Eight weeks and three days. That's what's left until our youngest son graduates high school. 59 days until he's free of getting up at 6:30 to go to his first class. Less than a month until he takes his final AP test. Less than two months left of high school track. Less than two weeks until he has an interview for a summer job. A month until awards night. Just over eight weeks of conversations with the coaches and teachers that have become friends, not just authorities. Those that have shaped him and helped him get ready for college. Less than four months until our youngest steps on campus to report for football practice, and then shortly there after his first college class, and the fraternity he can't wait to pledge.
Just over a month until our oldest walks across the stage at college. Resumes are being drafted, portfolios are being polished, Senior projects are being completed, and next steps are being made. The month will bring parties and events with the friends he made after he walked away from high school so eloquently and put the bullshit behind him. It also brings a ton of work but I promise it's worth it in the end. He'll walk the stage the day after the love of his life walks hers.
What does this mean for us as parents? It's the end of 17 years of elementary, middle and high school days and the beginning of another four years of education. We live two blocks from our kids grade school, where my husband went. Every time we drive by I think about the teachers that helped shape our boys. I think about the times the boys stopped in to see Mrs. Erickson and how she became more a friend than just another teacher. She helped our boys choose the paths they are on. We are one mile from their middle school where they found their love of art and chemistry, and two miles from the high school that polished their study habits and taught them who their true friends are, and where they spent days after day at practice, or in the weight room, to be ready for game day.
Our youngest came home with his cap and gown today and Shit.Got.Real. It's really 59 days. I remember 482 days. I remember 1,712 days. I remember 6,205 days. I remember countless practices, and games. I will remember baseball and football meetings and fundraisers galore. I'll be thankful for not having to go to conferences because frankly why go when your kids get A's. I'll remember being the homework Nazi and thank the Lord that I was, because when we write a check for $335.00 for a tuition bill that could have been $46,911 it will all make sense.
I hope our kids learned from us and realize that when we put our foot down, it was for a reason. It wasn't because we wanted them to hate us, or that we enjoyed the scowling at dinner. We were hard on them so they knew that actions brought consequences and you should never step over the line, unless you have a damn good reason.
Just four months until we are empty nesters. What does that mean? Smaller grocery bills, road trips to school and football games, not having to rush through dinner, and rediscovery. Movies just because. Date nights. Less laundry. And jars of peanut butter and gallons of milk that don't disappear.
Just 59 days until we are sitting in the gym at school watching our youngest walk across the stage with the kids we've watched grow up. Sixty days until we think what's next.
Wednesday, April 13, 2016
Monday, March 21, 2016
From the desk of all things random and why resolutions don't work for me
I don't believe in making annual resolutions. I cannot commit to something where I will inevitably fail. In years past, I did believe in them. I would give up soda (for a while); I would lose weight (still trying); I would be a better wife/mom/daughter (this can't be a once a year thing...it's a forever thing).
Instead of making a resolution, a couple of months ago I made a promise to myself that I would spend more time blogging. I even wrote a note in my calendar to get out two blogs per week. Sadly, I've failed at that too. In January I was able to tackle four blogs, February, I was hot and heavy with nine (even doing double blogs on two days!), and March is off to a really slow start.
I haven't found anything I really wanted to write about. Maybe I'm waiting for the warmer weather when the trials of our next door neighbor (affectionately referred to as Chainsaw) will be in full swing again...I cannot wait until State Fair parking. Or maybe it will be about the grandma and son team across our street. Will she ever go inside or is she doomed to live on that porch forever? Or how about the 80-something old man that wanders down the street with his walker, and promptly sits down in front of random houses and falls asleep. Will I write about the day I finally delete the 50 people I have kept on Facebook because it's easier to hide their feed than to worry about the drama that I feel will happen if I delete them? (In hindsight, these people really need to be deleted ASAP)...there is one person I so want to write about, but I haven't.
Perhaps I should write about the last three weeks of work. Collectively, a group of us, had finally had enough and had gone to management and encouraged a personnel change. After that person was finally gone, I had the honor of trying to get their laptop back in order. It amazes me the things that were never done, the documents that were sent out of the office for personal use and the continual lies that happened on a daily basis. I'll be the first one to say the office is a much more relaxed place and people are finally meshing.
