Musings about my almost empty nest and middle age (can you still be middle aged in your late 50s?)

 Funny I was thinking about how envious I was about having a whole amazing life ahead filled with possibilities and life's joys. And then I realized-I'm there right now. I can be excited now for whatever is around the corner. I have no career I'm trying to build, or bad dates to endure, or having to stay up late to complete a project. I'm down to just G to check his grades/feed him second dinner/nag to make sure he's turned in everything. I am at an amazing spot. I have time for walks, lunches out, sitting on the couch reading a great book. I don't have to be hustling for poster board at 9pm, or hunting down leotards or refereeing fights over how long someone has played with a special lego set. Instead of bemoaning how much I miss them being little (because that was f-ing hard, don't kid yourself) or feeling like I should have done "more" with my single days (travel, fulfilling career) I need to embrace the NOW. I can drink my coffee, and enjoy sunny walks with the dogs, and spend time learning with various apps and podcasts, and meet up for brunch with friends. What I wanted more than anything else: a happy marriage, a big family, a comfortable lifestyle where I don't have to buy things off the sale rack, lots of friends, a beautiful home: I've gotten all that. And I made that happen-don't think it just fell out of the sky. 

hello august monday

Just spent 20 minutes "window" shopping and putting things in carts only to think "why? i'm going no where and have gained weight so i won't be happy with how anything looks anyway." Ouch. I saw a tv ad for some new depression medication and i thought-huh, i do seem to have some of those symptoms.  whatever. i wish i could feel respite when i lay down on my bed in the afternoons and evenings-that used to give me this feeling of "ahhhhh". and now it doesn't, which makes me even more anxious and bummed out. like i can't get away from the feelings of impending doom and gloom. i keep trying. i keep trying with sweets. i keep trying with a cocktail-which has gone from maybe once a week at the start of the pandemic to now four nights a week. like something to "celebrate" or look forward to. and it completely does not work for any more than the time i'm eating/drinking. then i'm right back to where i started. which is fucking covid, the fucking administration, our miserable world, i can't see my parents, i'm angry that other people are still going on vacation/seeing their friends and family (sometimes with masks and sometimes not), i always liked instagram for the "fun" stories but now seeing other people not socially distancing on it is making me feel even more isolated, i'm worried about school for the boys, i'm scared A's severe anxiety will come back, i stress that one of us will end up getting the virus and it will have catastrophic results, i stopped exercising and doing yoga and meditating-i kept thinking it would make me feel better. which i guess in those moments they did-but then i'm still here in the midst of this fucking pandemic with no end in sight. What do you know from the thousands of dollars you have spent on coaching programs over the years? Thoughts cause my feelings. My feelings are what create my reality. Okay. Deep breaths. I can't change covid. I can't change other people's behaviors.  I can only create my own thoughts about all of it.  Everyone is doing the best they can.  I am doing the best I can. when this started i thought i could ninja mind work myself into the best physical and emotional shape ever-all the yoga, and meditation and family togetherness and cleaning schedules and i was making Meals, and doing everything i could think of for us to set a tone of fun and harmony.  that level of "perfect" is not sustainable. i need to keep the house together, i need to grocery shop and feed people. i need to exercise and meditate and do yoga to try and give me a semblance of feeling like myself. this will end. we will get through this. i need to put down my fucking phone. that is leading me down into the pits of hell-between the shitty news, and covid rates and polls and seeing other people travel to florida or hang with their parents. 

