I just read where The Hiccup Girl has run away apparently in a dispute with her stepfather who just discovered her My Space account. The parents took away her cell phone so she took off.

We had a similar situation where my 16 year old ran away for a week. She’d tried to sneak out one night, her consequence was losing her cell phone and a week later, with full blown PMS coursing through her veins, turning her into an unrecognizable teenage mutant drama queen, she slugged a younger sister over cake mix and fled.

I know another family, sending all three of their very intelligent children to private schools only to celebrate the 18th birthday of a daughter, a high school senior, who then pushed herself away from the table after dessert and informed her stunned parents, “I’m 18 now, I’m moving out.” And she did so, breaking their hearts, moving in with some less than desirable characters, but thankfully she did finish high school on her own.

There’d been earlier friction over dating choices as the parents were naturally alarmed at the thuggish behavior of some of her dates.

So if parents step up to the plate and correct or punish poor behavior, the teens think they are justified in running away? Hmm, does not compute.

After seeing some My Space pages of 15 and 16 years old, I put my foot down and refused this option for any of my kids. I don’t care if I’m old-fashioned and standing in their way of being cool and socially connected, I prefer to think that I’m keeping them safe from themselves. The hussy behavior on those pages was shocking; the poses way past provocative and the suggestive language was appalling.

Sandra posted about us older moms being the happiest, and I totally agree with her. What once would have sent me through the roof, now barely results in more than a nod and a comment from me. I’m not even going to go bonkers over runaways. I know they’ll come back. I’m happiest now, at almost 53, because I’m so comfortable with myself. Insecurities don’t exist in my head, I don’t feel the need to compare myself to anyone nor compete over anything, as I absolutely love my life.

I’m where I am right now due to every single choice, good or bad, that I ever made in my life.

I’d also read about a pill to delay menopause so that we can birth children later in life. No thank you. I'd rather birth a herd of goats at this point in my journey.

Older adopted children, struggling with all their conflicted emotions and self-identity explorations, seem to be absolutely raring for a fight with me. I’ve seen them pick a fight on their 18th birthday. I’ve seen them deliberately disobey me so that I’d have to correct them, reason enough in their minds to bolt. “Hateful ole $%^&,” they’ll mutter on their way out the door only to return months later with apologies. Rejecting me before I reject them, because in their minds, that’s what happens.

Eventually they discover that nothing has changed, they’re still my kids and life goes on. My advanced age has, at least, taught me patience to weather all these storms.

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