Or maybe I will write an entire book on turning 46 and how menopause doesn't mean you are old. I remember my mom going through it in her early 40's. (I swear though there are days I think she is still going through it at 77). She was old when I was growing up. I was born when she was 32. When I was in high school, I thought my parents were dinosaurs. Here I am at 45, my husband turning 46 and our youngest son almost 18. I'm only a few years younger than my mom was when I was 18. How is that even possible?
I read quite a few blogs when I have time, and some of the things they write about are completely ridiculous...I love that. Seriously...like writing about a family road trip through the southwestern US and seeing giant zombie hands sticking out of the ground. Or how about a blog that focusing on being a mom with young kids...why am I still reading this? At 17 and 22, our kids no longer have colic or throw tantrums (well, sort of, but not really).
I want to get back to writing about things that make people happy, or make me think, or even things that piss me off, without having to worry about what someone's reaction may be. I want to write about funny things and ridiculous things and things that make you think what the hell. I will be writing about random things that may or may not hit home. Like pregnant hypochondriacs, close talkers and stupid pet tricks.
After sending out a group message on Facebook today to a group of girlfriends, I've realized how we are all in the same boat. These are women that come from all facets of my life. High school friends, college friends, friends I've gained from being involved with our kids sports teams, and even one that was once an enemy. They are all a good sounding board...something that I needed today. Normally I just run things by my husband, but for this, I needed a woman's opinion. What better than 20+ women's opinions. (For all you guys that read my blog, if you know whats good for you, do not comment on this paragraph...it won't end well for you).
As for resolutions, they may work for you. If they do, bravo. I wish they worked for me. Instead, I'll just keep getting the blogs out when I can, or when I'm inspired. Maybe I'll give up the soda, and get healthy once and for all. As for the wife/mom/daughter challenge...they all know what they have with me, and they know I'm here for them.
Instead of making a resolution, a couple of months ago I made a promise to myself that I would spend more time blogging. I even wrote a note in my calendar to get out two blogs per week. Sadly, I've failed at that too. In January I was able to tackle four blogs, February, I was hot and heavy with nine (even doing double blogs on two days!), and March is off to a really slow start.
I haven't found anything I really wanted to write about. Maybe I'm waiting for the warmer weather when the trials of our next door neighbor (affectionately referred to as Chainsaw) will be in full swing again...I cannot wait until State Fair parking. Or maybe it will be about the grandma and son team across our street. Will she ever go inside or is she doomed to live on that porch forever? Or how about the 80-something old man that wanders down the street with his walker, and promptly sits down in front of random houses and falls asleep. Will I write about the day I finally delete the 50 people I have kept on Facebook because it's easier to hide their feed than to worry about the drama that I feel will happen if I delete them? (In hindsight, these people really need to be deleted ASAP)...there is one person I so want to write about, but I haven't.
Perhaps I should write about the last three weeks of work. Collectively, a group of us, had finally had enough and had gone to management and encouraged a personnel change. After that person was finally gone, I had the honor of trying to get their laptop back in order. It amazes me the things that were never done, the documents that were sent out of the office for personal use and the continual lies that happened on a daily basis. I'll be the first one to say the office is a much more relaxed place and people are finally meshing.
Or maybe I will write an entire book on turning 46 and how menopause doesn't mean you are old. I remember my mom going through it in her early 40's. (I swear though there are days I think she is still going through it at 77). She was old when I was growing up. I was born when she was 32. When I was in high school, I thought my parents were dinosaurs. Here I am at 45, my husband turning 46 and our youngest son almost 18. I'm only a few years younger than my mom was when I was 18. How is that even possible?
I read quite a few blogs when I have time, and some of the things they write about are completely ridiculous...I love that. Seriously...like writing about a family road trip through the southwestern US and seeing giant zombie hands sticking out of the ground. Or how about a blog that focusing on being a mom with young kids...why am I still reading this? At 17 and 22, our kids no longer have colic or throw tantrums (well, sort of, but not really).
I want to get back to writing about things that make people happy, or make me think, or even things that piss me off, without having to worry about what someone's reaction may be. I want to write about funny things and ridiculous things and things that make you think what the hell. I will be writing about random things that may or may not hit home. Like pregnant hypochondriacs, close talkers and stupid pet tricks.
