Mom Stuff I Can't Stop Doing

My youngest son is in town, visiting on a break between semesters. Today we went out to run some errands, one of which was to drop off his car to see why it was shaky at high speeds. His usual driving consists only of short trips, at low speed, to shop for his basic necessities, so he didn't notice the shakiness until he came here last night and drove on the highway. With the hurricane heading this way -- and, yes, I know it can shift at any minute, but all of Florida is under a state of emergency -- at the very least we will have heavy rain on Sunday when he is scheduled to go back to Orlando, and I want to make sure his car is safe. That's not an overbearing mom thing. But as we walked into the grocery store, across the traffic lane, I found myself placing an arm in front of him when I saw a car coming. The car waved us forward. Did I consciously think that my recently-turned-twenty-three-year-old son would walk into the path of an oncoming car? Of course not. I didn't think about it at all. Years of instinctual mom behavior doesn't stop simply because your child is (seemingly suddenly) an adult. At least my son is gracious about it. If he noticed, he didn't say so. He, of all my sons, is most likely not to point out my "over-mom-ness".

We took care of some other business besides the grocery shopping while the car was being repaired (it turned out the tires needed to be rotated), and after I dropped him off to pick up his car and waited to make sure everything was good, I found myself checking my rear-view nearly constantly on the way home. When I didn't see him behind me, I slowed down a bit. Have we lived in this house for nine years? Does he know his way home? Yes to both. Why is it that I worry more when he's here than when he's away? That one I can't answer. We passed an accident on the way home, and all I wanted was to see his car in my driveway next to mine. I literally breathed a sigh of relief when he pulled up.

Tonight he is going to a Jaguars game with his brother and some other friends. He is on the road and I am less worried -- even though it's now rush hour and the beginning of the storm is supposed to roll in. He'll spend the night at his brother's house and come home in the morning, and tomorrow we will all enjoy a big Italian dinner together. Of all the mom things I do, I'm pretty sure cooking is the one my kids like most. The others, I suppose, are the price they pay for my feeding (and loving) them.