The Momentus Move

She packed her bags last night pre flight...zero hour nine am...(that's elton john for you who are lost)

Last first day of school photo or something like that...hugging the doggies goodbye....

Many hours later, arriving at school number 1.. in the rain

Au takes charge and starts unpacking

Getting the loft in place and all the pieces put together....

saying goodbye and trying not to cry

And now college #2.....what a nice bed!

Psyche this is the boss's house at the beach...

the little room overlooking the marsh........

a long day of travel means we need to relax at the beach...so warm like bath water

alas time to move in..."Mom stop taking photos and carry the stuff!!"

Here's my door - can I open it....

We've dumped the stuff...now to organize it...

Sammy is the best friend ever - drove 1400 miles and moved us both in~!

Last hug for a couple months....have fun baby!!!!!!

Calling a Do Over

When we were kids we played tons of games. we had neighborhood baseball teams (no coach just kids), played soccer, bike races, you name it. When something was too close to call, we simply called for a "do-over." Or sometimes someone wasn't quite ready and called a do over. You couldn't abuse it or you were ignored. But most of us chose wisely and saved it for a really important moment.

I'd like to call a do-over.

Now lest you think I'm a whiner I'd like to say this is the first "do over" call in 18 years. For the record I have embraced every milestone, every accomplishment, every new school, new teacher, new friend.

But I'm just not ready to let go.

So I'd like a do over. Not the whole 18 years. Just the last one. That senior year was awesome.

So God, I'm calling a Do-over. Please?

Letting Go

No words needed. Get the tissues before you hit play.

Who Knew Cheap Toilet Paper Had a Purpose?

I hate cheap toilet paper. I hate going potty at work or anywhere that has cheap toilet paper. I thought companies bought cheap toilet paper because they were, well, CHEAP.

I never understood why grocery stores sold cheap toilet paper. Who bought that stuff? And Why? My butt hurt just thinking about buying cheap toilet paper.

Until The Other Day. Now I am ENLIGHTENED.

The Other Day my basement had a minor flood. It would have been a major flood but I got lucky and made a trip to the basement right after my shower and saw the water coming up through the floor in the overflow drain. HUH?

I suspected the main sewer pipe might be backed up, so I had Son go upstairs and flush the [clean] toilet. Sure enough, water came bubbling up through the floor drain.

HElllllooooo RotoSewerCostMe$600andmyleg Company. They came out quickly, unplugged the drain, sent out two sweet 40-something camera men to snake a camera down my pipe (sounds kind of...well, you know. My mom reads this and so I have to stop right there)...and show me how my sewer pipe just might do this again.

One nice cute RotoCamera man said, "So what kind of toilet paper do you use?" Hell of a pickup line. But I had such a high class answer! "Why Charmin of course honey." And what does he say? "Oh no honey, that's a plumber's dream. Keeps me in business. You need to buy yourself that cheap stuff. The big, fat, soft fluffy stuff doesn't dissolve in the pipes which causes these backups. Better get yourself some recycled thin stuff."

Please tell me he was kidding.

Nope, he was not. He said if I didn't switch, I just might have to spend $7,000 to get new pipes laid (something about my 40 year old pipes being all gnarly on the inside and snaggy and catching the not-quite-dissolved paper. Quite frankly it all sounded a little too personal and I just might resemble some of those comments....)

Anywhoooo, next trip to grocery store, I dutifully went to the TP aisle and bought, gasp, the Store Brand. And put it in the Kids' bathroom. The Good Stuff will stay in my bathroom where I can use it, throw it in the trash can, and take the can outside every night. Totally worth the trip.

Fragile Teens

They walk like kings and queens, relishing their soon-to-be freedom. They soak up the compliments on their achievements, seemingly ready to conquer their new school, make new friends, climb to the top of the hill again. They make friends quickly at orientation, figure out how to switch classes before I have even figured out how to read their schedule, confidently take you across the maze of campus to the next session, whiz through BB&B choosing sheets, comforters, message boards, organizational tools. You hold back the tears and the sadness and embrace their new selves. You cheer them on and hope you don't miss them too much.

Until they stand in the kitchen at midnight, crying and telling you how much college is going to suck. How they don't want to leave their friends, their past, their buddies. How they cannot possibly face these challenging new classes, live in a 12 x 12 "cage" and succeed at anything. It is all overwhelming.

And you want to shrink them down to a 5YO size, put them in your lap, cuddle them like you did before they went off to kindergarten, and tell them that it will all be ok. And you'll always be here for them. That life is full of choices and this is but one. If it works out, it will be great. And if this choice doesn't work out, another will come along, and that will be great.

Instead you hug them, cry with them, point out the benefits of going to college now with Facebook and Skyping and cell phones, not like I did, I had to WRITE SNAIL MAIL every single day to my best friend. I couldn't afford to call him. [this was unfathomable to the Teen] And I missed him like someone had cut off my right hand. But I did make new friends - friends I have kept for 25 years, even after moving around the world and back. You try to explain that their life is a big pot of mixing in ingredients, simmering the old, adding the new, making this great creation, growing this wonderful person. You admit it is scary and a little bit sad, but mostly an awesome opportunity.

And you send them to bed with hugs and reassurances, and then cry yourself to sleep wondering if you have done the right thing, given them the right tools, loved them enough so that they will know they can ALWAYS come home to Mama.

Adjustments

It has been a hot summer. No silly not hawt. Just H-O-T.

I love H-O-T. OK I love hawt, too, but that's another post.

After a few days of 100+ degrees, I got used to it.