After sending out a group message on Facebook today to a group of girlfriends, I've realized how we are all in the same boat. These are women that come from all facets of my life. High school friends, college friends, friends I've gained from being involved with our kids sports teams, and even one that was once an enemy. They are all a good sounding board...something that I needed today. Normally I just run things by my husband, but for this, I needed a woman's opinion. What better than 20+ women's opinions. (For all you guys that read my blog, if you know whats good for you, do not comment on this paragraph...it won't end well for you).
As for resolutions, they may work for you. If they do, bravo. I wish they worked for me. Instead, I'll just keep getting the blogs out when I can, or when I'm inspired. Maybe I'll give up the soda, and get healthy once and for all. As for the wife/mom/daughter challenge...they all know what they have with me, and they know I'm here for them.
Saturday, March 12, 2016
It's The Little Things
On this second Saturday of March, I've come across a few things that have annoyed me over the last few weeks. In no particular order:
Why does our chocolate lab crap in an eight foot long straight line, instead of a neat little pile? Does he think that it's going to get him?
The guy at the grocery store that insists on helping you load your groceries into your car and then inevitably smashes your bread? This is after he spots you from across the parking lot and sprints towards you like a zombie is going after his last meal and shouts at you "LET.ME.HELP.YOU!!!!!" Um, no. Thanks. And even better when I say, don't worry, I've got it...he shames me and says "your on your own!"
The shitstorm that was left after our boss was angry-mobbed out the door. Honey, did you do any work at all? EVER? Let's not forget the lies to our faces, the tiptoeing out the door in the middle of the day, and the sheer disappointment we all had we weren't in the room when it happened.
Being invited to a shower for a second child, just because it's the opposite sex. (Note, this has happened multiple times over the course of a year.) Just do what we did...dress up little Josie in her brothers onesie and call it a day.
The mud season. Honestly, our backyard looks like a family of pigs have taken up residence. And our black lab finds it necessary to do hot laps around the garage only to sit next you and piss on the driveway.
The fact that I have unfollowed, but not unfriended, at least a dozen people on Facebook because of their continual bitching, moaning, and lying. What bothers me more is I am messed in the head because I think it's just better to unfollow them then to deal with the drama that will unfold with 90 days left before graduation.
Getting a phone call to do the shit jobs and apparently none of my siblings can do. Honestly, I'm really not into picking up 10,000 acorns for my brother.
The realization that it has taken me years and a chance encounter of a book synopsis that someone in my life is a narcissist.
The douchebag(s) that decided it's ok to call in bomb threats. I don't care if you are 16. You need help, and possibly an ass whooping.
Grocery shopping and not knowing what the hell to cook. You can only have spaghetti or burgers so many times in a month.
The fact that I want to write, I know I can write, and have the desire to write the next great novel, but my mind is mush and all my ideas suck.
By all means, feel free to share your list. I could use some spark.
Why does our chocolate lab crap in an eight foot long straight line, instead of a neat little pile? Does he think that it's going to get him?
The guy at the grocery store that insists on helping you load your groceries into your car and then inevitably smashes your bread? This is after he spots you from across the parking lot and sprints towards you like a zombie is going after his last meal and shouts at you "LET.ME.HELP.YOU!!!!!" Um, no. Thanks. And even better when I say, don't worry, I've got it...he shames me and says "your on your own!"
The shitstorm that was left after our boss was angry-mobbed out the door. Honey, did you do any work at all? EVER? Let's not forget the lies to our faces, the tiptoeing out the door in the middle of the day, and the sheer disappointment we all had we weren't in the room when it happened.
Being invited to a shower for a second child, just because it's the opposite sex. (Note, this has happened multiple times over the course of a year.) Just do what we did...dress up little Josie in her brothers onesie and call it a day.
The mud season. Honestly, our backyard looks like a family of pigs have taken up residence. And our black lab finds it necessary to do hot laps around the garage only to sit next you and piss on the driveway.
The fact that I have unfollowed, but not unfriended, at least a dozen people on Facebook because of their continual bitching, moaning, and lying. What bothers me more is I am messed in the head because I think it's just better to unfollow them then to deal with the drama that will unfold with 90 days left before graduation.
Getting a phone call to do the shit jobs and apparently none of my siblings can do. Honestly, I'm really not into picking up 10,000 acorns for my brother.
The douchebag(s) that decided it's ok to call in bomb threats. I don't care if you are 16. You need help, and possibly an ass whooping.
Grocery shopping and not knowing what the hell to cook. You can only have spaghetti or burgers so many times in a month.