I thought it would be super quiet here-but B has people over at night, A is always giving us a sporting event play by play, G is around, sometimes with a friend.  S is in and out. We're planning E's visit home for Kaaboo, our visits up there for Parents Weekend and the Big Game, thinking ahead to Thanksgiving. I love this. I know she's really happy where she is, B will be happy wherever he ends up. A is really liking high school. G loves his class. Everyone is happy and doing well. I'm enjoying (not going to lie) having less craziness-and there's still plenty to do around here. I have periods where I miss having babies and little people-but that was also a lot of hard work and tears and diapers and tantrums and sleepless nights. It wasn't all snuggles and kisses. I remember a lot of times of feeling overwhelmed and worried.  I don't dread being an empty nester (maybe also because it's not happening for a really, really long time.) I'm bemused when I see friends who got married just a little bit before we did, or had small kids when we did, and who are now empty nesters because they had fewer kids, and their kids are closer in age.  I have such a ways to go since we had G later.  He has 8 more years until college. Okay-my friends who do have empty nests-what does that look like for most of them? Logistically, less laundry and fewer meals. Well, C does their laundry currently and I don't mind cooking. What else? They can go out more? I don't really care about going out a lot.  And with older kids around, if we want to go to the movies or out to dinner, we do it. Travel? Well, S is working, and I traveled with him a lot last year. If I want to do that again, I could figure out a way to get someone to stay with the boys.  But I am happy to be home right now. What else would be different? Hmm-less worry.  That's in your head and you could do that right now with them being home.  You know you can't control them once they're out of the house, you don't know what they're doing, you have to trust in them and the universe's plan that they'll be happy and safe.  You could tap into those feelings with them living at home too. I can't "control" who they're hanging out with at school.  I don't know what their internal lives are like. I have to trust in them and que sera, sera.  I know I'm not mourning what's passed.  That whole website of women who are bereft of their kids growing up and going off to college, I do not understand.  And I love being a mom, having babies, hanging out with my teens, I have a wonderful family with amazing kids. They need to go out into the world and be adults and live their lives.  Would you want that time to go on forever where they're in your house and you're responsible for every little thing?? Don't you have your own friends and your own interests?? I like my kids' friends, but I don't "hang out" with them-so I'm not missing them either. That's weird to me. Of course it felt emotional when I cleaned out E's room, or think back to when she was little. I feel nostalgia and I can miss certain things about that time, and I feel that "Awwww" when I see photos of them about to walk down to the bus stop, or at the Little Italy festival. But I don't think that time is "better" than this time. There was plenty about that time that was tough, and there's plenty of time with them now that I just love. As my dad always said, these are the good old days.

Things I've learned over the last few weeks:

If you listen to French jazz or Duke Ellington on headphones while walking through a city, you will feel like the star of a Nora Ephron movie.

Being at the Met from opening until 3:30 is too long.

Cookie dough is delicious for three bites.

Finding my way to one of the best spots for Italian pastry in the North End, and then getting a great picture of the cannoli on IG, was more satisfying than actually eating it.

Reading a great book (Manhattan Beach by Jennifer Egan) reminds me of what my writing teacher in Jan Term would repeat:"Show, don't tell."

Good comedies are hard to come by. Lady Bird was wonderful-clever lines, pathos, real mix of characters. Set it Up was cute in parts, but silly overall-and the real star was New York scenery.

It's an internal fight for me sometimes to not just give in to "good enough" for the sake of having something finished. There are times when things do need to be done the right way-even if it means speaking up or waiting for completion.

Last night she cleaned out her room-took everything off the walls, emptied the closet, donated/tossed/packed every bit of clothing that was in her dresser.  The recycling bin is filled. I put a huge bag for Goodwill in my trunk. She has two big suitcases packed for her summer in NYC, and three boxes put aside for Berkeley, several bins of her favorite books (her love of reading has been a constant), and a few bins of keepsakes for storage. That's a wrap. I can now sell/donate the off-white little girl furniture that we picked out 19 years ago in Baltimore, that has moved from our 1929 Tudor in Mount Washington, and then to the big new house in Howard County, to here in her teen room in San Diego-all the iterations of our life together as a family. We'll paint over the hot pink and put in a closet shelving system, buy a double bed and a desk for B (that he himself will only need for a year before he goes off to college), and A will finally get his own bedroom, after sharing for his whole childhood.  Suddenly, our house that was always filled and lively and loud, is seeming awfully quiet and too big for just us. I know we'll readjust to the space, and I'll calibrate meal sizes and weekend plans, and it will be a new version of our family and wonderful too. We'll still have visits and vacations and special times together as the six of us-but all of us really "home" and our own unit of six is now a memory.

