I’m still unsure of myself in the Blogosphere so, as I write my posts I grab whomever is home to read them and look for errors. Also to make sure I’m not too far out-of-bounds (for the family at least…This still gives me a lot of leeway). So far they seem to like what I write. Since they are still mostly home, it’s usually one of the guys that get dragged into my enthusiasm to read before I publish or perish…

So one evening not so long ago my eldest came home after waiting tables. He’s tired and wants to hide in his personal cave. I hear him walk by my bedroom where I have my writing corner set up. I call his name “Come look at my post.”

“Aw Mom.”

“C’mon it’s a quick read. Help me out.”

“Really?” he says with suspicion as he walks down the hall towards the kitchen.

“Yes, I’m peer pressuring you to read my stuff.” At this point I’m following him with my laptop in tow. He’s trying to escape to the kitchen. Hint: Good place to trap a guy. Whether my guys are hungry or not, they always stop to look around to see what’s new in the food department.

“You can’t peer pressure me, you’re not my peer,” he replies absently.

“Ok then parental pressure.”

He straightens becoming thoughtful then, he shoots me a grin “No that’s guilt…What do you call someone higher on the societal scale….Authority? That’s it Authoritative Pressure!” He sticks his head back in the fridge. Quite a feat if you ask me since he’s six-three.

I chuckle thinking how I’ve grown over the years. I used to be uncomfortable with being an “authority figure;” a leftover from my baby boomer 70s upbringing. However, 21 years of being Mom has changed all of those notions. I have no qualms in using my Authoritative Pressure. I grin at the back of his head realizing my power as Mom.

“Alright, I’ll apply my authoritative pressure. Just read it.”

He pulls leftovers out, pops them into the microwave, and turns it on; “okay” he acquiesces with a gimme motion. I hand him the laptop. He reads. He smiles (That’s a good sign; at least he’s not frowning or scowling).

I hold my breath and busy myself in the kitchen. There’s always something to do in the kitchen. I don’t want to look over his shoulder. I hate it when people do that to me. I sneak a peek at him. He frowns. Uh oh. He taps the keyboard. Whew, he’s correcting something I tell myself. I turn back to the dishes. This is hard work.

In a few really long minutes he gets up from the table and says. “Looks good.” He gets his food and a fork then heads back to his personal space.

“Thanks.” I call to him. As I polish the writing and publish the post. I think I have become an AUTHORITY. Wow, I have authoritative pressure. As the “authority” goes to my head, I think I need to use this tool. I think of all the ways…wait…Aw shucks, better put that back in the tool box and be very very careful with it…I may need it someday.

Finish your week strong!

Milly