The fact that I want to write, I know I can write, and have the desire to write the next great novel, but my mind is mush and all my ideas suck.
By all means, feel free to share your list. I could use some spark.
Tuesday, February 23, 2016
10 Facts My Children Should Know About Women
A good friend of mine posted a photo tonight, with this as the caption:
10 Facts Every Woman Should Know:
10 Facts Every Woman Should Know:
1. Everyone has rolls when they bend over.
2. When someone tells you that you're beautiful, believe them. They aren't lying.
3. Sometimes we all wake up with breath that could kill a goat.
4. For every woman unhappy with her stretch marks is another woman who wishes she had them.
5. You should definitely have more confidence. And if you saw yourself the way others see you, you would.
6. Don't look for a man to save you. Be able to save yourself.
7. It's okay to not love every part of your body....but you should.
8. We all have that one friend who seems to have it all together. That woman with the seemingly perfect life. Well, you might be that woman to someone else.
9. You should be a priority. Not an option, a last resort, or a backup plan.
10. You're a woman. That alone makes you pretty damn remarkable.
Everything on this list is spot on.
She has two daughters, the same ages as our boys. Both daughters are fiercely independent and often times challenge everything she taught them. We became fast friends in 2008 after being introduced by our oldest kids. We spent the evening carting around our kids, and at least fifteen more with the help of another couple. It was an epic night, spent crawling, walking and running (!) around a haunted woods.
I can only imagine what it's like to raise daughters, since my life has been surrounded with jeans wearing, football playing, hole digging and toilet missing boys. I grew up with three brothers and a tom-boy sister. My best friends were guys. I only wore dresses under protest, and my idea of a date night can often be cheap pizza and a movie. When my husband and I decided to have kids, we knew we were going to have boys...at least a pretty good idea we would have boys, since he came from a family whose boy/girl ratio is about 95%/5%. I thanked our lucky stars we had boys. I am confident I would not have made a good mom to girls.
With that being said, I would love to write the 10 facts that every man should know. But, I'm a realist, and I have no idea what a man should know, because even if I write them down, they wouldn't listen. I will, however, give you the 10 Facts My Children Should Know (About Women) as a supplement to the above list:
1. Yes, she might have rolls, but they make her, her. Never, ever, ever mention them. You are not perfect. If you claim to be perfect, have her call me, and I will break out every childhood secret that you thought I've forgotten.
2. Tell her she's beautiful, even when she's wearing your old sweatpants and a t-shirt from the hamper.
3. Truth. Sorry. If it's that bad, yours is probably worse.
4. You won't get this until you decide to have kids. Stretch marks, cesarean scars and saggy boobs are part of the package. If she has them it means she birthed your children. If she doesn't, it doesn't make her less of a woman. Make sure she knows that.
5. Be her biggest fan. Give her a pep talk when you know she needs to deal with a shitty boss or has a huge project due. And make sure you check in on her after you know she's done. It means you care.
6. She really doesn't need you. If dad and I raised you right, she's independent, won't take your shit and still choose you. Give her a reason to need you.
7. Even if she doesn't love every part of her body, you should.
8. If she talks about her seemingly perfect friend, don't agree with her. Cut her friend down even if you think her friend is more put-together than your wife/girlfriend. If you don't, it will end badly for you. I promise you that.
9. She is a priority. Yes, you can go out with your friends, but be certain to never question when she goes out with hers. Trust that no matter where she goes, she will come home to you.
10. She.Is.Remarkable. Period. Make sure she knows that.
I hope my children read this, but if they don't, I will read it to them. They may roll their eyes or pay attention to their cell phone instead. But I know that in my heart they already know this because of how my husband treats me.
❤
2. When someone tells you that you're beautiful, believe them. They aren't lying.
3. Sometimes we all wake up with breath that could kill a goat.
4. For every woman unhappy with her stretch marks is another woman who wishes she had them.
5. You should definitely have more confidence. And if you saw yourself the way others see you, you would.
6. Don't look for a man to save you. Be able to save yourself.
7. It's okay to not love every part of your body....but you should.
8. We all have that one friend who seems to have it all together. That woman with the seemingly perfect life. Well, you might be that woman to someone else.
9. You should be a priority. Not an option, a last resort, or a backup plan.
10. You're a woman. That alone makes you pretty damn remarkable.
Everything on this list is spot on.
