If I was a drinking mom...

98.2% Of the time I have nothing but fun being a mom. It's what I live for. I've been doing it for a long time, just over 21 years to be exact, and I happen to think I'm pretty good at it.

When my son was 14 he sent me a text message that simply stated "yur a kewl mom" and my heart soared to new heights.

As an older teenager, and even now beyond teen years, he still hugs me and tells me he loves me. It doesn't matter to him who hears.  He's proud. I'm proud. I've obviously done a good job.

Now ...  about that 1.8% of the time that motherhood is not fun. The small bit of time when you're just sure you're about to have a heart attack. The moments when you watch your child do something and time seems to freeze as all possible outcomes run through your mind and none of them have a happy ending.
I remember finding pictures of my son and his neighborhood friend ... on my roof ... on skateboards. My mind boggled at the fact that they #1 Got up there, #2 Were on wheeled things and #3 I didn't find out for 5 years. How did they not break any appendages? What were they thinking?

If I was a drinking mom ...

All the dirt bicycle ramps, shakey club houses, home made archery equipment, ditches of various sizes around the property.  The large holes on the backside of the bicycle ramps bothered me the most. I guess the dirt had to come from somewhere but I would have preferred they not have a gaping hole waiting to swallow them whole if the jump went wrong.

Actually, I would have preferred it if had they kept all wheels of any kind on the ground, but knowing those two evil geniuses they would have found a loop hole to jump the bikes through while they followed my rules to a "T."

If I was a drinking mom ...

The amazing array of transport modes those two boys built using anything they could find that would roll.  Working so hard to make the next one go faster than the last. Tim Taylor would have been green with envy watching these two at work. Each pulling the other on foot and behind bicycles (or whatever rolling thing they had most recently invented) down my sloping, curved, and thankfully not heavily traversed street so they could both experience the thrills that would later drive me to wonder, where the hell was I when this all happened?

I was at work of course, so there was nothing I could do to stop them from performing stunts that, when combined with my son's body, scare me to death.  I had no idea what dangers my son was persuing while I was doing my best to keep him safe and warm.

I wonder if Evel Knievel's mom felt like this? Did she hold her breath every time he went out the door?  When little Evel's best friend came knocking did she shudder with fear and hold her breath until her son was safely back home? How many times did they have to resuscitate Mrs. Knievel?

I remember thinking how I couldn't wait until my son was an adult so I wouldn't have to worry about him anymore.  He'll be responsible for himself and I won't have to wonder what he's up to now.

Finally, the day came when my son turned 18.  He became a legal adult. The neighbor went off to college in another state. Surely this meant my son would make wiser decisions when it came to entertainment! Nope. His new group of friends, while a nice group of guys, only brought with them a new kind of mother-heart stopping fun.

If I was a drinking mom ...

Ok, it's not long till he turns 21. That just has to be the age when he turns a corner into adulthood and responsibility. Things will be fine. Ha! I could not have been more ignorant. Now my son is a 21 year old adult with more inventive friends who worry me in bigger and grander ways. I have seen the evidence. It is on youtube.

My son came home the other day and said, "I have another video, but I don't know if I should show it to you."

Really???  If I was a drinking mom ...

My mind went straight into mom mode. I wanted to see the video and ground him for whatever it contained once the medics were able to resuscitate me. Then I realized my mothering days, as I knew them, are done. I can only do what my son asks of me now. Gone are the days of curfews and with them went my parental right to call and find out where he is and what he's doing.

So, I sighed a heavy sigh, looked my son in the eye, and although I was curious as hell, I said, "If you have to wonder whether or not you should show your mom a video of something you did, you probably better not show me."

With a shrug of his shoulder he says, "Yeah, that's what I was thinkin' too." and made himself a very ordinary sandwich for lunch.  Look at him! Just standing there, ever so nonchalantly consuming food like everything is right with the world.

I still don't know what the video shows.

I'm not sure I want to know.

There is one thing I know beyond a shadow of a doubt.

If I was a drinking mom.....