Loosening the Apron Strings

I think all moms know that at some point, the apron strings need to loosen . . . gradually . . . a little bit at a time . . . sslllooooowwwwwwlllllyyyyy . . .

Lately I have noticed the apron strings between Morgan and I loosening a bit faster than I'm ready for. I'm not sure that I'm ready. As you know from previous posts, Cody has been sick with mono and so home all the time. It's been a nice time for "bonding" (as much as a teenage boy can bond!) between Cody and I.

Cody being home all day means Morgan has been doing more at the ranch with the cattle. She's been there, with Tim, all day, and she's taken over a lot of Cody's responsibilities. The last few days, when she comes home for lunch or at the end of the day, she's been rather . . . cool . . . to me. This is something I never thought would happen with my sweet little girl!

We've always been very close, but now when she comes home she doesn't call out "Hi Mom!" to me. She heads straight to her beagle or the refrigerator . . . instead of straight to me for a hug. When she leaves, she yells "Bye mom!" and heads out the door without waiting for a reply or a hug. I, of course, catch her before she drives off and demand my hug as house rules dictate no one leaves the house without a hug for mom!

She used to tell me every detail of what everyone said and did (including the cattle) when she was at the ranch. Now she recounts the day only to my pointed questions . . . and her responses are along the lines of, "Fine." "Nothing." "Not really." "No." "Yes." all punctuated with a huge sigh. In other words, "Mom, it is a tremendous burden on me to have to reply to your inane questions to which the answers should be obvious. Please, quit annoying me."

Paradoxically, she is quite strident in her requests of me (and my failure to meet her high standards in doing so). Every day she asks, "So, mother dear, what have you lovingly planned, selectively shopped for, and carefully prepared for my dining pleasure?" OK, back to real life; she asks, in a rather crabby way, "So what's for lunch?"

My reply could be, "Darling daughter, I have imported the finest food you can imagine. You have your choice of lobster, caviar, a hamburger, ribeye prepared medium rare, baked, mashed, or hash brown potatoes, salad with or without dressing, or anything else your dear heart could desire!" and her reply would be, "That doesn't sound good. Don't you know I don't like lobster, caviar, a hamburger, or anything else you could even dream of making me? You will never live up to my expectations, Mother."

Perhaps God makes it easier for us to untie those apron strings by making kids moody, tempermental, and with an attitude as big as the sky.

Thankfully, He also gives me the early morning moments when Morgan is asleep and I can hug her as tightly and for as long as I want to (she's a heavy sleeper), and whisper "I love you Morgan!" and hear her whisper back from deep in dreamland, "I love you too, mom!"