K was saying she really misses when her kids were little-and I hear that-I loved having babies and toddlers and little people. But I don't miss the broken sleep, and the endless snacks and sippy cups and buckling screaming, squirmy toddlers into car seats on hot days. It was so much tougher than I acknowledged at the time. It was what I wanted more than anything in the world, and I am so grateful I had an abundance of it, but man-exhausting. I have such happy memories of Friday night dance parties and Disneyland days and all of us trouping into Starbucks and holding someone on my hip at all times. But I also have a balanced view-parenting a determined toddler/preschooler/school aged child meant so much patience and creativity --and then intense guilt when I would invariably lose it all. I didn't like my mothering a lot of the time. I'm finding it so much easier to parent older kids (not that I don't yell/lose my temper/have regrets about what I say in the heat of the moment.) I had kids with motor and emotional challenges-there were years of OT sessions, and speech therapies, and "things to work on at home" and watching them be aloof or "different" than their same age peers was brutal in my head. The thoughts I would have, and the feelings I would try and buffer: Would they ever have "true" friends? Would they learn how to "fit in"? Would they be able to do the physical things that their same age group seemed to do with ease? What does their future hold?? Oh my god-it was so incredibly painful to watch them and worry and to not know and feel so fucking helpless. On the plus side, and so different than what K is working through now, I saw almost 20 years ago that you can't control your children or their actions/feelings/outcomes. Even when your baby is just a year old-and you're dressing them in cute outfits and picking their play group-you have ZERO control of their bodies and minds. But I tried to do that for years-and I let that weigh on me-literally weigh on me. I carried around 50 pounds of guilt/fear/stress. This was the year that not only did E grow up and acknowledge her own beauty and power-but I did too. I realize completely that she's just fine-and when she's not-she can figure it out on her own. I can't solve it for her. I can't solve it for any of them. And the burden is off-just like that. I can release all the need to try and hang on, and control, and the worry of how they will be or what they will do.  They will be fine-because it's their own journey, not mine, and it never, ever was.

Mother's Day 2018. What are moments that stand out to me that typify the joys of being a mother? There was the Milkshake concert in the fall of 2004 on the steps of the Baltimore Museum of Art. I was holding blue eyed baby A, with little E and B at my side, and I was crying because I was so happy. The big family with the adorable baby and toddler and darling little girl, the poignant music about appreciating having small kids and the beauty of life, a gorgeous fall day on the east coast: all my dreams were realized and encapsulated in that moment.  There was another time when Gabriel was a toddler and we were driving up to Pennsylvania for a Sunday outing-and we'd stopped at a Starbucks and someone commented on what a beautiful family we had.  I got that same flash of joy last summer in Kauai, sitting outside at a food truck, laughing, enjoying being on vacation in such a beautiful spot. A mom sitting at the next picnic table offered to take a family picture of us, and after I posted it, Debbie commented that I looked like a Queen surrounded by my subjects-and that's how I felt: absolutely glorious and brimming with joy. There are, of course, many more harried moments of racing to get various people to various places, with Target stops and last minute projects and thrown together meals that half of my family doesn't like. But I can see those times are winding down.  Diapers and sleep deprived nights are a distant memory, and like a flash, fixing lunch boxes and monitoring screen time will come to an end too . What will remain, I think, are the more special moments because of their rarity. As my children get older, my role as a mother evolves too, and my appreciation for them grows. I never foresaw how happy it would make me to see my older kids talking together, listening to my younger two play together, while not even being part of their discussions or fun. Just the observation of them as interesting, funny and kind people on their own-and liking each other-that's the best gift I could ever receive.

What kinds of things could you write about? Places to go, things to do with your kids. I used to think being a hotel concierge would be cool, or a kids/family concierge somewhere. I'm passed that now for sure. Which brings me to another thing-I used to think that having a baby/small kids was the absolute pinnacle. I was so excited about all of it-from maternity clothes to baby gear-to the actual baby/preschooler. I thought that being 30 was probably just IT. Also-prior to that, the 20something post college, wear great clothes and go out with your girlfriends stage was wonderful to. I paid careful attention during those stages to anyone I saw out also at similar stages or right above me--how did they look? what were they wearing? how did my outfit stack up against there? (Oy vey.) And I couldn't imagine that being 20-35 wasn't the absolute best time of your entire life and that those women were always who I aspired to. And do you know something-now that I'm 51-I don't notice them AT all. I mean-I think, oh, young mom with baby. But I don't look at the kid, or the baby gear, or what the mom really looks like, or wonder about her life in any way. I just think, young mom, btdt, moving on to other thoughts. Part of my crying years ago when we finally took the crib down (and part of why I had so many kids and they're so spaced out in ages) is I could not imagine my role as anything other than Young Mom. Not that I've rebranded myself as something real either (I jokingly call myself Old Mom or Type B Mom) but I'm at peace with letting that part of my life go. And beyond just grieving, and being content, I actually love the stage we're at. I like that my teens are busy and funny and smart-and their surliness and occasional curtness-is balanced out by G's sweetness and still wanting to snuggle. I have built in babysitters. There's only a very occasional time where I have to scramble for childcare or carpool help. This is just a wonderful, unexpected, time of my life.

