If I'm Grown-Up Why Do I Feel Grounded???

When I got pregnant with Isaiah my mother was, naturally, pissed off. I was nineteen years old, I wasn't married, I should have been going to college. Any good mother would be upset. Any great mother would throw a bitch fit. (Right, mom?)

Of course, everything works itself out. We lived with my parents for a while before moving away and living in an 18-wheeler. (That is a whole other story.) Isaiah is healthy and happy and thriving. He is humorous and charming and generous. I am clearly doing a good job.

Getting pregnant with Josiah is a different story altogether. I was happily married, 25 years old, and usually financially stable. Josiah is a planned baby. Robert and I went to Sunriver, OR, left Isaiah with his Godmother, and went about the baby making process! That is, after all, the most fun part.

I had every intention of getting pregnant that weekend. In fact, I did. I started feeling nauseous while in Hawaii. It was not fun. My boob, just one boob, hurt like hell and certain smells would insult me. Robert was particularly irritating and everything made me overly emotional.

Here is the real kicker. I was afraid of my mother! What the hell. She is, as I said before, the epitome of working mother. She is corporate climber--not to be messed with. My brother in law said to my sister, "I would never want to cross your mom." Not only is he a grown person he is a BIG grown person. One would not want to cross him. That is how scary she can be! (No offense, mother.)

My hands started sweating. My heart starting racing. My intestines knotted and I felt moths start creeping all over my body. I felt like I did something wrong. I felt like she was going to ground me. Which is awkward in itself because at the time SHE LIVED UNDER MY ROOF! At any moment I knew she'd start saying, "No TV! No phone! No allowance! Not until you know the consequences of your actions!"

I asked myself over and over again, "If I am a grown up, if I pay my own rent, and I buy my own groceries, and I already have a child, then WHY DO I FEEL LIKE SHE'S GOING TO GROUND ME???"

This is a confusing time for any young mother. Why do we feel obligated to do what our parents want us to do when we, hopefully, have been living on our own for years? Why do I clean the house like a mad person before my parents visit? Why, when Robert is on his way home, do I feel the need to dust or put the dishes away? Isn't it my right, my right as a housewife, to live however it is that I want to live? Why do I care about what they think???

There is no real answer for this. I must be psychologically unbalanced. It must be the old-school Filipino way that has brought upon this wretched guilt. I am guilty of not living up to certain standards. I am guilty of not vacuuming and dusting. I am guilty of feeling like a child when my mother comes to call. That is whack. I should only be guilty of not giving a shit.