She has two daughters, the same ages as our boys. Both daughters are fiercely independent and often times challenge everything she taught them. We became fast friends in 2008 after being introduced by our oldest kids. We spent the evening carting around our kids, and at least fifteen more with the help of another couple. It was an epic night, spent crawling, walking and running (!) around a haunted woods.
I can only imagine what it's like to raise daughters, since my life has been surrounded with jeans wearing, football playing, hole digging and toilet missing boys. I grew up with three brothers and a tom-boy sister. My best friends were guys. I only wore dresses under protest, and my idea of a date night can often be cheap pizza and a movie. When my husband and I decided to have kids, we knew we were going to have boys...at least a pretty good idea we would have boys, since he came from a family whose boy/girl ratio is about 95%/5%. I thanked our lucky stars we had boys. I am confident I would not have made a good mom to girls.
With that being said, I would love to write the 10 facts that every man should know. But, I'm a realist, and I have no idea what a man should know, because even if I write them down, they wouldn't listen. I will, however, give you the 10 Facts My Children Should Know (About Women) as a supplement to the above list:
1. Yes, she might have rolls, but they make her, her. Never, ever, ever mention them. You are not perfect. If you claim to be perfect, have her call me, and I will break out every childhood secret that you thought I've forgotten.
2. Tell her she's beautiful, even when she's wearing your old sweatpants and a t-shirt from the hamper.
3. Truth. Sorry. If it's that bad, yours is probably worse.
4. You won't get this until you decide to have kids. Stretch marks, cesarean scars and saggy boobs are part of the package. If she has them it means she birthed your children. If she doesn't, it doesn't make her less of a woman. Make sure she knows that.
5. Be her biggest fan. Give her a pep talk when you know she needs to deal with a shitty boss or has a huge project due. And make sure you check in on her after you know she's done. It means you care.
6. She really doesn't need you. If dad and I raised you right, she's independent, won't take your shit and still choose you. Give her a reason to need you.
7. Even if she doesn't love every part of her body, you should.
8. If she talks about her seemingly perfect friend, don't agree with her. Cut her friend down even if you think her friend is more put-together than your wife/girlfriend. If you don't, it will end badly for you. I promise you that.
9. She is a priority. Yes, you can go out with your friends, but be certain to never question when she goes out with hers. Trust that no matter where she goes, she will come home to you.
10. She.Is.Remarkable. Period. Make sure she knows that.
I hope my children read this, but if they don't, I will read it to them. They may roll their eyes or pay attention to their cell phone instead. But I know that in my heart they already know this because of how my husband treats me.
❤
Friday, February 19, 2016
The Things That Keep Me Up At Night
Every night it takes me a good two hours to fall asleep once I crawl into bed. My husband can, and does, fall asleep within minutes of his head hitting the pillow. I can't fall asleep that fast in bed, but put me in the truck and I'm like a baby snuggled up in her car seat being lulled to sleep by the movement of the drive.
I have been been guilty of taking three hour naps on a Sunday afternoon. Three.Hours. That's not a nap, that's half a nights sleep!
Some of the random things that have popped in my head of late while trying to fall asleep:
Wanting just one more chapter. I'm digging into a good book and I don't want to stop reading. If I do I know I can't pick it up again until after a full day of work.
Why do the dogs find it necessary to act like ninjas and sneak onto the bed and then lay directly on my ankle bone.
What's it going to be like when we are empty nesters? How will the grocery bills drop? Will I be able to cook for two instead of four? When will we see the kids? Will our oldest show our youngest the ropes, or will the youngest because a victim of being duct taped to the wall? Will our youngest analyze everyone he comes in contact with? Will he call home?
What will it be like on Friday night's in fall when we aren't at football games? What's it going to be like getting free time back?
Why is it that my mother plays favorites and is ok with not keeping in contact with all five of her children?
Once our kids finish college, how often will we see them?
Why do people only contact you when they need something? We have had someone reach out that pretty much thinks they are entitled, but haven't talked to us in months.
What's with teenage girls sticking their tongues out in every picture. (This doesn't keep me up at night, I just want to know why. You might as well add bathroom selfies and gangster poses to the mix.)
Why is it that no matter how settled I am in bed, inevitably I need to pee?
Is it possible to pick up a dream that you started the night before?
What will it take for me to get my teaching license?
