WAIT A FRICKIN' MINUTE wasn't that yesterday?

On my blog sidebar, do you see a photo of Son and Daughter together - first day of college?

Monday I am bringing Daughter home.  She is a sophomore now.

How the hell did that happen?

Where did the year go?

I'm just hoping it hurts a little bit less when they leave me again in the fall.

Because last fall?  Sucked.

I still miss them every single day.  I still can't get used to the quiet in the house at night.  I still walk by their rooms and wish they were in them, even if they were fighting.

I might even miss the dirty dishes in the sink.  Wait.  Nope.

1 week and all will be right with the world.  For a little while.

Making Yourself Cry

Do you ever do really stupid things that you know are going to make you cry, but you do them anyway?

It's no secret (I hope) that I love my kids. I'm caught in this weird place where I am so happy for them that they are off at college, learning, experiencing things, loving life, but yet I miss them every single day so much it hurts. Of course I can't tell them that - when they call or text or Facebook chat or skype (I know, really, how can I miss them with all that going on?!) - I pretend all is just great with the world.

And then I hang up the phone, and do something stupid like pull out their scrapbook, or stalk their high school photos on Facebook, or listen to This Song. And I sit and cry.

I don't know why I do this to myself. I know I'm going to cry. My face is going to get blotchy. My nose will run. My eyes get red and puffy.

And yet? I can't stop myself.

Sometimes I think if I just cry and get it over with, then I'll get over it and feel better. But it never works. I just miss them more and now look as gross as I feel.

Am I a dork or what?!

That was a rhetorical question Big Bro' and Jo...you needn't answer out loud.

Apparently, I did something Right

Friday in the mail I received perhaps one of the sweetest, most thoughtful, most important gifts of my life: a letter from my daughter.

She wrote me a poem about the things I mean to her and have done for her. She included an envelope decorated with her poem. The last line of the poem said, "Thank you for....." with instructions that if I ever doubted that I am "the best," I am to reach inside and grab a reminder.

Inside are many (a hundred? more?) little strips of paper that say things like, "For setting the microwave timer for 30 minutes." [that's how long they had to practice piano, whether they wanted to or not. They both LOVE to play now and are thankful for my dictatorship on that point.] Some points are recent memories, "For the multiple trips to Target to make sure my dorm room is just right." Others are distant memories or things I had even forgotten. There are general ones and specific ones, funny ones and thoughtful ones. I have resisted the urge to sit down and read them all at once. Instead I will attempt to savor her gift and reach in the bag when I'm feeling less than my best.

And of course I'll only reach in when it's safe to cry. Because this gift? Brings tears to my eyes.

Apparently, I did something right. And I give all the credit to God for the wonderful gift that is her. I know I don't deserve her, but I do thank Him for her (and my Son) every day of my life.

Oh and? I'm totally stealing this idea....


FYI this wasn't a random mailing - it was part of my birthday gift.

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.

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.

Graduation means....Painting the Furniture?

The Captain came up the morning after the Prom and was promptly put to work. Yet another step into our relationship and another endearing quality. He scrubbed my Patio for 2 hours. Then he helped me paint the lawn furniture. This was a white table that I bought with Ex, oh, 18 years ago?

Ex and I also bought about 10 pieces of Wrought Iron furniture - used - about 5 years ago. We painted it all . Some are pictured below. (the magic of spray over rust paint I love it)

All the chairs were wet so we dragged some kitchen chairs outside for dinner....
(I had painted the table the previous year so it just needed touchups and we could eat on it)

And gave a toast to a job well done!

Whew. Oh yeah, and we did some gardening first....Told you he was an awesome guy....

The Tears They are a Flowin'

It all started just a few short years ago, or so it seems. Although perhaps their 4th year of life seemed like an eternity. But alas what started in 1995 when they were three years old in Spain....their First First Day of School.....has now progressed.

Those wild twins (ok one was wild and the other just had wild hair) have turned into THESE - and here is their Last "Last Day of School" photo. I cried that morning. I cried when I took the photos. I cried when they left. I cried when I uploaded them. And now. yep. sobbing like a baby.

I had better bring a truckload of tissues to graduation.

Yes, I'm proud of them and happy they are going on to do great things. But Damned I'm going to miss them.

And This Is Why Sleep Is Optional

Yes it's Senior Time at the House Next Door and we've been busy. Prom was last Friday. Dinner for 17 turned into dinner for 17 and a party for the parents when the dinner got delayed because kids were late and the hairdresser was slow. OH well, it was fun!

That's Daughter on the right in the top photo, in the blue.

Yep three tables (and if you counted ok there were only 16 or something because one date went to the wrong house? " I dunno" as the kids say)

Here's my baby Girl with her Prom Date who used to be her boyfriend but now they're friends (yes that's OK by me AND her!)

Son made a quick appearance with his date so that I could take a photo then it was off to his place of dinner (that was a potluck so I made a tortilla espanola for him, too). No I didn't think to take a photo of Son and Daughter together. Things were a little hectic....

They posed as I took 99 photos. Yes. 99.

Then the limo bus "Chariots for Hire" showed up with the REST of the group.


Someone said there were 26 in all. I didn't have time to count.....

Now I'm uploading photos from the last 17 years onto my NEW laptop. The one Son cannot get within 10 feet of or he will be shot on sight. And when the photos are uploaded, I will work on graduation gifts. (What did Son do you ask? Click HERE)

What's that you say, Graduation is Friday? Yeah that's why I'm up at 2:30 am.

Sleep? Is overrated.