My children are not eligible for airline or Amtrak discount tickets, special ticket prices at movies or Kids Night on Broadway, discounts or free meals at Denny’s, I HOP or TGI Fridays.
Yet I can take them into any bar, buy them a beer, and they’ll never be carded.
How come? Because my children are in their 50s.
What the heck am I supposed to call them, my adult children? Adult children? Isn’t that an oxymoron?
Of course they frequently act like children. They whine and yell, have tantrums and throw things. After all, if you can’t lash out at your own mother, who are you going to?
I’ve spent many hours thinking what to call them. I must confess that sometimes the word Ungrateful appeals to me. Only kidding. LOL.
Rename them by size: Big children? Grown children? Full-blown children?
Refer to the Bible: My progeny, my descendants, my begats, my blessings?
By Brand: My products?
By Foods: My ripened ones, my seasoned ones?
By Magazines: My issues?
By Birds: My flock, my brood?
By Animals: My kids?
By TV and Cable shows: My spin-offs?
By my Hopes & Dreams: My marriageables, my learned ones, my prepared ones, my chips off the old block?
By their Hopes & Dreams: My heirs?
Don’t seem to work, do they?
Children outgrow childish things–clothes, toys, McDonald’s Happy Meals—and go on to discover sex, complicated relationships, and all the joys and hardships of life.
Yet we still call them children.
Maybe what’s wrong is that when we call them children, we treat them like children.
“Put your sweater on, dear, I’m cold,” I heard myself once say to my 53 year old daughter.
My friend Phyllis told me about a time when she and her husband Norman visited her 90 year old parents in Florida. At the early bird dinner, Phyllis’s mother pointed to Phyllis and Norman and said to her husband and friends, “Let the children sit by me.” Phyllis and Norman were then each in their 70s.
To a 90 year old woman, her 70 year old daughter is still her baby.
Whatever we call them, however old they are–my children, your children–will always be our children (except on those days when they say or do things that make us doubt we’re related).
You’re just a button click away– and I’d love to hear from you.
About your world, your family, your joys and frustrations, growing up, growing older, even recipes–even though I stopped cooking–by request–years ago.
Goodbye until next time…
Hope your day turns out as well as I hope
(but doubt) mine will,
Gingy (Ilene)
Gingy,
I can relate to your words. We need to be strong at times and we are but inside we feel everything that’s why we can express ourselves thru writing or art and get it out and hopefully help others who are also going thru the same thing. Without my Art expression I would be lost as well as my writing and keeping in touch with friends and family, it’s the way I truly communicate. Always have and always will.
To sit down and just let it flow out without any stoppages is my therapy as well as
Who I truly am.
Love hugs,
Arlyne
Arlyne,
I’ve lost my mind many times.
G.
Hi G,
OH..What a day!
I misplaced something I found and then lost again I retraced my steps and then took a break from looking for it. Spoke to a friend and she told me to do it again and don’t forget to look thru the garbage. I followed her directions and then looked Thru the garbage, luckily what I was looking for was not covered with wet garbage. This behavior is nothing new to me I’m always looking for something. I have a patient partner who stays out of my way when I’m being a pirate looking for misplaced items. He also looses things that are right in front of him like his glasses. He said he needs his glasses to find his glasses, that’s where I come to help him. I’m sure all of you have your stories and solutions to keeping your stuff organized and right where you need them when you need them, good for you.
My essentials are in my backpack and the rest of my stuff I don’t need them right now.
Lov ya,
Bet your organized G.
I just got back from vacation with my 34 year old child, suzy.
She is saying everything to me that I said to her in her formative years.
She said that we have role reversed.
I told her that she is the fun police. She admonishes me for eating badly,
drinking, and not exercising enough.
I might not take her next time.
G,
Me too. Always loved the song also, from Paint Your Wagon. My roommate in college said if she had a girl she would call her Mariah but she had two boys instead. My daughter Mariah had a name like me where people would mis-pronounce it and she would have to say “My name isn’t Maria it’s Mariah”! I would say “My name isn’t Arlene, it’s Arlyne”! Then with some folks I knew I would see again , I would tell them how my parents chose my name. There were two Lynes in our neighborhood, so they called me Our Lyne..and spelled it Arlyne.
I still have friends from High school that call me Arlene, I guess I never told them the story of how I got my name, maybe I should.
Hugs..
I’ve always loved the name Mariah. xo
G,
Ahh July finally. Living in the woods has its beauty as well as its pests, like
Mosquitoes. A couple of remedies we have found that work. Peppermint, Citronella, essence oil in distilled water in a spray bottle. Also white sage burns
And helps those pesky skeeters. For you women that will be out in the woods camping under the stars, it’s natural and it works to keep from being bit. We haven’t been bit once. We spray on our clothes as well as exposed arms and legs,
Neck area and even on your hair.