After a few weeks of 100+ degrees and 99% humidity, I awoke to temps in the 70's. I got in my convertible...and turned on the heated seats.

Oh yes I did. Really. It was 76 degrees and I was freezing. I put the "Just In Case" sweatshirt back in the car, too.

Any questions remaining on why I need to move to Florida?!

The Trip

I just spent 48 hours with the Ex. We went to dinner and out drinking together. We spent the night together alone in a hotel room. Yes you read that right.

No you didn't miss any posts. Our "relationship" remains pretty much as it was.

So what could possess him to spend so much time with me?

Son is going to college and it was freshman orientation. Son's college is 5 or so hours away. We both agreed it would be stupid to drive 2 cars. Then he suggested - yes him - that it would be wasteful to get 2 rooms. Money is tight + we're facing double college, so I agreed. Call me desperate for civility.

The week leading up to the trip was frustrating to say the least. The day before we left he finally sent me an email about the trip + wanted to leave around 3. I told him I had a hearing at 2 and likely couldn't go til later but wasn't sure. I offered to call/text when I got out, but he said no. So when my hearing was a mere 20 minutes and I got home by 3:30 he was still an hour away at his job. He didn't think I'd be home then. Oh well. He doesn't want to communicate, I won't.

So we weren't starting well.

I sat in the back of his little BMW, silently reading and working.

Son stayed with us in the hotel the first night, a buffer. We were polite.

The next morning we went to school. I had been apprehensive about Son's choice. Tech is HUGE. Too big for Son, even if he is in the honors program with "only" 500 kids. But orientation changed all that. The meetings were multimedia extravaganzas. The school is totally organized, offers more assistance and services than I could ever fathom. The dean of the honors program is as human and approachable as he is brilliant. Wow.

Son was so excited - they pumped him up and then took him away. The honors program makes all decisions his, they talk to him, just telling us (separately) what they told him.

Thursday night we dropped Son off at the dorm at 5pm for the night and then...we were on our own.

Did I tell you this is Ex's Alma mater?

So Ex took me on a walking tour of the campus. I couldn't stop saying, "Wow! Awesome! Gorgeous!" The school is breathtaking, dynamic, fabulous. I hadn't been there in about 20 years, and I don't think I ever really had a tour. Ex was very accommodating, cheery, talkative, informative. It was so weird, but nice.

Then I realized we were not really talking. He was sharing his vast knowledge of the place, enjoying his walk through time. I told him I appreciated the tour and making me feel better about Son's choice. He said he was happy to do so. But any "conversation" beyond that didn't happen. I tried. Nope.

After the 2 hour walking tour in 95 degrees, we headed to the alumni house for a parent reception. We were early and headed to the bar for a rum drink (or two) on an empty stomach. I thought we would talk. Nope. Couldn't get him to toast the success of our Son without twisting his arm. Oh well the bartender and I shared rum knowledge. Ex seemed perplexed with my new-found rum knowledge.

Then we went to the reception. We ended up sitting with 2 dads also sending sons to school. We shared angst, laughs and drinks. Finally I realized we needed food, so we headed downtown for dinner.

We shared sushi for dinner. Sushi. In our 20 years of marriage we Never. Ate. Sushi. Turns out we both love it, both discovering that After the D. Of course he opted to sit at the bar and eat rather than share a table. And talked to the guy next to him not me. Again No Matter - I made my own fun with the bartender and some other folks.

Then we went for "one last drink" at The Famous College Bar. We shared a table with a guy we had met at dinner. Again we didn't have to talk. I tried a couple times. But really we stopped talking years ago. Decades even.

It was so weird to be with him in so many ways. Honestly I'm used to being with the Captain and we talk about everything all the time nonstop. Hard stuff, silly stuff, it's all out there. We hold hands everywhere and kiss at red lights. I briefly forgot Ex doesn't talk about anything. He walks 5 paces ahead of me. He does not answer questions. We never held hands while married. Kissing to him was an obligatory 30 second prelude to what he really wanted. I don't miss any of that. I did miss the Captain. It would have been so much more fun.

Throughout the trip Ex was mostly cordial, as was I. But there were times His True Self came through (as, I'm sure, did mine). When he belittled me, ignored my requests, refused to discuss something, I simply ignored him and did things my own way. I refused to take his crap. When we were married, in the interest of "making peace" I took his crap all the time. Now, I don't have to. I didn't fight with him - indeed we both don't care enough about each other to fight any more. (think about that). No, instead whatever conflict was at issue I handled my way, ignoring him. The funny thing was, when I did that, he put aside his nasty self and turned back to the funny, accommodating tour guide. (he can be very, very funny). I wonder if I had been more forthright in our marriage, refusing to take his crap then, if perhaps we would still be together? Oh well, we shall never know. But I doubt it. And I have NO regrets - well almost none. I wish my kids' parents were still married. But I'm glad I'm not married if that makes sense.

The best part of the trip was the happy feeling I got walking around campus, going through buildings, seeing dorms, touring food places, walking by the duck pond, standing on the war memorial overlooking the drill field - and "seeing" Son everywhere, feeling him growing, learning and becoming a wonderful man there. It truly is the right place for him. I didn't get that feeling last summer when we toured New England schools where he insisted he wanted to go. Even when he thought he wanted to go to my Alma mater (ironic no?) I wasn't sure. I just couldn't see him there.

But now, he is embracing his triple legacy (grandfather, father and now Son - and Great Uncle) and he is poised on the verge of greatness. And that is all that matters.