The Girl Is Back in Town

My troubled daughter (I still habitually label her this way) is back in town and I’ve been ruminating over this new situation. She arrived two days ago after driving 1,500 miles straight through with her location services on but turned them off as soon as she got to her boyfriend’s house. I received one text to tell me she was soooo tired, and haven’t heard anything since. Hello? I’m here. I’m your mother. Tap, tap. Is this thing on? So here I am, feeling:

Excitement: I hope and pray that THIS TIME she’ll make her life work. There are lots of good jobs here and it’s reasonably affordable to live here if you have a roommate. She also grew up here, so she knows the place and might even still have some friends. Maybe she’ll go to the dentist, the doctor, a hairstylist, let me take her shopping for new clothes and things for her home. . . . Wait, stop it. You’ve done all those things before, many times, and she is no further along than when she was 18. Do you really want to do this AGAIN?

Fear: I worry incessantly that she’ll have an issue with her boyfriend, they’ll break up again, and she’ll be on the streets or do even more self-medicating than she already does. She’s unfortunately a follower, and can’t seem to take control of her relationship or her place within it. If they fight, she retreats, becomes angry, and bails. Then I can’t find her and I’m back to worrying that she’ll take her own life.

Oh, No, Not Again!

She will just not let me rest in peace. Today is Monday, and I’m back at work after a very roller-coastery weekend. My husband and I had a lot of good times—went to a play, hiked a bunch, and even socialized with friends. However, my daughter started with some rather startling texts on Saturday morning, and I was sick with migraines for the rest of the weekend. I had to medicate to deal with the symptoms, and even slept through the Super Bowl!

Her first text was to tell me that she changed her mind BACK and was moving home after all. She buttered me up a little, saying things like, “I should listen to what my mom says,” “I do want to know how your doctor’s visit went,” and “I’ve already reapplied at my old job and have a guaranteed position since I left on good terms.”

It was a very nice text-only conversation, mostly because I just let her talk and didn’t react to anything—I wasn’t excited or cynical, I just stayed neutral and kept my nose clean! I knew what was coming, of course, because there’s always a financial component to any of my daughter’s niceties. She threw in a bit about being OK financially, but could I send her this month’s installment of her birthday gift a little early as a buffer. Being a daughter “seer,” I pretty much had already started the transfer before she said the actual words.