At some point, their journey becomes their own. Rather than steal from our children's futures by offering an endless supply of excuses, instant answers, and free passes, we need to prepare them for a life without us.
What’s the big deal with going no contact? Well, for one, it’s dangerous, devastating and, often, unjustified. Beyond that, it’s not healthy. It stunts emotional maturity and growth.
I've become an expert at baiting my no-contact kid into a conversation. My methods? Forwarding mail, paying for college, having a death in the family, etc.
Look, it was my mistake, okay? Still, having hope for my husband’s E.S.P. to come in is fine, as long as I consider that a very loose and unpredictable fallback plan.
"She brought an emotional support toy into the appointment." The price of pets? Worth it.
A week of chaos, ranging from expired passports, weekday graduations, skin scans, and no-contact children. Can I get an amen? No? How about a margarita?
Six weeks and I’ve resisted the urge to throw on the ALL CAPS button before responding, “WHICH ONE OF YOU IS IN COLLEGE?”
Currently, the broken rules in my youngest’s room represent the actual bridge between childhood and adulting: Teddy Grahams on one side, Stoli on the other.
Was I avoiding my first trip "home?" Well, yes, actually. How'd it go? All the ways.
What’s that saying? You can lead a horse to water, but you can’t shove its head in for a drink?
