50-something Moms Blog

Please Send money

Parenting a college-bound student is a tricky business.  Trying to combine your emotional and financial support with your child's new found independence can seem nearly impossible.  When my daughters went off to college, I wrestled with how to give love and support without them expecting too much.

As a mom, we worry about our kids eating properly, so we send care packages.  They come home on break, and you find yourself sending back half of the pantry and refrigerator.  You are out shopping and you pick up those little extra things they might need.  I have even caught my husband slipping them money “just in case of an emergency.” The girls never fail to phone home when they are short on cash.  It is easy for kids to fall in a pattern of expecting us to “foot the bill,” for all of those unexpected expenses. 

Both our girls seemed convinced that the money they earn over the summer, lasts forever.  Let’s see, $7 an hour for 20-30 hours a week…hmm that’s a fortune.  Unfortunately, Mom and Dad end up supplementing this meager amount, well before the school year is over.

So Much For Downsizing

Sending your child off to college for the first time isn't easy, especially when they seem to be taking half of your house with them.  When my daughter was ready to leave the nest, I found myself hovering over her like a humming bird.  I resisted the urge to ask… “Do you really have room for that?” or “Are you sure you don’t want to take this with you?”

Numerous trips to the store led to us purchasing a Futon, desk chair, refrigerator and microwave.  That didn’t even include the bedding, bath and desk accessories. 

As my husband grumbled about “where in the heck” she was going to put it all, I was busy finding places to store everything until school started. Reflecting back on how small my college dorm room was I felt myself having a panic attack trying to imagine where she would stash all this stuff. 

Move-in day arrived and after endless trips to the car, her room appeared stripped clean with our two vehicles fully loaded.  Somehow she and her roommate managed to find a place with for everything. This included bins filled with comfort snack foods for those nights when she couldn’t face dorm food again or was pulling all night study secessions.

Text, Text, Texting at Heaven's Door

Moms never get sick.  Only an outbreak of Cholera or the Bubonic Plague might elicit some family sympathy.   Recently, the stomach flu decided that this mom had dodged the bullet one too many times.  Within minutes, my health status was transmitted across our cell phone network.

My eldest paid me a visit on her way to classes, after hearing me moaning.  She immediately whipped out her cell phone and began texting her younger sister, who while away at college, had been home the previous weekend.  

“What are you texting her?” I asked as I raced past her on my way to the bathroom. 

Moms never get sick.  Only an outbreak of Cholera or the Bubonic Plague might elicit some family sympathy.   Recently, the stomach flu decided that this mom had dodged the bullet one too many times.  Within minutes, my health status was transmitted across our cell phone network.

My eldest paid me a visit on her way to classes, after hearing me moaning.  She immediately whipped out her cell phone and began texting her younger sister, who while away at college, had been home the previous weekend.  

“What are you texting her?” I asked as I raced past her on my way to the bathroom. 

Spam Warfare

I am not quite 50, yet am constantly informed that I am almost “over the hill” as the greeting card industry takes great pleasure in reminding me.  My television is bombarded with AARP and incontinence ads, while Alex Trebek is trying to sell me more life insurance.   I am instructed to buy emergency alert buttons in case I fall and can’t get up.  However the ones that irritate me the most are the Cialis and Viagra ads.  The Cialis commercial with the two bathtubs is my favorite.  I still haven’t figured out how the couple can be in two separate bathtubs and still get the job done.  Perhaps they are in dire need of couples counseling.  

I can overlook the fact that our media is trying to make money off of a captive audience, but when they start messing with my email…it means war!  The other morning as I checked email, I had over 300 spam mails.  Curious, I opened up the file to see who was the culprit.  Apparently, the pharmaceutical industry had begun a campaign to barrage me with annoying emails.  I was their latest victim and I didn’t even suffer from Erectile Dysfunction (ED).  This is what I received: