Sending My Baby Chicken To College

I woke her up this morning for the first time in years. We had wanted an early start, but now that it was time, I paused.

This is my baby.

I looked into her still-dark room and was unprepared for the sight of her lying on her bed sound asleep, snuggled up to her red baby blanket. Her room was packed and ready to go. She is 18 and leaving for college, and I am the only parent taking her. I feel alone. I want to share this moment-the excitement of such a bittersweet day- with someone who loves her as much as I do, with someone who remembers her first day of pre-school, her first lost tooth, her first homecoming dance.

This is my baby.

On her dresser is a series of pictures of the two of us, taken down from the wall. The cat had nonchalantly sat on the frame and broken the glass. The photos were covered with shattered bits, which is exactly how I feel right then. So excited for her, but all I could do was wonder why, why, why I had ever rushed a single part of our lives. Why did I want the terrible twos to be over? Bike rides? Braces?

This is my baby, and I walked in to wake her, so we could face the day together.

On Being a Mom When Your Smallest Chicken Is Going to College

Certain moments in a mom's life spark reflection. At first, these moments are so important that they get documented in a baby book- you know, baby's first smile, first steps, first words. As time goes on, day-to-day activities take over and only "bigger" things cause a mom to step back and take pause, like the first day of kindergarten (tears). Then sending a child to middle school. (tears, tears). High school graduation day comes along (tears, tears, tears), summer flies by, and suddenly one day you look at your calendar and realize that your smallest chicken is going to college in one week.









A week.









Oh no.









I don't think I'm ready.







I know from talking to my own mom that the strange feeling of being alone in the house (which incidentally I imagine will entail silent ghostlike wanderings down my hallways late at night) will fade within a few weeks, to be replaced by that feeling of freeeeeeeeeeedom which I had looked forward to for ages. In the meantime, I find myself reminiscing, looking at old photographs, wondering where the time has gone.









Kiss your little ones, as they won't stay little forever.

The Big Three-Eight

I started this blog to document my (odd) fear of turning 37. In less than a month, I will be 38. Did being 37 suck? Sometimes. Not a lot. I've had worse years, to tell the truth. Don't tell me that all of my angst was for nothing!

With thist post, I uploaded a picture of a bulletin board in my bedroom. It's getting crowded. It documents some of my best days/nights in my 37 years. I've added to it since this picture was taken, but looking at these photos every day reminds me of the fact that I have a wonderful life, full of good friends, close family, and happy memories. Now, I need to get out there and make more! Thank goodness I will not be 37 when I make them, cause really...I cannot wait to turn 38 and be done with being 37!!!! There really is something about the "7"s that freaks me out.....

Henna Fleur- de-Lis

Walking down Frenchman's Street in New Orleans, I finally found him.

Who, you may ask?

A man-an artist-who was freehanding henna tattoos. I sat down and in no time had a temporary fleur-de-lis on my back.

A conversation starter, I learned the next day.

It is hiding now under my t-shirt, but knowing it is there makes me smile.

Getting Excited

I'm heading to Paris with M & A this week- getting super excited all of a sudden! Then, of course, I saw the 7.5 hour flight time over and NINE hour flight time back! Eek! What is an old person to do on such a long flight? I could have given birth three times between Paris and Detroit!

Babies

I had lunch today with my friend, Erin. Erin currently works as a nanny. To our lunch, she brought Grace (5 months or so) and Jack (3).

I'm STILL tired.

Hats off to my sisters and brother, who are raising their little ones now. I have no idea how I could have raised babies if I hadn't done so when I was young! I get tired enough raising teenagers- but they don't (often) require middle of the night attention and you definitely don't get a backache carrying them to and from the car.

Kudos to all of the parents of little ones out there- and thank goodness I am not one of them anymore!

Aging

Enough already! This is getting completely ridiculous. I'm not talking about the physical side of aging- I'm getting used to that and have even started a list to share with my daughters of the first things they'll notice (first, little fine lines around your lips so your lipstick starts to run. Really!). I've decided to grow old gracefully and happily. BUT-

It's the rest of it. It's the whole "grownup" thing. People die when you're a grownup. Your children don't always do exactly what you want when you're a grownup and you just have to watch them make their own mistakes. Your own parents get older when you're a grownup. WHEN WILL THE MADNESS END?!