Mothers minding their own business?

It’s around 4am on Boxing Day 2009 and we are about to drive to Noosa this morning to spend our holiday at one of Australia’s most beautiful beach holiday destinations. And as I sit here to type to you before we leave in downtown Bris Vegas it is pouring with rain outside as dawn tries to break through the heavy cloud. It's lovely to hear Mother Earth being given a big drink but the need to pack extra indoor card and board games is now my best mother, wife move.

I was lying in bed this morning contemplating the next few days ahead in our beachside holiday unit as my two sons the youngest Little Chicken aged 21 and his older brother aged 22, who I have always loving called my Big Chicken and I do mean big he is six foot eight inches in height and a drummer in their band, so he is a huge Peter Garrett like man on stage with a powerful presence.

Little Chicken is no shrinking violet either, as I just recently watched him channel a cross between Mick Jagger and Michael Hutchence as the lead singer, song writer and guitarist in their band on stage. They were finalists in a competition where over 2000 young Australian bands entered. My boys and their two mates took away first prize in a Sydney pub that includes now as a part of their prize package a national tour with other international bands early in 2010, so I will keep you posted on motherhood from the mosh pit. Little Chicken is not so little standing at six foot five, please excuse me .... I grew up with feet and inches and haven’t got a bloody clue what his height is in cm's at this early hour of the morning. I am unapologetically a dinosaur when it comes to computers, cameras, IPods and the metric system.

My boys are bringing their gorgeous girlfriends up to Noosa, so this is a family first for me. Being a mother that has only ever had sons it is a refreshing change to have female back up at the dinner table I can tell you. It also however brings a new dynamic for me as I learn the new dance steps to those unique moves where a Mother as an in-law on trainer wheels must finally master when to mind her own business and step back, but not relinquish her role as the Matriarch and elder that models respectful relationships and compassionate support when required.

I noticed myself yesterday on Christmas day deliberately reigning myself in from making a comment to Little Chicken about where he was going to put the receipt I had given him for an exchange on a shirt that Santa had bought him. The shirt was black, a good cut, the right size and by a designer he likes, and would look good with skinny jeans, I thought I was safe, but it was a ‘close but no cigar’ situation in the fashion stakes with my most discernably stylish youngest son. I am however, so grateful that we are all free in our family to be gently honest with each other with gifts and I have promoted the eradication over the years of that sickly sweet need to people please, with the "Oh yes I love it crapola". However when he put the receipt in a place that a mother would not.... I remembered my wise tutor Mr. Delicious (my husband) and past situations where he would gently and quietly pull me aside and say to me "Sweetheart he is a grown man, leave him be". I am not a slow learner more a quick forgetter, but I did not forget this time, and minded my own business and let him be.

I was most grateful that Little Chickens girl gave me a warm smile as she saw the expression on my face as I swallowed my words like swallowing bitter medicine, when he casually took the receipt and put it amongst his disorganised Christmas stash. I am sure she could hear my thoughts but being the intuitive and wise young woman she is who knows him well she also said nothing. I have a great deal to learn from Generation Y. I observed her throughout the hectic day with new people she had never met before amongst the shrieking card games, cheeky discussions, Christmas Chivas, baby cuddling, turkey and ham carving and the 5 hour long feast, that she held her own with grace and humour.

I look forward to learning from these young women over the next few days as it has been many years since I was in my early twenties and it seems to me this next generation of women have evolved in ways I certainly had not mastered in these early years of womanhood.

The rain has stopped so I will go and get packing and look forward to sharing my holiday adventures as this year draws to a close and we welcome in a new one.

So for a recovering Smother Mother the Word Vitamins I need to take today and are happy to share with you follow below.

"Your children are not your children. They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself. They came through you but not for you, and though they are with you, yet they belong not to you."   Kahil Gibran