{"id":4590,"date":"2010-03-06T00:01:19","date_gmt":"2010-03-06T08:01:19","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/barbarafalconernewhall.com\/?p=4590"},"modified":"2010-03-06T00:01:19","modified_gmt":"2010-03-06T08:01:19","slug":"a-case-of-the-human-condition-how-do-i-mother-my-twenty-somethings-the-same-way-i-mothered-my-ten-year-olds-with-overkill","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/server.stagingweb3.net\/barbarafalconernewhall\/a-case-of-the-human-condition-how-do-i-mother-my-twenty-somethings-the-same-way-i-mothered-my-ten-year-olds-with-overkill\/","title":{"rendered":"When a Grown Daughter Doesn’t Call — Or, How to Overmother a Twenty-Something"},"content":{"rendered":"
\"Christina
Christina owns a cell phone — I’m sure of it. Here she is with one in a photo made after the Bay to Breakers race in 2010. Photos by BF Newhall.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

By Barbara Falconer Newhall<\/em><\/p>\n

Christina hadn’t called. We had dropped her at the airport hours ago. The flight to Burbank takes only seventy minutes. She should be home by now.<\/p>\n

But Jon and I still hadn’t gotten the, “I’m home. The plane didn’t crash. My roommate remembered to pick me up, and we didn’t get mugged in the garage,” phone call.<\/p>\n

It’s a phone call that we have come to need from our twenty-six-year-old, totally grown up, perfectly competent daughter.<\/p>\n

Days can go by — a full week can go by — without a peep from Christina. Not a problem. We live in the San Francisco Bay Area. She lives hundreds of miles away, in Southern California. She is off our radar.<\/p>\n

\"Southwest
Did she miss her plane? Did it crash?<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

Jon and I go about our lives like normal adults, working, shopping, cooking and kicking back after dinner to watch TV, Jon in the den with the latest episode of 24, <\/em>and me in the living room with House <\/em>reruns.<\/p>\n

But when Christina visits, or Peter, they are back in our lives in all their lovableness. My not-quite-extinguished mothering hormones – my overmothering hormones\u00a0 — kick in. So when Christina, or Peter, departs and I can’t be absolutely sure that my kid is totally safe, happy, and equipped with a sturdy umbrella and<\/em> 60-watt sunscreen – I start to wonder.<\/p>\n

The next thing you know, I’m dialing Christina’s cell phone.<\/p>\n

No answer. I finish clearing off\u00a0the dinner table and go to the living room to see if I can find a House<\/em> episode I haven’t seen.<\/p>\n

Half an hour later, Jon calls from the den. “Have we heard from Christina?”<\/p>\n

I wasn’t worried up till now. But if Jon is worried, I’m worried. I dial Christina again.<\/p>\n

Still no answer.<\/p>\n

It’s 10 p.m. Late, but not too late to phone Christina’s roommate. She won’t be in bed yet. I picture her sitting around the apartment playing with the cats, or eating popcorn and watching Ugly Betty<\/em>, or flossing her teeth.<\/p>\n

There’s no land line at Christina’s apartment, of course, so I look up her roommate’s cell number. I just happen to have it written down next to every phone in the house. Just in case.<\/p>\n

I dial.<\/p>\n

Christina’s roommate picks up. “Hello,” she whispers.<\/p>\n

“Hi. It’s Barbara, Christina’s mom. Is Christina home yet?”<\/p>\n

“I can’t talk now.” Roommate’s voice is muffled. Strained. Annoyed maybe. I hear voices in the background. “I’ll call you back,” she says. She hangs up.<\/p>\n

Later that night, a phone call from Christina. “I’m home. I’m trying to sleep. My cell phone battery ran out. Talk to you tomorrow.”<\/p>\n

\"\"
I found it.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

The next day: “Mom. Please don’t call my roommate like that. She was in a meeting when you called.”<\/p>\n

“You mean she wasn’t home, getting ready for bed?”<\/p>\n

“No. She was in a meeting. A business<\/em> meeting.”<\/p>\n

“Hmmm. How about if I get myself an iPhone — so next time I can just text her if I have to?”<\/p>\n

“Mom. You’ve got a life. I’m pretty sure you do. Why don’t you go downstairs to your writing room and look for it. I’m sure it’s down there somewhere.”<\/p>\n

I go downstairs.<\/p>\n

I sit at my desk. I am\u00a0surrounded by\u00a0two walls of\u00a0bookcases and\u00a0a serious bank of\u00a0file cabinets, both\u00a0overflowing with important stuff. My desk and parts of\u00a0the floor are covered with papers, three-by-five cards, unopened mail, thumb drives, half-read books, empty tea cups and coffee mugs —\u00a0important stuff all.<\/p>\n

And right in front of me, juicy story ideas jotted on sticky notes make a halo around my computer monitor. Whaddya know. Here it is. My life.<\/p>\n

I almost forgot.<\/p>\n

If you liked this story you might like “My Daughter the Trash Heap<\/a>.”<\/em><\/p><\/blockquote>\n


\n<\/strong><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

\"Christina<\/a><\/p>\n

Christina hadn’t called. We had dropped her at the airport hours ago. The flight to Burbank takes only seventy minutes. She should be home by now. But Jon and I still hadn’t gotten the, “I’m home. The plane didn’t crash. My roommate remembered to pick me up, and we didn’t get mugged in the garage,” phone call. Read more<\/a>.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":8470,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[10],"tags":[531,34,245,55,82,532],"class_list":["post-4590","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-a-case-of-the-human-condition","tag-adult-daughter","tag-dont-miss","tag-empty-nesters","tag-family-stories","tag-on-the-funny-side","tag-parenting-twenty-somethings"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/server.stagingweb3.net\/barbarafalconernewhall\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4590","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/server.stagingweb3.net\/barbarafalconernewhall\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/server.stagingweb3.net\/barbarafalconernewhall\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/server.stagingweb3.net\/barbarafalconernewhall\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/server.stagingweb3.net\/barbarafalconernewhall\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=4590"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"http:\/\/server.stagingweb3.net\/barbarafalconernewhall\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4590\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/server.stagingweb3.net\/barbarafalconernewhall\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/8470"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/server.stagingweb3.net\/barbarafalconernewhall\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=4590"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/server.stagingweb3.net\/barbarafalconernewhall\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=4590"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/server.stagingweb3.net\/barbarafalconernewhall\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=4590"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}