Now that my girls are grown, I've found there are fewer things to worry about. One of the biggies, which struck me just this morning, is that if I were to die, I don't have to worry about the guardianship of my daughters.
The morbid thought crossed my mind as I read a news article about Elizabeth Edwards doing all she can to keep her slimy, soon-to-be-ex husband's mistress from becoming step-mother and co-guardian of her young children, ages 12 and 10, once she dies. Seems poor Elizabeth's health has taken a slight turn for the worse so she's scrambling for legal ways to protect her kids, even going so far as to consider having her 28-year-old daughter raise the younger ones.
That's a pretty heavy load to lay on the 28-year-old. I couldn't imagine doing the same to Brianna, who's basically the same age. But with my kids all consecutive ages, that was never a consideration. No, I worried about who'd take in the trio -- who I would want to take in the trio -- if tragedy took me and Jim at the same time, leaving my girlies as orphans.
We did write up legal documents naming the person several years ago. It was about 15 years ago, just before Jim and I went skydiving. Although we rode in separate planes and jumped at separate times, being an overprotective crazy mama with an overactive imagination, I wasn't willing to take any chances. So we wrote up a will, primarily addressing the guardianship of our pre-teen daughters.
It was an unbelievably difficult choice to make. Jim and I have lots of family, lots of potential guardians to choose from. But some had very different parenting techniques that we didn't want to subject the girls to, others had such limited means and overwhelming stressors already that we didn't want to add three little girls to the mix. We eventually chose, but luckily it's now a moot point. Jim and I survived to see the girls become self-sufficient. We don't need to name anyone to care for our kids upon our death.
Whew! One less thing to worry about.
But wait -- now there's Bubby. Have Megan and Preston made a final decision on who will take care of him if tragedy were to strike? I know they've talked about it, gone back and forth on it, worried about it. But are there legal documents to guarantee their wishes will be honored? That I worry about.
And what about Brianna's kids? She'll likely get married soon, likely have kids soon after that. What will she and her husband choose to do?
And what about Andrea? Yeah, she's not even dating anyone right now. And, yeah, she's flat out told me she doesn't want kids. But you never know. She probably oughta start considering such things. Just in case.
Yes, I'm a worrier. I admit it. And now that I've thought it out, written it down, I guess there really isn't less to worry about as a I get older, there are just different things to worry about. The worry about my own children has now been replaced with worrying about my grandchildren ... and my granchildren-to-be.
There is indeed one less worry, though. At least I don't have to worry that my slimy, soon-to-be-ex husband's mistress will become step-mother and co-guardian of my young children.
It's unfortunate that Elizabeth Edwards, who has so many other worries at this time, wasn't afforded that same consideration.
Today's question:
What's one thing you used to worry about that you no longer do?
Mama starts the process.
Ta-dah! 
Mama loves her babies!
The little ones grow to be big ones ... FAST!
The last feeding before Mama tells them they're on their own.
The youngsters go it alone -- and do just fine! I know that mourning doves are really just glorified pigeons, but I think they're so darn cool -- especially since they like to nest just a few feet from my desk and were happy to pose for me each time I pointed the camera at them.
