New Studies Show Estrogen linked to Mothers' patience for teenage angst............ Warning: Some material may be unsuitable for pre-menopausal mothers

At 2:00 in the morning I have my most profound revelations.

Last night (or rather early this morning) I had an epiphany that could change the way we view menopause and mothering.  I fell asleep at the usual time, book on my chest, glasses askew on my face.  Shortly thereafter I came to the surface just enough to stash my book and glasses, turn off the light and adjust my pillow.   Ahhh....  But then, instead of sinking into REM sleep per usual, I was wide awake like someone had just screamed "FIRE!!"  And what was the first thing that popped into my mind?  My daughter.  My 18 year old, red-headed daughter, who is finishing high school (by the skin of her teeth) and figuring out what next year will bring.  Who has made some choices this year that, on paper sounded fine, grand even.  But in reality did not pan out as promised and have me really concerned.

So I lose sleep. But instead of merely fretting and worrying, I am angry.  Angry because at age 54, I am definitely ready for this to end.  After 23 years of nurturing, soothing, worrying, loving, commiserating, adjusting, psycholigizing, praying, hoping, crying, laughing...  I'm just about out of steam!  I still love my kids dearly.  Still want for them all the things I ever have.  Still rejoice when they are successful and happy and share the times that are disappointing.  But the difference is, when a problem arises that I know will need dissecting, counseling, working through, and loads of patience on my part, what I really want to say is, "GET OVER IT!" I just don't know how many more of these episodes I have left in me.   

All is calm, all is bright.

Yes, Christmas IS over.  I have been baffled as to why I feel it so acutely this year.  Why am I crying so much, grieving so much?  What is it?  Normally, I am relieved when all the madness has passed.  I love the post-Christmas time. 

I was pondering this, baffled and weepy, when it struck me.  This was the last Christmas when both my daughters will be living at home.  This time next year, Sarah will be living in her own apartment and Julia will have moved out to attend college.  Instead of waking up with them in the house, they will be coming home for Christmas - possibly sometime late morning!  Oh...  maybe they will come home for Christmas eve and spend the night.  But they might not.  It will be their choice.  I hope they will choose to be with us on Christmas Eve but I can no longer hang on to that expectation - especially for Sarah.

Here's the tricky part.  Accepting whatever it is they decide.  Not being disappointed.  Not taking it as a personal affront to the years I spent creating a sense of holiday in the house.  Not interpreting it as a rejection, but celebrating it as a graduation to a different phase of our family life.

On Christmas Day, I looked out the window of the boat and saw our neighbor's adult children walking down the dock towards their boat, arms laden with packages and smiles lighting up their faces.  That's nice, I thought.  I can get used to that.  Imagine the joy of hearing the knock on the door and knowing "they're here!"  Especially if their lives are productive and happy and independent.  Yes - that will be good.  Dan & I will spend the morning preparing a lovely brunch.  Gifts will have been wrapped - not in secret - but out in the open the night before.  It will be good.  It will....

To tell the truth, the last few years in the house, I found myself decorating the tree by myself, quite sad that the kids had better things to do and absolutely zero interest in oohing and aahhhing over the cherished ornaments.  It was winding down already, but I was holding on to it for dear life.  Especially as I knew the house sale was inevitable.

This year I asked, "does anyone want to bake Christmas cookies?"  (Both girls are trying to avoid wheat and both are working on maintaining a healthy weight - especially during the holidays.)  "Nah," came the reply.  I was not disappointed.  Not at all.  I was relieved.

I think I am going to like this.  I think I've been waiting for it for a long time.  A holiday where we are adults and we enjoy each other as such.  When the grandchildren come, I may steal them away for a  bit to resurrect some of the fun.  But for now - this is just fine.

Hold that thought.