Children

My Brianne and my Ryan. She's 18, he's 16. They are my younger two and they are the ones who help me feel very young on some days and very old on others. The red head has a red mouth because he was feasting on Doritos; probably because there was "no food" in the house. The blue eyed blonde was excited and happy, forcing brother to smile, because she was officially finished with that dreadful place called high school. I, the mother, had no problem smiling. I've had enough of the drama that comes along with high school girls, particularly bipolar ones whose mothers are also that way. All these years of mothering...my oldest son is almost 27...have me feeling like, "OKAY, may I have a REST now?" It's not that I didn't/don't enjoy mothering, it's just that my children don't always enjoy being mothered. I did say mothered, not smothered. I remember how I was as a teen. I just wanted to have fun, no responsibility and everything on my terms and under my control. But I was very quiet about what and how I wanted things. How do you balance teaching your children to be responsible, respectful AND how to rest!? When they get to this age, they're being pulled in different directions from different people for different reasons. My heart needs an adjustment. They are still children, my children. But not really. Ouch.