I remember the moment that guilt hit me full-force. I was on my way to school one morning, driving down Fox Street, right across from Mario's (no, I don't think that the Mario's sign triggered my feelings of guilt, although it certainly should now, as my forty

extra pounds will attest to). It's not a feeling that I can describe really well, but every mother on the face of the earth knows what it's like. It's an anxious feeling, like you have to hurry up and do something, but it's a nameless, faceless, something that just makes you feel all that much more anxious. Well, at least it was for me, but I'm a bit of a spat anyway. There I was, leaving my kids again, and going off to, God forbid!, enjoy my day. To have a life that was, well, completely centered around me. To be an ADULT. To be surrounded by other ADULTS. Well, that's it - off with her head, apply the thumbscrews. How dare she not live and breathe every moment of her life for her children! What's wrong with her anyway?

I think it was at that moment, just when I was really working myself up into a tizzy, that reality struck me. One clarifying thought.

Were my children sitting in school all day worrying their little heads off wondering if they were psychologically damaging me for

life? No. They were living their lives, enjoying their friends, being people. Exactly, precisely, what I was castigating myself for doing.

I believe there was at least a moment of relief before the old devil's advocate kicked in. "Well, of course they're not worrying about you all day, they're kids. But you're the mom, your responsibilities are different. They NEED you." Had me there. Yes, they did need me. I think that that little ray of sunshine that I had experienced a few seconds before had felt too good, I wanted more. I asked myself, "But, did they actually need me every minute? Or was it fair not to think of them all the time?" (Other drivers used to get a real kick out of seeing me argue with myself.) It

was at that point that my checklist of sanity was born. I highly recommend it for all mothers.

1) Do my kids know that I love them? Did I show them today?

2) Do they have good food to eat, clean clothes to wear, and a warm, relatively clean home to live in?

3) Are they safe? Have I ensured their safety as best I can?

4) Are they pretty happy, well-adjusted kids?

If you can answer yes to those questions, you're doing pretty good. Actually, better than a lot of people. Fortunately, I answered yes

to those questions that day. I won't say that I never felt mother-guilt again, or that I didn't screw up at times. Boy, did I. But you know, it changed my relationship with my kids. I spent less time consumed with guilt, and a lot more time appreciating them as the independent people that they are. I could nurture them, and we could love each other and care about each other just fine without me spending every waking moment on alert. I liked it a lot better.

Did my kids survive this cavalier attitude of mine? This decadent, devil-may-care, bacchanalia of Mom-having-a- life? Yes. They did.

I have four sons. Three have come through the other side of ado-

lescence. One is just entering it. My oldest two have grown into hard-working, responsible young men. They live on their own and they do not sponge off their parents. My third son is coming out on the other side of a truly crazy bout of teen-aged insanity. Maturity

is beginning to rear its ugly head within him, too. My youngest still does homework without too much prodding and appears on the honor roll with enough frequency to bring out a grateful sigh of happiness from my depths. Nobody died, nobody went to prison (although a couple were taken there on field trips to knock some sense into their thick little skulls), and they still kiss their mom and dad goodnight when they're home. They're funny and fun to be with. They're smart, and at varying degrees, learning to develop that gift. Handsome - they're gorgeous! They have empathy in their hearts (some of their teachers may not believe this, I know my kids were merciless to you at times, but they really do). Yes, they survived, and in their own ways flourished.

Well, I didn't start out to write a mother's day column, but I guess

it sort of turned into one. Happy mother's day, moms. Hope this makes that guilt suitcase a little lighter today. And to my mom - love you, mom. Thanks for showing me how.