On sons and daughters

I spoke to my son a few days ago.  He was stressed about some technology issues he was having at school, and during the course of our conversation, I could hear his stress melt away.  I did nothing to make the situation better.  I only gave him the opportunity to vent.  It made me glad that I was still of use to my son, and as the conversation wound down, I said, so I will talk to you soon, goodbye.  I initiated the end of the conversation with my son.

I spoke to my daughter yesterday.  I texted her in the early afternoon that I needed to hear her voice.  I couldn't get my mind off her, and I just wanted to know she was fine  fill my personal need for a connection with her.  Not being able to reach her actually made me kind of frantic.  I began to have unfound worries.  I began to obsess.  I grew sad.  Finally she called me, and the weight lifted, but I wanted to stay on the phone with her forever.

One might think that I love my daughter more than my son.  But I don't.  I don't him more than her either, but we just have different connections.  I always expected my son to go forth on his own and make his way independent of me... after all, he's a dude.  But being am introvert, he has always needed a little push to get things going.   For that reason, we have always had the kind of relationship where I am at his back... nudging him forward.  On the other hand, while it has always been apparent that my daughter was fiercely independent, we have always had the kind of relationship where I hold onto her with both arms, enjoying every minute she would give me before she would pull away, and try something new that I would never-ever consider doing.

I don't really have a synopsis for this post, just pondering the differences in my relationships with each child that I have spent 90% of my time with for the past decade or so, only to have them grow up and go forth.

That is all.   Any therapists want to weigh in.

Finding some joy on an otherwise sad day

On this 12th anniversary of 9-11, I am feeling traumatized by the media's insistence to replay footage.  Turning on the radio or the TV and seeing footage as if the planes are just not striking the building is very hard to digest.  I wish they would at least lower the original dialogue and talk over it so it doesn't feel like real time.

I will never forget, but If this causes me to re-live it, what about the people who experienced this in person?

In other news, here's a completely unrelated video clip that brought me joy today.

I went to Zumba

So I got railroaded into going to Zumba today.

FYI.  I have no rhythm, but in the spirit of taking care of myself, I went.

While most of the women were kinda keeping up, and other's were twerking, I was pretty much jerking around like I had a physical ailment.

My personal performance reminded me of this "tweaking" (not really twerking) video

Having kids in college is wearing out my nerves

... And I thought teaching them was taxing. From dealing with son's financials, which are a mess due to late application and etc over the summer, and dealing with daughter's roommate issues, I am exhausted.

Son's money is straight now and he will have his cash for the semester shortly.  Next year, I will just save up money over the summer and skip the loan.  I'd rather be broke for a minute than to be treated like I am trying to get a handout when I am still paying back the stinking loan, so that is that.

Daughter's roommate moved out before you can say "hello, my name is..."  As a mom, I was pretty unhappy, seeing as they met last winter, hit it off, and decided to pair up.  But ex roomie wanted privacy, and they are still friendly, so that is that.

Hopefully new roomie will be quieter than my kid suspects cause little homie has a scholarship and needs quiet study time.   On the plus side, my kids are having an easy time with academics so it's all good.

Now I need to get a life, so I can stop hyper-focusing on theirs.