Who Am I?

I was 18 when I had my first child. Still a baby myself, and by the time I turned 19 I found myself with yet another baby attached to my side. By the time I turned 30 I had a total of 5 kids. Do the math. I spent my entire adult life, you know the years when you're supposed to be living your best life, as a parent. Not that I am not a parent now, I am just in a different way.

First off let me tell you, raising 5 kids in stair step ages is hard enough. I seemed to always have one in diapers, one potty training, one going through the terrible twos, and later the I had 2 very moody teenagers at the same time. There was never a dull moment, and I longed for the day I could say they were grown and out of the house. I mean surly once they were adults and on their own, my own life could begin, right?

Wrong. Being a parent to adult children is a whole other complicated mess that some how our parent's forgot to tell us about. They come with a set of problems that is unique to adulthood, and some how we have to find the fine line between "I told you so" and "I know you can do this". Topped off by the being lost in your own identity crisis, it's enough to make a person go insane.

Yes, I said identity crisis. For 2 decades I was a mother, I attended field trips, went on scouting trips, sat through so many bad choir and band concerts I could cry, made holidays a big deal, planned trips based on kid friendly activities, I was the kool-aide house. Now at 46, I don't have a clue to who I am or what the hell I am even doing anymore. The house is entirely to quite, and because I live 14 hours away from all my adult children that also means that I don't get to see my grandkids on a regular basis. So I'm just here.

I laugh at my friends who say get a hobby, go live your best life now that your kid free, but what is that exactly? My life for so long was defined by the kids that I don't have the faintest idea what I like, or enjoy, or how to make adult friends, cause lets face it who had time for that when you were raising 5 kids? Now I would give anything for a house full of wild kids, or at least long enough to realize I don't miss it as much as I think do. My poor husband thinks I'm crazy, or depressed, his opinion on that varies from day to day, depending on whether I am freaking out cause the garbage is overflowing and its just the two of us and how can he not see it, or I'm crying cause I miss not knowing what to do with myself.

I suppose I should reveal in the fact that I raised productive adults, who have all graduated high school and are doing okay for themselves, but I find myself feeling selfish that I get mad they forget to call on my birthday or mother's day or more then once a month. I mean they are grown with kids of their own, they have lives, but suddenly I feel so unimportant, until of course they need something, or that unsolicited advise they look for with out saying they are looking for it. My second eldest daughter likes to use the phrase hypothetically speaking when she is looking for advice but doesn't want to come out and ask.

I wonder how my own mother felt when we were all grown and out of the house. Was she as lost as I am now or did she some how manage to find this mystical best life and live it out until her last days? Why didn't anyone tell me to make sure not to lose my own identity in the shuffle? More importantly can someone tell me exactly how the hell I'm supposed to find it?