Being a parent is tough! When my kiddos were young, they needed simple things; diaper changes, bottle feedings, songs, developmental activities, a home daycare where they could get loving from a grandmotherly type caregiver, and lots of hugs and kisses.  Babies are so much fun!

As they aged, they needed help with their homework, transportation to extra curricular activities like soccer and dance, nutritious food, and lots of hugs and kisses.  We did many family activities, such as going to the tiny house in NH, on cruises, to Disney World and Rocky Point. Holidays such as Easter and Christmas were great fun, albeit not too extravagant.  Involvement in our church was important, as was volunteering where the children learned to do things for the less fortunate. Having children was so much fun!

Teenagerhood was a little more difficult, and I suspect it would have been worse had I known what was REALLY going on! (Years later, I noticed that the bushes outside my daughter’s bedroom were smooshed, ostensibly from her sneaking out of her bedroom at night.) They all happily graduated from high school, some of them happier than others, of course.  A few of them went to college, with the expenses necessitating a second mortgage on our house, which we are still paying off.

As adults, I pictured their happy families inviting us for holidays and celebrating birthdays together, with lots of hugs and smiles. I would celebrate special occasions with them, such as the birth of a child or a dance recital. They would come to me for my wise advice, and my grandchildren would flock to me as my grandchildren were drawn to MY mother. My dreams have been dashed. I am a failure as the parent of adult children.

Half of my six grandchildren love me, but I am unfortunately inconsequential to the other three. Technology is their main love, and Facebooking friends or playing games on their phones supersedes any type of socialization. Not one to play favorites, all six get equally priced gifts for birthdays, Christmas, Valentines Day and Easter.  I pick out thoughtful, individual items for each child, hoping to get a “thank you” in return, something not always forthcoming. It might be best to just give the gifts to those who appreciate them, but I am eternally hopeful and not ready to draw that line yet.

Most disappointing is that I do not have the skills to have a better relationship with a few of my adult children who choose to live their lives sans parents, preferring their independence over inclusion in an extended family.  They have every right, of course, to live their lives how they wish, but in my dreams we were one big, happy family. It hurts my heart that we are not as close as I had hoped. Being the parent of adult children is no fun at all!