There's nothing quite like a mother to produce the reality check that's been lurking around the corner for some time. I mean, you like to think that you're doing well with your life, that you're accomplishing your goals, that you're completely satisfied witht the way things are...Yeah, right. Mothers - my mother, anyway - punch through that self-imposed illusion like Superman punching through a wall of red jello.
No, she's not looking for me to produce grandkids. No, she's not getting all over me about finishing college. All she wants me to do is be all I can be.
No. She doesn't want me to enter the military.
She wants me to get in shape, lose my excess weight, take responsibility for my own health, become more autonomous, and set and accomplish real and reasonable goals. All she really wants of me is my maturity.
That's a reality check for anyone of any age. For myself, at the age of 23, it seems doable, but still scary as all get out. Still, it's what I need; I guess good mothers never stop knowing what we need.
Thanks, Mom.
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