More or Less

Yes, I know that the blog needs updating. I know it's my turn. I know, I know, I know.....

Things have been busy. The super fun Florida trip was soon followed by D's arrival home from college. And when she's home there's just more -- more activity, more errands, more comings, more goings, more mess, more fun, more food, more laundry, more life. More. More happiness. And when she's gone again, as she is now, there's also more -- more wishing that time did not speed by so quickly, more quiet, more loneliness. All the mores that add up to less.

I'll adjust again. Today is already better than three days ago. It's not an unfamiliar process but it's still hard. Seems a bit unfair to pour one's life into raising kids, striving to make them independent, and then you succeed and they ARE independent and gone away. Not exactly a welcome reward for a job well done.

Okay, days have now passed since I began writing. D is happily settled in New York City and I have returned to a good routine. Less self-pity, more normal. And before more time can pass, I do want to tell you a little bit about the trip to Florida because it was just. so. fun. First, the weather was Chamber of Commerce perfect. This is important to mention, not only because while lolling under the clear blue skies and soaking in total sunshine, we missed five of the nine straight days of cold rain at home, but also because it has done very little except rain here since. And I'm now talking over a month's time! Yuck. It doesn't even seem summer-like; there have been only two trips to the pool since the Memorial Day opening. Back to Florida.... we stayed at an oceanfront private club, very posh, sooooo nice, with every amenity imaginable. Nothing so vile as money exchanged hands on the grounds; discreet signatures only, please. All this was made possible by my friend Annie and her reciprocal agreement with a Washington, DC club of which she is a member. We sunned, we ate, we watched tennis, we napped. It was truly the perfect vacation. We also had the opportunity to see a number of yachts docked on the inland waterway. When I say yachts, I am not speaking of larger boats, I am talking YACHTS! Those that require crews to run, and surely come with staff as well. Although I enjoy the occasional ride on a boat,I have never had any desire to own one of my own. That is, until I saw the yachts. I quickly became obsessed with ownership and could easily picture myself spending my days in sunny exotic locales. When we got home I researched my favorite boat, The Gallant Lady, as well as similar models, and learned that the yacht purchase may just be a little bit out of reach in the current economic climate. Those suckers are expensive! That disappointment in no way mars the great memory of the trip however -- it was a fabulous getaway!

Coming up on Monday is my granddaughter's birthday! Sweetums will be 3 years old. It's really hard for me to believe that she is no longer a baby, and is now very much a little girl. I say it over and over, but only because it is so true, being a grandmother is just the best! More love, less aggravation. Who could ask for more?

Not Even a Gold Watch

Thirty-three years ago after four years of marriage, a move to a new city, and a total lack of desire to hunt for a new job, I decided the time was right to have a baby. I was undeterred by the fact that we lived in a one bedroom rental, had only a minimum amount of money in the bank and no secretly stashed savings -- not to mention that I knew absolutely nothing about babies and childrearing. Why would these little things matter? I'd learn. We would survive. It would all work out. And within the year, our first daughter arrived. I left the hospital, headed (baby in arms; no carseat in those days!) for home and my new career: motherhood. Sure I faced a stiff learning curve, literally learning how to diaper (once again olden days-cloth diapers), feed, bathe, and care for my precious infant by reading the baby book and following the diagrams. There was no baby nurse, no mother, no mother-in-law to help. It was just me and my husband (while he wasn't working), but it didn't matter. I had found my passion, my calling, my career. I was a mother.

Two years later our family of three grew to a family of four with the birth of another daughter.
And as the years sped by I surrounded myself with all the trappings of my well-loved career -- a station wagon, carpools, volunteer jobs in the schools, Brownie scout leader, chief cook and bottle washer. Some days were harder than others; this career path definitely had some bumps along the way. But I loved it all. Despite my dedication and best intentions, I made mistakes. Lots of mistakes. There are so many occasions that are still painful for me to remember and how I long for a do-over. But I did the best I could at that particular time. The damage was minimal (I hope) and my girls thrived. So did I.

A decade sped by, and suddenly my husband and I realized that the babies we adored were babies no more. A meticulous planner by nature, surprisingly once again I made a snap decison. We would have another baby. And that's just what we did. Daughter number three joined her then twelve and ten year old sisters. Practice had certainly not made perfect, but experience had helped, and I felt as though with the third, I hit my stride as a mother. The next six years were busy ones, with three kids, each at a different point in her life, in the house and needing mom's attention. Then one was off to college, a quick two years later followed by her sister. But, no worries, the "baby" was still there. I was not put out to pasture.

So, how could it be that in a blink of an eye, I was waving goodbye to that baby, as she stood in front of her college dorm? For thirty, THIRTY!, years, there had been a child in my house. Someone who needed me. Someone who required my care and attention. Someone to mother. But with that wave goodbye, I was forced into a retirement I didn't want. There was no retirement party, no golden parachute, not even a gold watch. It was over without fanfare.

My husband, whom I still adore after almost forty years, and I quickly fell into a pleasant childless routine. We enjoy each other's company. We go to movies. We eat in restaurants. We do as we please. There's no one to wait up for. There's no one who needs a ride. There's no one who needs a meal. It's an easy life. I see friends, work part-time, keep up with chores. I'm sure my life appears to be quite ideal. What is not visible is the floundering, the wondering who I am if I'm not someone's mom. My daughters have grown into lovely adults. They are smart and competent and building lives and families of their own. Just as it should be. Athough I
expect they would say differently, they really do not need me any longer. They know that; I know that. My job is done. That career, motherhood, is finished. So what comes next? After all, being someone's mom is all I ever wanted.