When did I become such a freak, a weirdo, you know the kind of person you want to stay away from? I was crushed when my 11-year-old said he didn’t want me to walk with him to school anymore. We have always walked to school, besides he’s my last one and elementary school will end in a month–no more walking with any one. We enjoyed being silent together. He would sometimes tell me things he wouldn’t talk about any other time. It was one of those sacred times I cherished. After walking him to school I would walk and think for about twenty to forty minutes. One of his classmates commented about his mom walking him to school. So it is the end of our paths converging in the morning minutes.
I am sad but I understand–Mamas are freaks and not cool. The harder we try to be cool the more freakish we become. Our weirdness must remain until our offspring have offspring of their own. Being normal is overrated anyway. I’m happiest when I’m slightly delusional; embracing my weirdness is the thrival tactic I choose. I am a mama freak and my children are embarrassed of me–that’s normal.