Will anyone ever buy my photographs? What about my book?
Does my blog even matter?
Will this be a good year?
I need to try putting down the book at night and attempt to go to sleep at a decent hour. Honey, I promise I will try not to alligator roll and steal all the covers, if you promise to stop falling asleep so fast. And puppies, stop farting in bed. It isn't cool.
I have been been guilty of taking three hour naps on a Sunday afternoon. Three.Hours. That's not a nap, that's half a nights sleep!
Some of the random things that have popped in my head of late while trying to fall asleep:
Wanting just one more chapter. I'm digging into a good book and I don't want to stop reading. If I do I know I can't pick it up again until after a full day of work.
Why do the dogs find it necessary to act like ninjas and sneak onto the bed and then lay directly on my ankle bone.
What's it going to be like when we are empty nesters? How will the grocery bills drop? Will I be able to cook for two instead of four? When will we see the kids? Will our oldest show our youngest the ropes, or will the youngest because a victim of being duct taped to the wall? Will our youngest analyze everyone he comes in contact with? Will he call home?
What will it be like on Friday night's in fall when we aren't at football games? What's it going to be like getting free time back?
Why is it that my mother plays favorites and is ok with not keeping in contact with all five of her children?
Once our kids finish college, how often will we see them?
Why do people only contact you when they need something? We have had someone reach out that pretty much thinks they are entitled, but haven't talked to us in months.
What's with teenage girls sticking their tongues out in every picture. (This doesn't keep me up at night, I just want to know why. You might as well add bathroom selfies and gangster poses to the mix.)
Why is it that no matter how settled I am in bed, inevitably I need to pee?
Is it possible to pick up a dream that you started the night before?
What will it take for me to get my teaching license?
Will anyone ever buy my photographs? What about my book?
Does my blog even matter?
Will this be a good year?
I need to try putting down the book at night and attempt to go to sleep at a decent hour. Honey, I promise I will try not to alligator roll and steal all the covers, if you promise to stop falling asleep so fast. And puppies, stop farting in bed. It isn't cool.
Life As I Know It Is Changing
Yesterday was an eye opener. Our oldest texted and said he needed to order his cap and gown for his college commencement. It seems like just yesterday my husband and I were walking him to his first day of kindergarten. While commencement is a huge milestone, he will still have a couple of classes to finish, but he wants to walk with his friends. I am so proud that he's taken the initiative to make that happen. That's a big change from when he graduated from high school...he left for college without saying a word.
Couple this with knowing our youngest graduates high school in just 113 days and in just six short months will be knee deep in football practice getting ready for his freshman year of college, I'm teetering on the line between sheer panic and utter joy. I don't doubt that our youngest might leave for college with the same amount of fanfare. He's ready to get his life started and I think now as a senior is just going through the motions, wanting it to be June.
I've been getting LinkedIn requests from kids that are now graduating college. Kids that were at our kids birthday parties and those we took to the haunted woods. Kids that I've seen cry because they dropped their milk in the lunchroom, and kids that I've watched throw game winning touchdowns and those dancing at halftime. Kids that came to us for advice when they couldn't talk to their own parents. Now they are graduating and being unleashed into the world.
Where do the years go? We have friends our age with kids our kids ages and they are in the same boat. We also friends our age with kids that are toddlers, that have no idea what they are in for. We have friends whose kids have kids of their own. That one kind of freaks me out. So many are barely out of high school and are now responsible for someone other than themselves.
At 18 there was no way I would have been ready for kids. I was barely ready for college, and had a tough time taking care of myself. I met my husband at 18 and we married at 22; had one kid at 24 (him) and 23 (me), and one at 28 (both of us). Here we are 22 and almost 18 years later and the boys are getting ready to take on the world.
There were days I wasn't quite sure on getting married so young. Were we ready? Probably not, but we loved each other and that's all that mattered. When we had kids, I know we weren't ready, but we knew we wanted them and we wanted to be young parents.
So here I sit, just four months from my 46th birthday, and am thankful that we were/are young enough to enjoy our kids, and if the stars align, we will be able to enjoy our grandkids (boys..that's still years off, right?) God willing, there will be great-grandchildren in our futures as well.
