I worry about my daughter who is still in the states. She is there for vacation and some thesis research. It’s natural for a mom to worry especially if she finds out that her daughter’s housing is unpredictable and her money resources are slowly dwindling off. I keep telling her to move to my sister’s place in the suburbs of San Francisco but all she says is I have to learn to start living in the real world.
Yes, she is right. She is an adult and needs to learn to solve her dilemma.
Being the protective mother, I can’t help feeling disappointed that her original housing plan did not materialize. I feel like calling my bitch powers and spew out a tirade of tongue-lashing at the person causing her discomfort and misery. I check myself and remember that my daughter is not a little child. She is not the little girl that I use to place a band-aid on her knee. She can fight her battles. . The ““band-aid” she needs is just within her reach.
It really bugged me that things didn’t work out as planned.