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Kids no more confuse Mommy, Mammy, Mimi, Momo, Memaw, Meme, or Moo moo than they do Timmy, Tammy, Tommy and upset tummy. I give kids a lot more credit than that. They can even keep their grandparents straight when both grandmothers are called Grammy, and both Grandfathers are called Grampa, like mine were. Kids just assign the names we give them, without any meaning or sentiment attached.  My GS would call me Cow Patty with a straight face if that's what he was told to call me.

But even I think little mommy is a bit much.

I think Footloose was referring to her son, not you.

When he calls I would tell him I'm concerned about him because he seems so unhappy and ask him if he thinks he might be suffering from depression. There's nothing you can do if he thinks he's fine, but if he responds to the suggestion, you could have a list of numbers ready. Long ago I had no money and was suffering from depression and I found help through Catholic Charities. You don't have to be Catholic to use their services and they have a sliding scale fee. I think I paid five dollars a visit and between the medication and counseling, it really pulled me out of the quicksand.

Even though you can't have him live with you, there are other ways you can help on your own terms. Offer to give him a ride to appointments, or job interviews. Offer to help him write a resume or look for job openings. I don't know what kind of boundaries you have, and these are just suggestions and may not work for you. It just seems like you need to find a way to help him that won't hurt you in order to feel better.

After all is said and done though, if he won't help himself, there's nothing you can do. It is so heartbreaking to watch someone you love struggle and suffer. I hope it all works out.

What if knowing that living with you is not an option is part of the puzzle for him?

What if you not finding any options for him is another part of his puzzle?

If he is as brilliant as you say, he will find his own way when he has no other options.

I know you want to help him, but what if helping him isn't helping him help himself?

And what if what he needs is to help himself?

I hope that makes sense.

I have to echo that they don't want this stuff. The sentiments attached to these items are ours, not theirs. To them it's just old stuff.

I saved the darling handmade stuff my children had, and for 6 there was a lot of stuff. Turned out that in the end nobody wanted any of it. I would have had an entire closet shelf all those years if I had given it to Goodwill. DARN!

I know what you mean though. Right now there is a cute teddy bear in my DS's former closet that was given to him at birth and embroidered by family friends. Do you think I can get rid of it?

To say I'm much better is an understatement. I came here after googling My Son Hates Me in a state of utter despondency.

After hearing what sanity, and strength, and loving detachment sounds like here, I am so much more ok with my complete estrangement from my DS. I have learned a lot from the Wise Women here.

Several months ago I came here and I was at a 2 maybe. I questioned the purpose of going on. I felt like a loser. Now I have days that are 10. My bad days are usually triggered by some new information, but I refuse to go lower than a 6 anymore. Just knowing I'm not alone has meant the world to me. I thank you Luise and every member here and so does my DH.

I vote for the sock idea.

Lilly, turnabout is fair play. You're awesome.

You're a fake mother? How'd you pull that off? haha

It certainly helps that the remainder of your AC are normal.

Best way to explain the odd one is something I read recently somewhere, "Sometimes you just get a lemon."

I admire you being able to laugh it off. I'm going to the wedding and I'll paint a smile on my face with my red lipstick if that's what it takes. 

Wecome Reba.

Failed is a strong word.

I think more and more that our children grow up to be who they are and not who we raise them to be. Sometimes when they grow up to be the kind of person we approve of, we think we succeeded, but it's really just a coincidence. When they grow up to be rotten, we think we failed. But how do you explain why some kids turn out great and others rotten when you raised them all the same?

So even though my youngest son is being hateful and rejects me and believes terrible things about me, I don't feel like I failed to make him the person I thought he could be, because I have 5 others who are growing up ok. I just feel like he's on a rough journey and I need to get the heck out of his way or I'm going to get knocked down. Ok I already got knocked down, but I'm a fast learner. Staying away from him has been sad for me, but it's my new job as his mother. My job now is to take care of myself, so that if he ever does come around I'll be in a good place to reconcile, and if he doesn't, I won't have wasted years being unhappy. My job is to let him grow up.

My goal is to let him go with love and without rancor and try to remember what it is I love about him. My goal is to forgive his youthful arrogance, stubbornness and meanness and remember that he is a victim as much as I. My goal is to be patient and let time do its thing.

Thanks for letting me babble.

I'm very glad that I did not ask any of my other children to speak up for me. Thank you each one for steering me in this direction. Thank you for helping me see that this is the wisest course of action.  Now I actually can't believe I was really considering it. Just goes to show how crazy making it can all be.

My youngest son's rejection of me has nothing to do with me. I believe that. I know I am not the monster he wants to see me as. His accusations against me are false. Trumped up charges invented by his delusional father. There is no truth in any of this. Therefore, there is no logical reason for his opinion to hurt me. So why does it? I want to find the part of me that refuses to be logical and keeps on feeling the hurt and extract it, like a tonsil.

I'm going to go to the wedding expecting it to be nowhere near as bad or painful as I have been imagining. I'm going to use my Crest white strips and smile till my face hurts. I'm going to dance with my son and my grandson and my handsome husband, eat my cupcake, drink a toast to the happy couple, and leave with my dignity. I'm going to find that special piece of jewelry and know that you will all be there with me in spirit ....

Agree Lilly.

If I die first, my husband gets everything. If he goes first I'll drown my sorrows in Kahlua drinks until I spend the last farthing and then I'll throw myself off a mountain top like Chief Chocorua.

Doe this is how I imagine that conversation going,

DS: You were a lousy mother.
Me: I agree. You turned out rotten.
DS: I'm not saying that. I turned out fine in spite of you.
Me: So what's your problem?

I like the Richard Nixon peace sign idea. I think I'll start growing out my armpits for the occasion.

There are so few people in this world we can trust that we feel we can't afford to lose even one. I understand your loss.

Not to compare this to your loss, but when I learned Fred Rogers died I bawled my eyes out.