Room Mom Drama!

Wow-what a great way to test me.  Put a group of "popular" girls in my class, have them want something I asked to do (Room Mom), get denied, freak out!  These women were never going to be my friends.  But they're a clique-and I totally have my issues with cliques.  G is not going to be friends with their kids.  So on the one hand, I'm bemused and feel like they're pathetic.  (Really-on the email we were addressed as "Room Moms" instead of our names-lololol).  On the other hand-I hate when I think people don't like me or are upset with me.  I feel bad for J.  Because she was friends with them and they're being ridiculous and giving her a hard time.  Betrayal! Cover-ups! Friendship! These women need jobs or actual problems if they're going to be upset over this.  How insane are they?!  What is the adult thing for me to do?  I'm going to host this event with J.  We are going to come up with sign-up sheets and I'm going to ask the working moms if they want to sign up prior to opening it up to the brunch.  And if the clique is upset and doesn't come to my house-awesome!  I'm happy to do the parties with the nice moms.  I don't feel a big need to walk up to school and hang out anymore.  Although maybe G wants me to.  If we didn't have this stupid street with no crosswalk and the insane drivers, I would completely let him walk home alone too.  Maybe I'll just hang out in front and help cross the street.  That would work.  I have plenty of other stuff going on in my life.  HIS elementary school is not MY life.  

Will we get everything done before she leaves? No.  Are there stores and Amazon Prime?  Yes.  Is she capable of figuring it all out for herself?  Yes.  Stay in your own lane.  You're not the one who's going off-you did that already.  Stop flipping out.  I am so going to miss her-and the reality is she's never going to live here again.  She will come back for a few summers, and her breaks-but that will be it.  And when she's asking about maybe coming home at Thanksgiving-and you had to say no: cost/time-I know it's not to see us, it's to see her friends.  That's a crazy realization.  But I know it's completely normal.  It would not be good if she couldn't leave us.  She's an adult now with her own friends. (And to be honest, having one fewer person in the house to be responsible for is actually really appealing.)  I'm trying to focus on that rather than being sad that this part of my life is over: it's like when we took down the crib.  Yes-we will never have all 4 kids home other than a vacation or a school break.  Things are definitely going to be different.  But I don't want to be pining for it.  I loved it.  (Most of it.)  It's not like I have any serious regrets.  I remember when she was a baby and I had playgroup friends who couldn't wait for their child to be onto the next stage: walking or talking or potty trained. I NEVER felt that way.  I never was wishing the time away-I was fully in that moment.  I need to acknowledge that-I fully wanted the big family and the chaos and the mess.  I am so fortunate that I was able to have what I wanted more than anything else.  Now we're moving on.  And that's good too.  I am so excited for her to go to her dream school in her dream city and see what amazing things she does.

I feel such a mix of emotions about E going off to college.  I think I felt more sad months ago with the realization that it's really the end of an era.  (And she was anxious and stressed and hanging out more and needing my support-it's totally changed in the last few months.)  Our family is going to be so different.  We've had all of these different versions of us-from the newlyweds on the move, to the couple with the baby, to a family of 4, to us with 3 kids and now almost 8 years with G.  And with each of these versions I have these pictures in my head: the young couple, madly in love about to take off across country, then with E in Bmore-some adorable little outfit on-in our townhouse in Owings Mills; then in the South Road house and all its leafy, humid, splendor-with the 2 of them on playing on my bed "Make your super baby muscles.  Say it loud, say it proud: I'm a baby"; and then it's fall at the Milkshake concert at the BMA with E, B and baby A-and I'm crying because I'm so happy; and Friday night dance parties with everybody, and a Starbucks somewhere in Pennsylvania with someone remarking on how beautiful they all are, and trips to Disneyland and Universal and WDW.  And now? She's ready to move on with her life-and I remember so clearly what that was like.  I couldn't wait to begin with college, and career, and new friends, and romances and travel-so I can only hope for her that she's all in and ready to experience it all.   And our family is moving on to unknown territory.  Before I was kind of dreading it because what I have had: the big, wonderful family with lots of babies and little people, is all over-and that was all I wanted when I was younger.  Now I have to create new dreams, and new plans-and while I had been anxious and sad and unsure-I'm actually really getting excited.  I'm looking on the bright side-what can be great about having older kids, fewer kids to contend with, what do we want to do as a couple, what do I want to do myself.

