Do Not Blow Kisses At The Bus Stop Mom

This is Napoleon enjoying the baseball game, it gets cold at night in the canyon. Thinking about a discussion I enjoyed about our children (for both of us our youngest becoming independant).
There comes a time when children tell you, "Mom don't be blowing kisses when you drop me off."
For my oldest, she wanted me to be a block away from anything that indicated babyness when she turned nine. My youngest has now reached the stage at fourteen where he no longer holds my hand. Fortunately he is still loving at home.
The friend's son told her last year, " Mom don't be using your funny voice to say Hi XXX (son's name) in public."
At what point do I stop advising my children to wear a sweatshirt or carry an umbrella because it is raining?

   I relate it to the characters in my writing. I am working on this novel, now renamed Lucky. The leading man, well he is a boy for most of the story, is a very disturbed guy. I have put him through the rings of fire and poked him until he now has all kinds of personality twitches. At what point do I let him go and say, I'm done?

   I still want to go back and re-edit works which are published. So many little quirks I missed. It is as if a writer is Doctor Frankenstien who is never satisfied with his work.

   This photograph I took last night of Napoleon. He is a pug, cheering our team, the Beavers ( yes really they chose the Oregon Beavers name horrible as that may sound to yell "Go Beavers"... I side track there). So is it O. K. to keep being a Mom to everyone around me?

   My son had three night games this week. It has been hectic keeping up with writing to my goal therefore this weekend I have piles of Thomas Moore Care of the Soul chores - gardening, laundry, taxes, errands... where will I find the time?