I can't imagine what our friends with toddlers and grade school age children are going through now. I'm exhausted just thinking about it. I'm happy we had our kids young, it's not for everyone. Nor is having them in your mid to late thirties. In retrospect, those friends probably traveled more than we did in our twenties, and went out with friends who didn't have to get home to relieve the babysitter and those that had adventures. Our twenties and thirties were filled with diapers, helping with homework and trying to get them out of high school alive. We are now on the cusp of being able to travel and can now truly enjoy what life has to offer.
Life is changing. Every day I get a little older, and perhaps a littler wiser. I look forward to see what our kids future holds and those futures of our friends and their families. Life's too short to not enjoy it.
Couple this with knowing our youngest graduates high school in just 113 days and in just six short months will be knee deep in football practice getting ready for his freshman year of college, I'm teetering on the line between sheer panic and utter joy. I don't doubt that our youngest might leave for college with the same amount of fanfare. He's ready to get his life started and I think now as a senior is just going through the motions, wanting it to be June.
I've been getting LinkedIn requests from kids that are now graduating college. Kids that were at our kids birthday parties and those we took to the haunted woods. Kids that I've seen cry because they dropped their milk in the lunchroom, and kids that I've watched throw game winning touchdowns and those dancing at halftime. Kids that came to us for advice when they couldn't talk to their own parents. Now they are graduating and being unleashed into the world.
Where do the years go? We have friends our age with kids our kids ages and they are in the same boat. We also friends our age with kids that are toddlers, that have no idea what they are in for. We have friends whose kids have kids of their own. That one kind of freaks me out. So many are barely out of high school and are now responsible for someone other than themselves.
At 18 there was no way I would have been ready for kids. I was barely ready for college, and had a tough time taking care of myself. I met my husband at 18 and we married at 22; had one kid at 24 (him) and 23 (me), and one at 28 (both of us). Here we are 22 and almost 18 years later and the boys are getting ready to take on the world.
There were days I wasn't quite sure on getting married so young. Were we ready? Probably not, but we loved each other and that's all that mattered. When we had kids, I know we weren't ready, but we knew we wanted them and we wanted to be young parents.
So here I sit, just four months from my 46th birthday, and am thankful that we were/are young enough to enjoy our kids, and if the stars align, we will be able to enjoy our grandkids (boys..that's still years off, right?) God willing, there will be great-grandchildren in our futures as well.
I can't imagine what our friends with toddlers and grade school age children are going through now. I'm exhausted just thinking about it. I'm happy we had our kids young, it's not for everyone. Nor is having them in your mid to late thirties. In retrospect, those friends probably traveled more than we did in our twenties, and went out with friends who didn't have to get home to relieve the babysitter and those that had adventures. Our twenties and thirties were filled with diapers, helping with homework and trying to get them out of high school alive. We are now on the cusp of being able to travel and can now truly enjoy what life has to offer.
Life is changing. Every day I get a little older, and perhaps a littler wiser. I look forward to see what our kids future holds and those futures of our friends and their families. Life's too short to not enjoy it.
Tuesday, February 16, 2016
Facebook Friends vs Real Friends: To Delete or Not
For the better part of nine years, I have been active on Facebook. I joined way back when in an effort to keep an eye on my kids. The oldest wanted one after a brief stint with MySpace, and my only caveat was that he add me as a friend, and at the time get access to his password. It was so new that I was like many parents and wanted to keep an eye on what he was posting, and what his friends were posting. I did the same thing for our youngest.
As time progressed, I stopped checking in, because frankly, my husband and I raised pretty good kids and they didn't post things that would make their grandmothers cringe, nor that would prevent college coaches from recruiting them.
I always thought having 350+ friends was pretty impressive. Many, many students requested me because of the thousands of pictures I would take a games. Others requested me because I was friends with their parents, or they were friends with our kids. Eveyone wanted to see the pictures.
I have spent countless hours online posting pictures Thursday nights, Friday nights and some Saturday's. I've edited and tagged player after player, parent after parent, grandparent after grandparent.
Once the season ended last fall, I continued to keep people informed. Much to my dismay, no one really gave a shit. The season was over and nothing will matter until next season. Last month, I started deleting. Kids, parents, grandparents that I have had virtually no interaction with. At first, I was surprised that I could so easily delete. I've had these people on my friends list for years, but those that have been deleted were never real friends. They never even questioned why they can't access pictures any more. Maybe they used me as a resource. The ones I've kept, say thank you, appreciate dedication, and laugh at my stupid jokes and posts.