In the book I've been reading to G, the main character is a composer who spends his days at his piano writing music.  The author describes how his process involves listening outside of himself, and also listening INside himself.  G was asking what that meant.  So we tried it together:  we were sitting on my bed and had the windows open-and we stopped speaking, listened to the sounds and then described them to each other: the wind rustling the trees, birds tweeting, the traffic sounds cascading up the canyon.  Listening to the inside of ourselves was a little more difficult to explain-I said it was being very quiet, closing your eyes and listening to your thoughts as they come up.  For me-lately-what is coming up are just checklists: get so and so here or there, call, email, text, pick up, don't forget.  All that minutia (while certainly important to the functioning of our family) is definitely not what the author was talking about.  Listening to yourself on a deeper level means confronting things that are difficult, but also things that are joyful.  When I spend my time running around, or just at my computer looking at celebrity gossip and filler (FB, news, emails) I am not actively engaged in my life in a meaningful way.  And unfortunately this seems to be how I do summer.  I look forward to my time "off"-I'm always so thankful that school comes to a close-in theory it's more laid back, less run around, and more "fun".  But the reality is that the weird schedule throws me off, I don't end up taking care of myself, we still don't have the time to do the "fun stuff," the kids have too much togetherness and fight, and the amount of screen time we all spend makes me cranky.

Cyber bullying. Ugh.  Well-4 kids, and in this world, it had to come up eventually.  My initial feelings are mama bear:  I want to find this kid and let him have it.  I also want to tell his mother that she needs to fucking parent and pay attention to what her kid is doing.   What have I done so far?  (besides immediately eat 2 chocolate chip cookies).  I asked A questions, and I was calm about it.  I said, oh he sounds like a jerk.  We checked his instagram account, but it was private.  I looked to see if the family is in the directory, but for better or worse, they're unlisted, and I don't know them.  I emailed the teacher to tell her-and we're going from there.  I will not fixate or freak out or get angry or cuckoo.  I'm going to be calm and act like we're handling it.  Done.  Boom.

Day 2.  No word back from the principal who the teacher referred this to.  I also haven't heard back from her on a separate email where I asked to have him moved so he's not sitting next to this kid.  However, despite my telling the older kids to not do anything, B started a fictitious instagram account to follow this kid and then saw the pic (which was mean but not awful) and reported it to be taken down.  E went beyond that and reported the kid for harassment.  I have to hand it to them:  they give A a hard time a LOT, but if anyone else messes with him-look out-they are ON IT.  We then had some great, funny conversations about bullying, teasing back and some seriously OTT come backs over dinner with the 6 of us and my parents (who relayed their own stories of being teased and bullied and even beaten up in my dad's case).  I think the whole thing ended up being positive and sort of matter of fact.

Dragging my ass through these last weeks of school-in no particular order:  all of sudden:  PROM-dress shopping, makeup, watching hair videos and oh-need shoes, and need a salad for Saturday night.  From the same child:  I need 100 paper plates in an hour.  Child number 2: volunteer hours? how many?  how to get them quickly-let us schlep you around to do this.  Late pickup after school-I heard 4, he says he told me 4:30, and still kept me waiting until 4:45.  Tonight a concert.  Tomorrow night a school event to be attended.  Child #3-the fight where I then had to have a conversation with the kid's mother, the toga for tomorrow morning, "I need rope tomorrow morning", oh by the way-it's 10pm and I totally forgot about my math homework."  Then I get to watch them all perform in Greek plays for AN HOUR AND A HALF.  Surely they could pick the best one that's 10 minutes?  Really?  We have to sit through all of them???  Child #4-just baseball: practice, the last game, the party at Chik fil A.  Oh and MEALS.  And then this weekend-the bat mitzvah-everyone get dressed up, be there on time.  Lunch there.  Come home-change clothes.  Help E get ready for Prom.  Get us all redressed up-me formal-for the party.  Sunday school-last one, praise God, but treats of some sort??  Finish the damn Science Board and project.  G: birthday party.  Then hike??  Bring a veggie tray. And dinner?? Ay Yi Yi.   Next week is the same Crazy Town Express.  THREE BIRTHDAY PARTIES.  THREE THINGS TO BAKE FOR.

