This year has been interesting for me as I have observed my social media feeds explode with status updates from a couple of different groups of friends that have, in their own way, led me to be at once sad, frustrated and envious.

One group is made up of sweet friends who are having new babies. I am thrilled to be friends with these younger women, but as a woman about to enter her fifties, I know it is practical to cool the fever that images of baby bumps inspire. The desire to snuggle a little morsel of powder-soft baby is strong, but I know I’m not going to regret leaving those years behind me.

The other group who is making social media a minefield for me are the ones whose children left the nest this year. Now, I know (for a fact) that the process is not always as easy as social media makes it look. I know that there are doubts and hiccups and kids who need a hearty kick in the pants to either get the college applications completed, the boxes packed, or just to stay in school. I get that. But these moms – or at least, the majority of them – are not communicating those bumps in the road. They are despondent about their children leaving home. There are tears and lonely evenings and heartsick posts about empty nests… and I simply don’t have these feelings. And it’s bugging me that I don’t.

I believe part of the reason that I am not feeling that loss must be rooted in the difficulty that I have experienced in preparing my oldest for life on her own. There were no middle-years for her as she went to college and learned how to take care of herself and manage expenses and such – she was a teenage mother who lived with us for two years after our granddaughter was born as she learned to parent. She has some very real anxiety issues to boot, and she simply has not experienced the same desire to spread her wings that most young people her age do. This has led to some impatience on our part, and a sense of relief, rather than regret, when it finally started to happen.

As difficult as it must be to watch kids leave and make their own way, I believe it must be just as difficult to experience the “failure to launch” scenario. Discussion after discussion about finances and responsibility are endured, words are said… soooooo mannyyyy wooorrdddsssss…. but until the grown child is fully embracing the idea of being independent, a parent’s suggestions and ultimatums and pleas are brushed off. The dear children become looming pieces of furniture like great aunt Mildred’s sideboard; can’t make it go away, but sometimes it’s a chore to keep it around.

As I struggle to help my daughter get on her feet, I have to remind myself of a few things to to keep from being too pushy, or not attentive enough.

1. I can’t fix her. I try to remember that my daughter’s anxiety is not my fault, not an excuse, and not something I can lecture away. When she needs support, I offer it. When she seems to be struggling, I make suggestions. But the reality is that more often than not, those suggestions are ignored. She is hearing them, I am confident, she just has to make some mistakes on her own and learn some (very difficult) lessons before they are implemented. Sympathy is not always easy to muster, but our children are grateful when we offer it, and chastisement and recrimination certainly don’t help.

2. When mistakes are made, I practice patience. This is definitely not the easiest thing to remember. When I am recalling all the discussions we have had after previous mistakes were made, it seems so much easier to fall into the trap of being a nag, to be angry that she is once again needing our assistance when she could have avoided the current situation if she’d simply listened to our advice!! But I try to keep in mind that she is much harder on herself than anyone else is. She is just starting to become more self-confident socially, and grinding her down to a nub when mistakes are made will not help her grow. I definitely struggle with this one, and it usually requires some chocolate and maybe a glass of good wine.

3. I set limits. This is the latest development in the parenting arsenal. We all know that toddlers need limits. And as they grow, our teenagers need curfews and house rules. They get jobs to learn how to manage their time and money. But once someone is “on their own”, we don’t consider this parenting step to be as important. Or, at least, I didn’t think of it. With my daughter, and others who are stumbling a bit before they achieve lift-off, limits are still vital. Limits on how often I can be asked to assist with childcare at the last minute, limits to the amount of money I will loan at one time and how long it can remain outstanding… limits on the number of serious mistakes that will be chalked up as “life experience”. I haven’t fully fleshed this one out, but I know it’s needed.

For me, the challenges that we experience with my daughter are not always easy, but they are part of who she is and how she is developing. I know that she will come out on the other side even stronger than she has already proven to be. I will choose to celebrate the crazy quilt of motherhood that guarantees that no one’s experience is exactly like the next person’s, and celebrate my friends’ joyous mother moments and sympathize as they miss their babies. My mother raised me to roll with the punches, and I certainly have learned to do that well. And I remind myself that I didn’t spread my wings until I was 25. Thanks for the lessons, mom. And the patience.