Snacking my way through worry

A couple weeks ago my daughters went to a concert. It’s really the first time they’ve been to any major event without me. At least it was for my youngest; my oldest is away at college and I’m probably not privy to everywhere she goes

A couple weeks ago my daughters went to a concert. It’s really the first time they’ve been to any major event without me. At least it was for my youngest; my oldest is away at college and I’m probably not privy to everywhere she goes.

My youngest drove to her sister’s apartment in Redmond, she’d never done that, so I had her text me when she got there. I also had her text me when they left, text me when they stood in line for a photo with the band, text me when they went to eat, text me when they got to the concert venue, text me when they got into seating, text me when they left, text me when they got back to my daughter’s apartment.

Gosh, I’ve always considered myself an overprotective mother, but now that I’ve written it out, I’m thinking I’m an over-obsessive mother. To my credit, part of the communication was them telling me how much fun they were having.

However, we have to wonder at us parents these days. Our parents only dreamed of knowing where we were at all times. When I was telling my mom how nervous I was, she told me the story of when my sister was 14-years old and she wanted to go on a three-day hike over the mountain behind our house. We lived nestled by a river at the foot of the Cascades.

When my sister wanted to do something, she researched it thoroughly before presenting it to our parents. As the younger sibling, I was in it for the snacks.

My mom, of course, thought it was a bad idea; we were 14 and 12 years old. But rather than argue with my sister over the danger, she decided to have a ranger come talk to us. So she gathered our party of hikers, which also included two of my sister’s classmates, assuming the ranger would give us a stern talking to about the risk of hiking through a forest without adult supervision.

Needless to say, my mom was horrified; rather than caution us, the ranger was thrilled young people wanted an enriching challenge. He proceeded to give us packing tips and safety advice.

The idea of the one boy we had with us seemed to calm my mom a bit (with no merit, it turned out), plus he had a walkie talkie with him (it rarely got reception). Even though our parents barely knew where we actually were, we obviously came out without a scratch. It was the first of many excursions; my sister was always the catalyst, I was always in it for the snacks.

Here I am, uptight about my 17 and almost 20 year old daughters driving on populated highways in populated cities with cell phones, GPS, and a AAA card for roadside emergencies. This is one of those, “Someday when you have children of your own you will understand” predications my mother has finally seen come to fruition.

I feel fortunate we have the technology to keep better tabs on our children, although I don’t think they are as vulnerable as we make them out to be. My mom told me she cleaned house like crazy those three days to keep her mind off thinking of all the disasters we could encounter; her house had never been cleaner.

I was really glad I was at a craft and hobby retreat at my church all weekend just so I wasn’t obsessed by their whereabouts more than I already was. If I hadn’t been there, my house would probably be cleaner than it has ever been or I would have snacked my way through it.

Gretchen Leigh is a stay-at-home mom who lives in Covington. You can read more of her writing and her daily blog on her website livingwithgleigh.com or on Facebook at “Living with Gleigh.”