I confess that as much as I dream of the day I say "Sayonara" to the kids forever (not on my deathbed but at the Honolulu Airport sending them off to some Ivy League school on full scholarship), I am terrified of them being on their own and independent. Each time I think about them going off into the big, bad world, I flashback to that moment in the Martin Lawrence (or Raven Symone movie for you youngsters) College Road Trip when the parents say their final goodbye and send their daughter off to her dorm. The parents do not see an adult waving to them but a teeny, innocent, totally defenseless girl. Think of the Cosby Show Raven - cute little Olivia - and not the Grand Teton cleavage bearing Raven who was just a judge on RuPaul's Drag U.
Even though the teenage twins tower over me as I am pretty much now at armpit level to them, I too still see them as two helpless premature babies unable to do anything for themselves. Well, perhaps that is not much of a change as they still seem to be unable (or specifically, unwilling) to do anything for themselves. Yet, although they have finally grown into the haole side of their physical makeups, I am not quite prepared to let them venture out without being a hovering manic helicopter Mom trying to control them however I can.
I am trying to understand my incessant need to keep them dependent on me as it seems like some of my peers do not have the same approach when it comes to parenting. My friend's son who is in the same grade as the Professor and the Diva catches the bus from home each morning to a shopping center near his school then walks the rest of the way to campus. He does the return trip too, leaving campus in the very late afternoon. As my friend told me about this, I tried my best to bury the feeling of utter terror that was welling up inside of the pit of my stomach when I thought about my kids having to do the same sort of thing in an emergency, let alone on a daily basis. I really had to battle to keep what the kids call my "fake smiling face" on when she said that he did not have a cell phone. Even though my kids send my calls directly to voice mail, just knowing that I have some semblance of a connection to them (or HPD can track them via their phones if they are kidnapped by someone in a white van) gives me a little bit of probably misplaced peace of mind. My friend however, did not seem to have any concerns at all.
I talked to Oscar the Grouch about it as he is of the opinion that my goal to keep the kids as "baby-fied" as possible until I need them to grow up and take care of me in my old age (looming closely on the horizon) is horribly psychotic and based on some warped sense of "that's what we Japanese people do". He did not think there was a problem with a SON catching the bus but said he would not let our SON do that without a phone. I know this is due to the whole dysfunctional Daddy-Daughter relationship thing because he agreed with me that it was kind of scary that one of the Diva's female friends caught the bus from Ala Moana to the Windward side alone late on a Saturday afternoon.
The twins as usual totally disagreed with our assessment, calling us overprotective, accusing us of not trusting them and throwing in their current favorite dig, being "too old". The tide changed when we suggested that as they seemed supportive of alternate eco-friendly transportation, perhaps they should consider catching the bus and walking home too - particularly on those days when calls to 'come to Autoline now" result in Mom sitting in the car for 30 minutes inhaling toxic fumes from farting Tigers. As expected, their perspective switched over and we were peppered with comments they had clearly heard my Mother recite whenever the prospect of social interaction with any non-Asian non-private school student arises - "A pimp might try to get the Diva to be a hooker", "Someone might want us to do crack with them", "We might have to sit next to a homeless guy who smells", "People will beat us up because we go to our school" and "What if we have to go to the bathroom?" This discussion ended with their catch-all phrase, "You decided to give birth to us so it's your responsibility to take care of us."
As they said this, I could feel the heavy bags of Mommy guilt heaped upon my shoulders. Gee, I thought they were gone once we cut that check for tuition but somehow, they came back with a vengeance. I still feel my back hurting as I write. Little do the kids realize though, that with every pang of Mommy guilt is accompanied with a shortening of that invisible umbilical cord that keeps them tied to my busted up uterus. That each time I freak out, they get reeled back in.
If I could, I would put them in a giant plastic ball like the ones they have for hamsters whenever they are out of my sight. I'd give them some freedom - they could choose the color - but that's about it.
When I look at them from a distance, I see two responsible people who know right from wrong and make pretty good decisions most of the time. They do their "job" as students and are caring, compassionate people (to everyone except those of us in their immediate family). In my head, I know that they deserve independence and have earned the right to be free from my vulture-like clutches. But just when I get ready to let the rope slack a little, CNN airs a program on child prostitution,
a kid gets beaten up at a park or yet another Disney starlet gets preggers out of wedlock.
I can't even write about my feelings when it comes to the Mad Cow. Suffice it to say, DENIAL is more than a river in Egypt.
So kids, when applying for college, pick a dorm that has a nice orthopedic bed for Mommy because I'm going with you!
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