Boston.

So yesterday. After 25 consecutive years, and with 9 days to go until our baby leaves for the Army...

I quit parenting.

I put Ozzie in the car (because where I go, he goes), and we drove away.

I texted Andy and said, ""I'm gonna need all parental communication to go through you for a few hours. I'm headed out."

He said, "OK. Be safe."

I hit play on my "Boston" playlist. It is named after the first song by Augustana in which the lyrics go:

"I think I'll go to Boston, I think I'll start a new life
I think I'll start it over, where no one knows my name."

A friend once bought me a "Boston" sweatshirt for Christmas which no one in my family understood.

As it should be.

Because the Boston playlist is what I blast in the car when I'm running away from them.

A few people know this and when I send the "I'm outta here" text, and they respond with "Boston?"

Yep. On my way.

This playful exchange is so that I don't actually run away to Boston.

Because I do understand how mothers lose their ever-loving minds sometimes and could be lured away by a brand new life somewhere. Where no one knows their name.

It doesn't come into play too happen often. But a handful of times, like yesterday, it was the Boston playlist all the way to the beach with Ozzie.

The 4 of us remaining in this house are currently having all the feels and frustrations and tensions and internal emotional chaos.

The kids and I had pushed each other to my breaking point. I could not quite decipher if they were crazy or I was crazy. So I decided a tiny bit of space would be best for me to sort that out.

Andy had candy waiting for me when I got home. Because what else do you do when your partner quits parenting?? Kora wrote me a note, "Mom. It's enough. You did enough."

They knew to tread lightly because I don't "break" often enough probably.

But I was in a full internal panic.

And I think it's because this feels like an ending. But I thought endings were supposed to be conclusions or resolutions. Endings are supposed to be about finished products. Where I present my report, and it is done. I did my job. We worked out all the kinks. I was diligent and passionate about the work. I gave it everything I had. And I turned it in. Done.

The problem is that children, humans, are not projects. They are not to be presented to the world for a job approval rating. And much like their parents, they are never "done."

In addition, it turns out, this is a surefire way to break the connection with your beloved kids...making them feel them feel like they should be.

This one is hard for me because I don't like unfinishedness. I don't like it in me. I don't like it in my people. Their weaknesses and rough spots, as well as my own, keep me tossing and turning at night. I am constantly devising a plan to finish myself and them. A little tweak here, a little tweak there, and we should be OK.

What sort of clownery is this, Jody Landers?

I'm 45 and hardly resemble my 18 year old self. Thank. Goodness.

I have watched my launched kiddos continue to grow and mature and learn and develop beautifully outside of my controlled atmosphere. Turns out they are capable, not of avoiding heartache or pain or failure, but of dealing and coping and growing through it. What am I panicking about?!?

I liken it to the arc of a story that you learn in writing class. There is the introduction, the rising action, the climax, the falling action and the resolution. I love the good resolution that we get in books and movies.

I wanted it here.

Now.

In 9 days.

But my life and the lives of my people are not a story to be told from beginning to climax to resolution. The good work begun in them is not mine to finish or write. The "ending" is not something we see in this life.

Avot De Rabbi Natan says, "Do not be afraid of work that has no end."

We don't toil in parenting for the product. We don't work toward an "end." And we don't exasperate our kids to be finished becoming.

The work here for me is let go, keep supporting, keep cheering, keep toiling for my own development.

For it, too, has no end.

We're not writing stories here, we are being a fully human family.

So for now. I'm not in Boston.

But also for the next 9 days. Ask Dad.