Bittersweet too small a word for when fierce pride and immeasurable joy crash into inconsolable sadness. But it’s all I’ve got for now. Congratulations, Graduates.
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For my sixth birthday, my grandmother bought me an Olivetti typewriter. I rolled in a sheet and began what would become a daily habit: writing rules for my adult self to follow. (Rule #4 - Don’t yell at your kids! I yelled at future me).
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My eldest is entering her senior year and going on college tours. Recently she joined her friend whose dad offered to bring her with (thank you, C!). They came back with mixed reviews. I asked C what he thought the differences were in our daughters. That’s easy, he laughed.
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At the optometrist’s this week, I was tested on a new machine. I sat with my eye against a round squishy rubber thingy with a hole in the middle. Inside were three lights: red, blue and green. I got excited - a game! But this was trickier than I thought.
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On the Fourth we went to over to Kate and Tim's for a BBQ. There was great food, a generous bar, and a collection of fun and fascinating people. I brought my no-fail banana pudding and added it to the dessert table. As a guest brought a spoonful to their mouth, they looked up.
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It’s summertime, which means I am spending more time with my kids, which is sometimes awesome and sometimes awful, which pretty much sums up my entire parenting experience, which reminds me why parenting sucks.
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The decision to stop working, like all of the decisions I make, was completely selfish. I didn’t think it would make life any better for my kids. In fact, I am aware of studies that show that being a stay-at-home mom might actually do them harm, resulting in a son who is a bit of a schmuck. Pishy caca.
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Bittersweet too small a word for when fierce pride and immeasurable joy crash into inconsolable sadness. But it’s all I’ve got for now. Congratulations, Graduates.