The rest of my list has been colleagues that I trust with my info, friends that I've reconnected with from high school, and family. I'm finding myself unfollowing, but not unfriending, because of the drama that it will cause. Maybe I'm just projecting and those people won't even notice if I delete them.
What I can't figure out is why some of the people I'm connected with find it necessary to have thousands of friends. How is that even possible when you are not famous? Does everyone on your list really care when you go to the grocery store or what you are making for dinner? Or are they like me and just keep you on their list for the sheer enjoyment of the bullshit that continually comes out of your mouth? Thus the reason for unfollowing.
Better yet, why do I even care if someone unfollows or unfollows me? Why do I care if someone has 2,000 friends? That just sounds unnecessarily exhausting. I'm not in high school. I don't need to be liked or need the validation of having 2,000 friends. Who really cares? True friends know the real me and actually pick up the phone and call or stop by. I like to keep up with friends from years past, but have limited that list too. I love being connected to old colleagues that are still friends. And parents from the boys school that go through that same things we go through. So many are real friends. Those that aren't, have been or will be deleted.
It shouldn't matter if people like my photography, or follow my blog or bought my book. If you like it, follow the page or buy a picture. Read the blog. Get the book. If you don't, by all means, delete me. I do it all because I love it. But you'll have to be a very special person to get me to do something for you because I have been burned too many times. If I have learned anything in the last six months, I certainly will not do it for free anymore. If you don't want to know about our kids getting into a great college, or something great I think they've done, please, delete me.
Maybe my husband has it right. 23 friends, and no guilt for not adding relatives.
Consider yourself lucky if you are still getting my posts. If you don't, I'm ok if you delete me.
As time progressed, I stopped checking in, because frankly, my husband and I raised pretty good kids and they didn't post things that would make their grandmothers cringe, nor that would prevent college coaches from recruiting them.
I always thought having 350+ friends was pretty impressive. Many, many students requested me because of the thousands of pictures I would take a games. Others requested me because I was friends with their parents, or they were friends with our kids. Eveyone wanted to see the pictures.
I have spent countless hours online posting pictures Thursday nights, Friday nights and some Saturday's. I've edited and tagged player after player, parent after parent, grandparent after grandparent.
Once the season ended last fall, I continued to keep people informed. Much to my dismay, no one really gave a shit. The season was over and nothing will matter until next season. Last month, I started deleting. Kids, parents, grandparents that I have had virtually no interaction with. At first, I was surprised that I could so easily delete. I've had these people on my friends list for years, but those that have been deleted were never real friends. They never even questioned why they can't access pictures any more. Maybe they used me as a resource. The ones I've kept, say thank you, appreciate dedication, and laugh at my stupid jokes and posts.
The rest of my list has been colleagues that I trust with my info, friends that I've reconnected with from high school, and family. I'm finding myself unfollowing, but not unfriending, because of the drama that it will cause. Maybe I'm just projecting and those people won't even notice if I delete them.
What I can't figure out is why some of the people I'm connected with find it necessary to have thousands of friends. How is that even possible when you are not famous? Does everyone on your list really care when you go to the grocery store or what you are making for dinner? Or are they like me and just keep you on their list for the sheer enjoyment of the bullshit that continually comes out of your mouth? Thus the reason for unfollowing.
Better yet, why do I even care if someone unfollows or unfollows me? Why do I care if someone has 2,000 friends? That just sounds unnecessarily exhausting. I'm not in high school. I don't need to be liked or need the validation of having 2,000 friends. Who really cares? True friends know the real me and actually pick up the phone and call or stop by. I like to keep up with friends from years past, but have limited that list too. I love being connected to old colleagues that are still friends. And parents from the boys school that go through that same things we go through. So many are real friends. Those that aren't, have been or will be deleted.
It shouldn't matter if people like my photography, or follow my blog or bought my book. If you like it, follow the page or buy a picture. Read the blog. Get the book. If you don't, by all means, delete me. I do it all because I love it. But you'll have to be a very special person to get me to do something for you because I have been burned too many times. If I have learned anything in the last six months, I certainly will not do it for free anymore. If you don't want to know about our kids getting into a great college, or something great I think they've done, please, delete me.
Maybe my husband has it right. 23 friends, and no guilt for not adding relatives.
Consider yourself lucky if you are still getting my posts. If you don't, I'm ok if you delete me.
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