What makes mums happy

It drives mothers crazy: organising holidays with teenagers. At least, that's the fear of anyone who has bounced off the defensive wall of uncommitment for the umpteenth time, behind which teenagers disappear with the onset of puberty. Penetrating this wall of defence is almost impossible - or at least an art that I have not yet mastered.

Do I say: I would like to go hiking in the summer - will you come with me? They say: Hm, yeah, I don't know yet. Maybe I'll go to Ticino with my colleagues, let's see. Maybe, but if I do, then only from Tuesday afternoon to Friday morning. And if it rains, I don't give a shit.

I mean: I get it. It's the age when it feels like nothing ever happens - but anything could happen at any time. When a question asked in spring about plans for autumn seems as absurd as a question about plans for the next reincarnation. Perhaps because in this phase of life you are actually born as a new personality - and this is also suggested by new styles and hairstyles.

People who love want to share first and foremost, especially when they experience something beautiful.

But with all due respect for the innovative energy of adolescents, even geniuses have office hours and holidays need to be planned. At least if you want to spend them as a family. So at some point I said to my teenagers: my partner and I will spend holiday week two at our house by the lake and holiday week three by the sea. Are you in? Just let me know soon enough.

The daughter cancelled. The seventeen-year-old said: Jo, I don't know, let's see. And then: I'll stay at home. So my partner and I travelled alone. We had to flee from the floods, but we had a wonderful holiday by the sea.

We embarked on a road trip as if we were teenagers, letting ourselves drift and travelling to wherever it was nice and the sun was shining. Perfect, just the way it works as a couple but would fail as a family.

But then there is the matter of the invisible umbilical cord that connects us to our children, big or small. You miss them, no matter how annoying they are sometimes. Those who love want to share first and foremost, especially when they experience something beautiful.

This gives the pleasure that cannot be shared a slightly melancholic flavour - like the drop of Angostura in the Negroni. With every new day that dawned over the sea, every swim in the sea and walk on the beach, I thought: if only they could experience this too. I wonder how they feel at home in the rain. Wouldn't the little one feel a bit alone now? Should I have forced him to come with me? But he's already 17! Am I a bad mum?

Oh, the dear children, they are already young adults. With their own plans and goals. In the best case scenario, the little one had a great time alone at home. And otherwise he may have learnt a lesson.

During my last phone call home from the holidays, he said: «You've wanted to go on a city break with me for a long time, haven't you? I've now changed my mind. Let's do it this autumn.» That makes a mum happy.