If you haven’t heard there will be a total eclipse on August 21st another summer happening this year. My daughter calls me Mommaroonies. Her best friend made it up with her. Her best friend Dayna died and she still calls me that name and I love it.
I named my daughter Mariah like the wind and when we get together I sing that song to her. Even though there was no wind when she was born. In fact, the air conditioners broke and it was stuffy and hot in the small hospital. When she arrived into my arms I knew my life had changed for the better.
May your summer bring you smiles and new memories and may you seek others that will listen truly listen to you and may you find solace in walking in nature.
Peace & Hugs,
Arlyne
G,
You might enjoy this one as well as the other women who blog here.
One day in the past last year, I was going into town and do some errands and my partner happened to say, “what happened to your left eyebrow”. I went into the only mirror in the house which is in the bathroom and I looked and there it was “1/2 an eyebrow”. My first thought was of my Aunt LuLu who used to use eyebrow liner on her eyebrows and I began to think…will I have to start doing this now?
I never had to do anything with my eyebrows before except pluck them when they needed it. They were so light like my hair but now the time has changed and I’m in my Sixities and I guess I’m in that zone where if you have half an eyebrow you better have a pencil nearby.
Hugs!
Arlyne
P.S. Has this ever happened to anyone?
Yo Girlfriend;
Mine are 53, 55, and 57. I refer to them s “the kids” and their progeny “the grandkids”. They always respond when food or money is part if the quotient.
Keep ’em coming girl, they cheer meyup.
Your camp Cejwin bunkmte
I’m lucky – I just have two daughters, so size works – older and younger – but “begats” and “spin-offs” are funnier.
Thanks for the chance today to laugh.
How true!!! But how the tables have been turned…. now we have to let the “kids” know that we have returned from wherever we might have gone, especially if it is at at night, or a trip, and when we travel we have to let them know where we are every night ( car trips only). Now that we have a lot in common with them, we tell them, we can be friends….after all we are all members of AARP!
What a great blog, Ginny.
I refer to mine officially as Offspring, but I’ve always hoped “loin fruit” would catch on. Sadly, he heard me trying it out one day and lost his shit… and since I still really wanted him to bake me some goddamned cookies later, I had to agree to let that one go.
Love it, so true, so funny and witty…puts a smile on my face! Keep going, it’s a wonderful life and blog!
Hi Ginny, your mentioning my quote made me laugh. It brought back warm memories. Adult. children who have old parents, like us, are lucky. We get to see our parents as human beings with strengths and weakness. And we have the unconditional love of our parent! I have probably said too much! Love, Phyllis
You did it again. Funny.
Did you forget “offspring?” Kind of neutral yes?? Keep in mind that although we are stuck with them (sometimes joyously) they are also stuck with us. I’m at the age where I am trying not to embarrass them in front of their friends. How sad is that.
never thought of all this..i call them my children my kids and that is crazy … maybe “spinoffs” ….
My grown married daughter: “Angel Pie” (She claims she outgrew “Duckie”.)
My grown married son: “Little fellow” (He claims he outgrew “Magic Moppet”.)
Boy, does this ring a bell. I am 66 now, but when I was 60, Dad was still calling me “kid”. When I told him he could stop, he said I would always be his “kid” no mater what. Today, at 66, he is still calling me kid–and my husband too…’Adult children’ is definitely an oxymoron, but the English language does not have a word for this stage, though you have offered many suggestions in your blog. I call my 33 (and married) and 29 year old ‘boys’ (there’s another one) kids as well as sons, so I am just as guilty. Maybe you should start a contest to coin a new word for adult children…chidults? lol
This post is AWESOME!
Wonderful. I adored it. Hope you are well dear Gingy. Hugs.
Hi Gingy,
One day before Summer Solstice! Have a Beautiful Relaxing Summer!
Funny that this subject came up. My daughter wasn’t feeling well last week and even though we message on Facebook and txt on the phone, I rarely call but for some reason I felt an urgency to call her and she was so happy I did. She told me she wasn’t feeling well and she was recalling all the things I had done for her when she was a child when she was sick. I asked her if she needed me to come over and take care of her or my grandson and she said that her husband was home. We spoke some more and then I told her that she would always be my baby no matter how old she was. I could feel she needed to hear that. So, no matter how old your children are and how old you are, there will always be that special connection of shared memories that you both hold unto.
Love your friend,
Arlyne