"Did you bring your gloves?" I found myself involuntarily asking my senior client the other day.
"It's really windy out today - don't get blown away!" I then blurted out without thinking that they are a grown-assed adult and don't need to be reminded about that!
Least of all from me!
I have never had children and am not a birth mother.
In my 20's I yearned for children, as one does when one's hormones are in peak form.
However, by the time I hit 30, I came to my senses.
I had a lovely little career in broadcasting going by that time and didn't want to put that on the shelf to have children.
A choice I have never regretted to this day.
My maternal instincts have been satisfied doting on numerous pets, however.
And more recently, some long repressed motherly instincts are rearing their lovely heads, and I find myself turning into my mother.
Something they say all women do, eventually.
In a good way.
And now, I find I am offering cautionary advice here and there, protective admonishments now and then, and reminders of all kinds that barely fall short of scolding.
I am not sure I like what I am hearing.
It is borderline nagging, I think.
Do I feel that my reminders need to be spoken?
Yes!
Do I feel that it is my inherent right and obligation to speak them out loud?
Yes!
I am not sure what is bringing out this side of me and I am not sure I like it.
I am pretty sure the recipients of my comments don't appreciate it.
Take hubby for example.
He's a grown assed man and is capable of making his own decisions and has taken good care of his own life choices.
However, I feel the involuntary need to ask if he's got his wallet, phone, glasses and keys every time he leaves the house.
Every time.
He impatiently reassures me that he indeed does have all of the above.
And he thankfully withholds any comments that he has to not keep asking him the above.
If he forgets something, he forgets something, right?
Why do I feel I have to intervene to help people when no help was asked?
To offer up reminders and such are surely not helping anyone.
In fact, it probably makes them irritable, to think that I think of them as a child.
A child who can't remember his own wallet.
I seem to have suddenly converted to an overly concerned, if not downright meddling, lady who seems to feel that the whole world would fall apart if she didn't interject her thoughts and questions to make sure everyone is taking care of themselves.
Is that latent motherhooding at its worst?
I don't know.
But the last thing I want to do is become a nag.
To harp and pester on about this and that and offer unnecessary reminders to grown adults who can indeed think for themselves.
I certainly don't ask my cats if they've used the litterbox today, if they've eaten enough, if they want to be brushed.
I consider them cognizant and "adult" enough to do those things on their own.
So why I feel the need to treat adult humans the way I am is a mystery.
I am starting to annoy even myself.
And so now, with this realization coming to light, and its real displeasure also coming to light, in both the recipient and in me, I will have to re-think what I blurt out before it gets said.
I will have to stop, take a breath, pause a beat, and just let the ether surround us while I keep mum (pardon the pun) and stay silent.
And try to allow others to make their own decisions without any motherly advice or suggestions from me.
Amum.