Or Stephanie or Kate or any one of those horrible and hated soap opera moms who constantly meddle in their son’s lives and who think the women their son’s have chosen are never good enough! Why? Because I think that’s how I could easily become if I’m not careful. . . And if you ever read this my darling child- please know that I would never, ever, purposely do anything to hurt you. And before you panic readers- no, I haven’t done anything stupid. . . yet. But seriously, this whole issue of Damien having a girlfriend is worrying me. And we all know just how paranoid I can be. I wish, if it would have worked, that I could have banned him from having ANY romantic relationships until he finishes school. This past weekend I found myself almost wishing Damien was ugly and uninteresting so the girls would ignore him! It sounds mean- but I knew my gorgeous child would have no shortage of female attention- I just never thought of how I would feel about it. I want Damien to be happy and successful in his own right. I want all his dreams to come true. I want him to have the career of his choice and feel fulfilled. I want him to meet a fabulous girl one day and fall madly in love and get married and have children and live happily ever after. I do not want him spending all the money saved in his account on a fourteen year old girl. I do not want him getting his heart broken before he’s been in high school for six months. And as much as I don’t want him to have his heart broken, neither do I want him to have a long term relationship with this girl. My point being that I wish he hadn’t gotten involved in the first place. Honestly, I haven’t met her, and I haven’t met her parents. And getting any details out of Damien is like trying to get blood out of a stone! He doesn’t seem completely bezonkers over her though, I mean- he doesn’t mention her (though I think this is normal for him), he didn’t ask to go and see her or call her this weekend (which I actually expected). And as usual I’m probably blowing everything out of all proportion. . . but I now know where the soap opera script writers get their ideas. I can almost see myself staring off into space and thinking out loud without moving my lips while I scheme and plot a way to make my son’s chosen girl look bad thereby making him run home to me and in so doing prove to my son that I know better and always have! Okay now I’m out of breath. . .
So, I am going to resist the incredibly massive temptation of telling Damien he may not date, ever; I will resist the temptation of Googling the hell out of her parents (when I find out what their names are- I will only Google them a little bit); I will make sure he always has condoms in his wallet; I will fetch and carry them both; I will chaperone them as and when I can; I will try not to interfere and give him completely unwanted advice; and I will be there if he comes home with a broken heart. Wish me luck and pray I do not turn into the mother from hell.
There Is Never An Excuse
One in three is not a statistic - one in three is a crying shame.