Another Day

It feels wonderful to lie (lay? Whatever) in bed and listen to the Sibs getting ready to go to work. Sort of a guilty pleasure, since as far as I can tell, they both have crappy jobs. Son works outside with a surveying group at the big power station construction; in the winter he freezes to death, even with layers and layers; in the summer he fries, and even sunblock can't prevent that farmer's tan, though using it gets him mocked by the big tough construction guys. But have they ever seen skin cancer? I think not.

Daughter works in medical records at the clinic of the university, but the handwriting is on the wall-- they just switched to all-computer patient records, and as soon as they complete the scanning of the past records (they are one-third done) how many med record employees will still be employed? One per shift is my guess. Instead of 5 on days and one for evening.

But they are big kids now, and I feel no compulsion to play "Mom" on this. One of my therapists, way back in time, enquired about the dynamics of having grown kids at home, and I said that we would, of course, help out if asked, but the management of their lives is in their hands for the most part (other than helping out with cleaning up, helping at the barn, etc.). The therapist shook his head and said something to the effect that your kids are your kids for forever (duh) and you will always act the parent with them (which is BS, or at least an attitude from the last generation). What would be the point of raising kids to think and act responsibly, if you the parent are the fall back, and thus all of life's errors can be laid at your doorstep? I changed therapists soon after, even though I liked that one, there were too many things we didn't see eye-to-eye about.

I remember that therapist said that our family acted more like roommates, that when we get home we all scatter to different rooms to pursue our own interests, rather than, I dunno, sitting down to play Parchesi together? But I have read several articles that stated that our behavior is standard for today's families; certainly having the children fail to "leave the nest" is more common than ever before. So there. Pffftttt.

What do you think? Do all your grown children fly the coop as soon as they can (I did, at 17)?

And this parting wisdom:

"Sex on television can't hurt you unless you fall off."