You might be the mom of a young adult if… 

When they call, you put them on speakerphone and hover around your cell like you’re a kid in the 1930s and they’re Little Orphan Annie.

Hearing their voice changes your whole day for the better, and if you close your eyes when you’re on the phone with them, it’s almost as if they’re right there with you.

You’re always counting down to the next time they come home for a visit. 

You have bite marks on your tongue from all the things you didn’t say.

Their college town or city of residence is one of your saved locations on your weather app.

You get alerts from Indeed for jobs in their field within a 25-mile radius of you.

Your favorite shirt is from a campus bookstore.

When they come home for the weekend, you make the special-occasion homemade cinnamon rolls, of course.

You sleep with your cell phone beside your bed, with the notifications on “just in case.”

You love it when people ask how they are. (And if they don’t ask, you are VERY skilled at working them into conversation.)

Their address is one of the saved shipping options on your Amazon account.

When they call to ask for cooking or home improvement tips, you drop everything to look up the requested recipe and text-bully your husband to mute his Zoom meeting to weigh in on which power drill to get.

When they move onto campus or into an apartment, you make up their bed, because it’s a little like still getting to tuck them in every night.

When you meet someone working in the same field as their desired career, you automatically network for them.

You stop whatever project you are in the middle of when they call to ask if you would mind going into the attic and getting out their stamp collection from fourth grade and mailing it to them for a grad school project.

You follow them online just to make sure you haven’t missed anything.

You keep a few key ingredients on hand just in case you can lure them to your table for a home-cooked meal.

Most of the time, a piece of your heart is across town, across the county, or across the globe. But that space is not empty, because it’s filled in by the piece of your big kid’s heart you carry with you all of the time.

by Elizabeth Spencer