We all know that mothers have an important job and we put in a lot time, work, and dedication. There are all kinds of mothers and everyone has one—it’s the most common denominator we all share. Being a mother of three has been a rollercoaster of a ride so far—thrilling, scary, and fun. Like with all parents, I want the best for my kids and hope they go off on their own one day to live happy, healthy lives. That time came for me last week with child #2—the first to fly from the nest. And just like the first day of kindergarten where mom is tearfully dropping their kid off at school, I tearfully did the same when my son left for the Army basic training.
He swore in on October 1st with a ship date of November 13th. The excitement was overwhelming at first and then it turned to anxiety—but in a good way, if there is such a thing. I really only know what I’ve seen in movies and hearsay from others about boot camp. I understand the process of “breaking” the enlisted recruit and then building them back up again. This is why the process is tough and training can be grueling, but necessary nonetheless. However, this was MY son venturing into that atmosphere. The thought of breaking his spirit was distressing. The thought of breaking his bad habits…well, that didn’t worry me so much.
He is the one who could literally sleep all day and would now have to get up at 5 am. The one who would sleep on a bare mattress rather than put on sheets would now have to make his bed every single day. The one found in the kitchen quietly making a quesadilla at midnight would now have to eat when scheduled. He is the very one who averaged a thirty-minute saunter to a high school that was only a ten-minute walk away—and he will now be running miles. In short, whatever discipline is called for in basic training, he was the polar opposite.
The remarkable thing is that he knew he needed the discipline and challenge. That alone makes me a very proud mom. He recognized the qualities of becoming a solder and what it would do for him. This was about realizing that life needs direction, even if you aren’t sure which way you’re going—you need to keep moving. He talked the talk all day long about his future, but now he was actually doing something about it.
It’s been a week since I said good-bye, with only a brief phone call to say he arrived safely. My thoughts are filled with how he’s adjusting to his new life, even though I understand he really hasn’t begun training yet. It’s the getting up and moving about with the rest of us day-walkers that he has to get accustomed to. And, he knows he will have to bury his sarcasm (yes, that’s from me), his smirk (probably from me too), and joking his way out of confrontation (yea, there’s a pattern here). For the most part, I can empathize with what he’s going through. The drill instructors do too, but they couldn’t care less about what his feelings are about getting up early or training—and they certainly don’t tolerate sassiness or dickering on how the day is structured. They have a job to do and know what it takes to get it done. They have a solder to make.
I have some basic training of my own to do during this time as I know my job parenting is done. I’ll always be his mother, but I understand that this is a new chapter in HIS life— and I will let him be the adult that he is. There is no need to interject my opinions and advice about his choices without him asking. I will be encouraging and listen with interest to what he’s willing to share. I will learn more about the intricate nature of the Army and all its terminology. And, I will write letters even though they will probably outnumber his ten-to-one.
In short, I will be here knowing he is doing what he needs to do with his life. He knows he has my support, love, and encouragement—and care packages…the boy man is going to need his chocolate.
HOOAH!
Desirée 
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