I'm forever hearing stories of kids who think their mothers are unfair, cruel and judgemental and I'd have to agree with a few of them. Some mothers just want their children to grow up so they can shove them out of their nests and be done with them. They don't seem to care that their child is emotionally wrecked or physically hurting, they just want them to leave. In my fifty (plus) years of life I've seen more hurt, guilt and blood than most mothers see in ninety.

I saw the hurt in the eyes of my baby boy when he and his Girlfriend split up for the last time, I felt the guilt that he felt for cheating on her and I silently mopped up the blood that pooled up on the floor when he took that razorblade to his wrists.

Mother's also see the things that even their children's best friends don't see. I saw the regret in my eldest's eyes when he told his friends he was getting married, I saw his heart break right through his chest when his best friend turned around and walked away from him and I saw the red, subtle hand print on the side of his face when he came back from consoling his friend.

My sons were who I woke up for every morning, worked 10 hours a day for, and cooked for every night, for 30 years.

The only things I love as much as my sons are their friends who were like extra, bonus children to me. Being around them almost 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, I got very close to them, and I mothered my way into their lives as well.

I saw the casual flirting amongst themselves, I heard the soft whimpers and moans from down the hall, I felt the tension and frustration when they would fight with each other and I could smell the bullshit lies they told each other about their lastest conquests with women.

Now, I'm not saying they've never been with women, believe me I've heard those moans as well, but rarely were they ever happy when they were with a girl. It was their friends who could bring them true happiness; the way they would interact with each other was almost mesmerizing.

One would tell a story about the other that made no sense, the next would elaborate, the next would laugh, not knowing what was going on, and soon they were all laughing with each other, not even sure why. Everytime one would start telling a story that involved a woman, their eyes would glaze over and the fake smiles and half-hearted chuckling would commence.

As a mother, I'm used to comforting all of my children, whether they've got a skinned knee, snapped wrist or a broken heart. Lately, it's been the latter that I've had to deal with.

Jenn and Bam split up after all these years, Jess and DiCo's friendship nearly ended completely, causing DiCo to run to Raab for all his problems, Bam and Ryan got into it so badly that Ryan left leaving Bam to lean on Novak, of all people, for support, comfort and release. These kinds of things will break a mother's heart, especially when you've known your kids' friend, almost as long as you've known your own children, and you know the world of good that has come to be since they've been friends.

I may have been the one everyone came to for advice and I may have been the only one that knew everything without knowing anything, but after watching all of my babies have they're hearts broken by each other, I realize there's no way I can fix it and that I'm powerless.

You see, being a mother gives you power, you're the boss and that's the way it goes. You know everything (until they become teenagers) and you know all the answers to life's problems but then, something like this happens and you're at a loss. No matter what you say or do, they're still miserable and broken and nothing breaks a mother's heart like not being able to help your children when they need you the most.

I guess that's life though, hm? First, we're needed and depended on, then we're the chauffer, then the personal chef and butler, then we're their closest confidant and then we are powerless and unuseful.

But I just sit here, keeping my mouth closed and my ears open, hoping for one of them to come talk to me; to tell me what's really on their mind, and then ask 'What Should I Do?'. Maybe they just think I'm judgemental, cruel or unfair; or maybe I'm a combination of all three. I'll never know, I suppose.