Suburban Kvetch

I worried about my kids when I was pregnant…

but at least I knew where they were!

Prepare yourself.  When you have a high school senior who drives, you don’t always know where he is.  The maternal GPS that guides us through many years fails to function when kids hit a certain age.  And prepare yourself again.  When you trust them, you get used to it.

I’m currently pacing myself with the ‘Where r u?’ texts.  And there are many times that my seventeen-year-old son calls or texts with his location (sometimes when he doesn’t even need money) before I get to him.  I figure that if in fourteen months he’s going to go away to college that I better get comfy not always knowing where he is or what he’s doing, and that he needs to be comfortable with it too.  I remember not that many years ago when he called me every hour when he was gone with friends.  After a while I told him he didn’t have to call me - unless he wanted to - or unless he was changing locations - even if he was walking — which was his modus transportationi  until he was sixteen.   Then we got to the point where he was asking permission only if he wanted to out of our little two-town area.  Now, he tells me where he’s going or he tells me when he gets there.  Permission comes into play when curfew is in question or if he has people to our house, if he wants to miss dinner.  Or if he wants to sleep out.

Which is what he did last night.  At a friend’s whom I know well.  The mom is one of my closest friends.  And she was away.  Overnight.

Three boys and a dog sleeping in a house without an adult - with neighbors (pre-planned) ringing the doorbell to check on them walk the dog.   There are multiple emergency exits doors and plenty of smoke detectors.  And I am just a minute away.

So I agreed.

I think he was shocked, because I did not allow him to stay alone overnight in May when I went away for the weekend.  The mean mom that I am forced him to come into Chicago for the night, stay at a friend’s loft with two other teenager boys and my friend’s husband and then join us for a five-star brunch the next morning at the Park Hyatt.  I know.  I’m awful.

But this time it worked for me.  Maybe because it wasn’t my good time that would up for grabs wondering what was going on and not being nearby.  Last night was the same as any other around here except I didn’t have to wake up when he came in to say good-night.  I did my motherly text…and in doing so I wanted him to realize and maybe appreciate that if he wanted to come home that was OK with me I trust him.

“Call if you need anything or in the morning.”

“Yep love u goodnight.”

And with that, I slept like a rock and didn’t worry at all.