that ran as deep as my DNA, and made me ache to my very soul. Especially as they became teenagers and young adults. I had brought them up to be strong and independent. But that didn’t mean I didn’t want to grab them in a bear hug and try to fix  whatever was broken when they were hurting. I still have to stop myself from pulling them into my lap and rocking them if I think they are hurting.

The hardest thing I’ve had to do as a mom is to let them figure things out for themselves. Even when I can see that there is clearly something wrong, I have learned not to offer unwanted advice. Not to ask too many questions. When to back off with my “interrogations”….when to just sit and listen. But really I just want to know what’s going on in their lives. Even if it’s something that is hard for me to hear. I just want to be a part of their lives.

My son is living on his own, and has been for a while now. My daughter has moved in and out a few times while at school, but I think it won’t be long before she leaves the nest for her own kind of independence. And I am glad. And sad. And lonely for the days when they would rush in from the school bus, drop their stuff on the floor, wrap their little arms around me and clamor for a snack-their main concern being “what’s for supper?”

As they continue to grow up and face whatever life has in store for them, all I want them to know is that I am always here for them. No matter what. Unconditionally. Always their ruthless protector. Always their biggest champion. Always.