Nervous Mother

Sometimes I hate being a mother. Like tonight. I'm sitting on pins and needles waiting for the two oldest boys to come home. They went downtown for a concert fest. An all day event sponsored by a local radio station. The day part didn't bother me. Coming home from downtown at night does. It is easy to miss the exit and end up in some not so comforting neighborhoods. Improviser and Daredevil are 18 and 19. They are old enough to go by themselves. Rationally, I tell myself this. But, the mother part that wants to protect them still worries. I'm waiting by the phone. I jump everytime it rings. Watching them "spread their wings" is like watching them take their first step. It scares you not them.

They went to this event last year. I took them. I stayed on site, out of the way and read a book. Just in case. Call me over protective, but they were barely 17 and 18 and I had no idea what it would be like there. It was a well managed event last year. I know they need to grow up and I trust my boys so I feel confident that they won't be an any trouble. But, it 's still a mother's fear.