No worry wart here

I had a mini-conversation with my daughter the other day in which I told her I’m working on worrying less. “You are!!??” she said. “Yes!!!” I said, to which she sarcastically replied “so, are you worried about that?” I said “huh”? She said the way I answered “Yes!” sounded to her like I was worried about worrying less . . .or something like that. I don’t know; she lost me there somewhere...smartalec. I know I worry too much. No need for her to rub it in. I worry about my house. I worry about my yard. I worry about my pets. I worry about spiders. I worry about lost boots. I worry about my TV. I worry about my mom. I used to worry terribly about my dad. I worry about work. I worry about the economy. I worry about things that probably won't happen. I worry about things that can't happen. But my biggest worry of all, the gargantuan of all my worries, is about my kids (even though they're not "kids" anymore). I’ve worried about them all their lives. I’ll never completely stop worrying about them because that's what parents do. They worry. But with practice I can lessen the amount of it. Yes, I can. Hear me Emily? Yes, I can.

One side effect of worrying is giving advice. Yep, unwanted advice and plenty of it. My kids don't like it when I worry about them and they especially don't like it when I give them advice -- which they don't understand I only do because I worry about them. Some day they'll understand. Some day they too will feel the adrenalin rush of waking to a 2 AM phone call from their own child. Some day they'll be the one on the receiving end hoping and praying that everything is ok. Yessiree Bob, worrying is a vicious cycle and giving advice is sort of like spittin in the wind; it just blows back in your face. The four short sentences below (copied from a handy dandy self help book) hit it right on the nail. It gives the following tips to any parent considering giving advice to their adult children: 1) They Don’t Want It; 2) They Don’t Hear It; 3) They Resent It; 4) Don’t Give It.

How true, how true. Over the years my sage advice has gotten me more queer looks and eye rolls than I care to recall. Still it's hard to keep my two cents to myself; especially when I am, after all, the older and wiser one (my kids just think I'm old...and not all that wise). Stifling my advice and trusting their instincts isn't easy though. It's also not easy knowing they don't need me as much and I’m no longer the center of their universe even though in my heart they’re still the center of mine. I suppose that means they've truly grown up. It also means I can now worry less about them. I can let them live their own lives. And if they don't call often or make an effort to "keep me in the loop", I needn't worry. I have to remember I have good kids who will usually try and do the right thing ("usually" because, like me, they're not perfect). But they are good and I am proud of them and it's time I stop being a worry wart and concentrate on that. (Now if I could just stop worrying about spiders and stuff).

The following is an excerpt from an article I read recently. It basically says live your own life, not anyone else’s, including your children’s. It makes perfect sense to me. Wish I had written it myself.

Learning to let your grown children go. 

1. Learn to listen to their problems without offering suggestions - unless nearly begged for information. And even then leave the ball in their court.
2. Don't offer safety tips that you know work, because sometimes they don't work when they are done without faith.
3. Allow them to bang their heads. Don't try to run ahead of them and take the blows of life's lessons.
4. Accept their beliefs because they are theirs. Don't offer books for them to read. Instead, read the books and smile, knowing they will want to know why.
5. Don't be available every time they need you.
6. Feel as if they are on their journey, as you are on yours.
7. Finally accept that they came through you and are really not yours to own. Don't feel responsible for their choices, be they the ones you would choose or not.
8. Wake up not feeling any fear of accidents or trauma. You are now only a loving bystander.
9. Still call just to say "hi" during a rainstorm. It makes you feel good to know if they are all safely in their homes. But if not, you are still okay.

Now, there's some sage advice.
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