20 years is a really long time to be married.  And sometimes it feels like we've always been married-and other times I can remember parts about that day, or when we were first in Chicago, that seem like they just happened.  And our life together-with all the places we've lived, our kids, travels, jobs, friends, struggles-it's kind of a big blur.  I feel like time has really sped up recently-and that's probably because we're getting ready to send E off into the world.  I've been so focused internally on that-I am kind of overwhelmed, and it's a challenge not to be emotional.   So I think I'm kind of shutting down because I am feeling this crazy mix of sadness, and ache over how fast time goes, and happiness for her, and pride in what she's accomplished so far, and excitement to see where she goes from here-it's a lot to feel and process.  Like too much.  Just breathe.  I swear we just got married, and had this beautiful baby and rented a Maryland townhouse with Ikea furniture and all these amazing things that I had looked forward to for so long-the happy marriage and babies-were finally coming true.  And now I'm in a gorgeous  house in San Diego looking out at palm trees and my four big kids are asleep upstairs, and I love my everyday life.  Being past the baby stage (as much as I yearned for it and loved it in the moment) is really a relief.  I don't think I ever processed or acknowledged how difficult that all was-are they eating enough? sleeping enough? developing properly?  And if they're not, wow-don't even know where to go with that.  I think I fronted like I was super easygoing  and relaxed, but inside I was stressed and exhausted (and my body issues reflected that for sure).  And now?  I think now that I've gotten my oldest just about to adulthood, it puts a lot of things in perspective.  So much that I did stress over and worry about were things that I had no control over, and therefore not necessary to create such anxiety or try and take action on.

I never had a vision of myself as middle aged, and when I see pictures of myself or look at my poor lumpy, varicose vein ridden legs, it's a total fucking shock.  And for so long I still felt like the same person inside.  But lately I am feeling "older" and definitely different.  I am more wise in a lot of ways,  I think I give people the benefit of the doubt most of the time, I'm not as defensive, I'm more open and out there with my friendships, but my weird social insecurities can occasionally still rise up at times (popular girls/rich people).  I see where people are coming from-how they're insecure and unhappy, how they're trying to do the best they can.  That's a pretty huge deal to feel empathy most of the time instead of feeling defensive and afraid or angry.  That's probably why I have so many more friends right now too.  I appreciate other people, and see them for who they are, and enjoy them.  I'm not looking for just a few people to fulfill all of my social needs.  I can have great conversations and have fun with different friends.  I also love just being home and hanging with S.  I think lately the stress of work and the shuttling of kids to a million different things and lots of outside activities is wearing on us.  I'm glad that Sunday and Monday we have nothing going on.  I want to work on the yard, go for walks, and have some quiet meals together and just reconnect.

I'm reading this book for book club and it's really annoying me.  I truly cannot believe that the author received such kudos for it and it's a best seller.  Biggest thing-this book is completely directed towards the 1% ers (of which I appear to be, and yet not) who live in either Silicon Valley, NoVa burbs or NYC burbs.  I don't think a lot of what she says pertains to most people.  I'm sorry-I don't know anyone in my circles who truly expects their kids to go to an Ivy League or a "name" school.   Also-she's laying the blame for this at the feet of the parents, while discussing 1)how schools are giving WAY too much homework-from elementary on up and 2)how difficult the college entrance process is.  Neither of these 2 MAJOR issues is the fault of the parents.  How about putting this back on our educators-at both the high school and college levels!!!  Yes, we over schedule and put our kids at the center of our universe.  But even in the examples of "how to discuss things with your kids" made me what to stab my eyeballs out: she's trying to teach you how to guide your child into analyzing what they're doing/thinking in such an obnoxious, precious way.  It's yet another way of trying to get your child to be The Best.  From a research point of view, I also think a lot of what she is complete tripe.  A lot of her "evidence" is anecdotal and examples from her own life and social circles.

Going to the bris today and feeling like my own sons' were a million years ago.  B was really the only one who had the traditional bris: our house, 40 people, catered by Joan & Gary's, I cried through the prayers and left the room during the actual circumcision.  And A's was at our house with a mohel, and my parents and that was it.  For G, we just had the doctor do it at the hospital.  We had no real Jewish community at that point.  We didn't belong to a synagogue.  We didn't have a ton of friends.  We had no Jewish relatives who would come for it, other than K.  L  had already died.  And we had a big naming for E at Baltimore Hebrew, and then a party at home.  It's such a weird tradition.  A medical procedure where we all observe, clap, sing, and then eat.  Weird.  I am feeling such a meh feeling over the whole Judaism thing as of late.  I have no interest in doing more study, or being more observant.  I'm glad I converted.  I like our Jewish community.  I am glad we raised the kids with something.  But currently I am in the "I just don't care" phase.  Perhaps once I start going to more services with all the upcoming bnai mitzvot and prepping A for his I will get more into it.  Or not.  It's not that I doubt the existence of a plan, or God-or the feeling that we're all interconnected-but I don't need to follow the tenets of Judaism for all of that.  And I don't know that studying more about Judaism, or somehow getting more into it, is the way.  I also think the whole Jesus thing-that he is somehow the only Real way to God-is cuckoo.  Eating certain foods, or praying certain things, or belief in a specific thing-I guess I'm too much of a cynic-but I don't think that is "it".    Believe whatever you want, but don't impose those beliefs on others.  I'm really more "Golden Rule"-do unto others.  Be a kind person, try to help others.  The End.

That girl.  Not only did she get into Cal Poly SLO, UCSB, UC Davis, Northeastern, American University with a $12K scholarship, she got into her absolute favorite school:  George Washington with a $20K scholarship AND into the super prestigious Elliott School of International Affairs.  I am crying.  Because not only has she worked her butt off for all of high school, and is such a fantastic person-she had such a tough childhood socially and with her motor skills.  She had to have occupational therapy for years.  She had such a rough go in  elementary school and at Mt View with the whole social scene.  She was not one of those giggly, girly-girls.  She was just different, an old soul-and she was bullied.  And she has absolutely blossomed since we moved here, since she went to SDA.  She deserves every bit of wonderful that comes her way! And now: she is about to take off on this amazing adventure.  I cannot even fathom all the stuff she will see and do, and all the interesting people she will meet.  I am in fucking AWE of her.   Proud doesn't even come close to describing what I feel for her.  She is going to go off and do wonderful things.  I just had to have faith in her and in the universe.  I need to remember that when I'm frustrated with the boys or worried about them.  It will all end up the way it's meant to.

If I could back in time, to when she was 4 or when she was in 6th grade-what would I say to myself?  She is going to do amazing things.  She is a beautiful, funny, smart, hard working person.  She will be happy and have friends and be going places you cannot fathom.  She's moving so far beyond all of this.  Relax.  Just enjoy her.  Make her feel good about herself.  Focus on her strengths and interests.  Don't worry about the rest.

When I was at G's conference all I could think most of the time is that this is total bs.  We will continue to read together, and he can read alone when he feels like it (or maybe I will mandate reading times for everybody).  He's doing just fine.  I don't care what "level" he's at.  He's a very fluid reader and reads with expression.  If he can retell the story he's doing fine.  He may not pick up on every nuance but whatever.  I don't care.  I never test him on spelling-I think first grade spelling is ridiculous.  And the common core math is absurd.  I'm just going to smile and tell him he's awesome. Done.  Whatever.  E learned completely different things and different ways in elementary school.  And she's brilliant and hard working and fine.  I am not going to get hung up on what they say.  I was much more thrilled to hear that he's happy and loves being there.  That's all I care about.   The rest they figure out.  That is one of the biggest blessings of being an older mom and having older kids.

I was just looking over the letter we got from SDA the other day about the last months of school and information about prom, senior awards night, graduation-dates, times.  I said out loud, "Getting to the end .  .  ."  and then thought from E's point of view, "Getting to the beginning .  .  ."

I couldn't wait to get out and go to college and start my life.  I was scared-hence why I went so close to home to the ultimate safe school, but I was away from home and thrilled.  No matter how much she loves us, loves home-it's time for childhood to be over and for her adult life to start.  All the things she'll get to do, friends she'll make, romances she'll have, things she'll learn .  .  . The bizarre thing is-so much we'll never know anything about.  It goes so fast.  I waited my whole life to have a baby, be a mother.  I swear I was just pregnant, wearing those maternity overalls, living in Baltimore, and rocking in her nursery-couldn't wait to meet her, hold her, kiss her.  Then here we are: 18 years later and she's ready to head out into the world.