All By Myself

When I was younger, I couldn't stand being alone. Naturally social (as evidenced by the fact I need to write about every aspect of my life), I always preferred the company of other homo sapiens to heading off to sunbathe on Walden Pond. Maybe I had a desperate need for approval and acceptance. Or maybe it was just a Hollywood induced fear of a masked intruder making his way into my bedroom. Whatever the motivation, I never found a reason to appreciate the joy of solitude.

How times have changed.

When I got the late phone call that my husband had been asked to join his boss for a dinner meeting, I tried to hide my excitement. Don't get me wrong. I love my husband. I love having dinner with him. But the Bulls game was on. My People magazine was waiting. Cooking would be limited to heating up some leftover pizza. C'mon. Who wouldn't rush home for that?

I was halfway through my pizza when I heard the garage door. What the . . .? I wasn't close to being ready to share my space. It wasn't even halftime. Even worse, I still had a secret doughnut to ingest. (Don't worry, I found a way to make that happen). It all slipped away so quickly. My evening alone had ended after a measly hour and a half. Oh, well. I put on a happy face and shared the couch (and the rest of the game) with my hubby. It seemed fitting that the Bulls blew a twelve point lead. But I'll survive. I haven't even opened my People and I still have half a pizza in the freezer. Just in case I get another one of those phone calls.

What I Should Have Said

Today I went to a baby shower. It's always fun to see the excitement and anticipation on the faces of the prospective parents. The afternoon followed the usual protocol. Lots of food, a few goofy games and opening up the adorably decorated loot. Surrounded by friends and family the young couple radiated the same joy I remember feeling twenty-five years ago. I envied them for that if not the challenges they have in front of them.

At each place setting, next to the cleverly designed party favors, were note cards that asked each guest for words of advice for the new parents. It was clearly too late to encourage them to reconsider. And, despite some recent bumpy times with both my kids, I wouldn't trade my years of mothering them for anything. But what words of wisdom could I put down on that piece of paper? What could I possibly say to enlighten them about what they were getting themselves into without scaring them half to death? What exactly had I learned from more than two decades of parenting?

Naturally, I took the coward's way out writing some innocuous hints like 'make time for each other', 'take lots of photos and videos' and 'write everything in a baby book because it'll all be forgotten if you don't'. What I should have said was, 'You won't believe how much your life is going to change. You're going to love this new, little person more than you've ever believed you could love anything in this world so don't get too crazy if the laundry's not done or the house is a wreck. The time you have with your precious baby will be over in a flash. All too soon he'll be holed up in his room, sitting at his computer with headphones on, completely tuning you out. So enjoy being the center of someone's universe. Appreciate every minute of it. It's a great ride while it lasts.'

Yeah. That's what I should have said.

Engaging My Inner Lioness

When your kids are in crisis, it doesn't matter if they're four or twenty-four. There's nothing you wouldn't do to take away their pain; to help them climb out of the hole they've dug themselves into. Even if you do manage to squelch that initial instinct to jump in and take over, you often can't help caving in the end. It must have something to do with that damn umbilical cord. Even after it's cut, it's still there, invisibly tugging you in the direction of that piece of your body that's now walking around on its own two feet.

I have to constantly remind myself that my "kids" are now adults. They should be able (and I should encourage them) to handle difficulties on their own. It's not as if they don't do their best to keep me in line. Those innocent eyes that once looked to me to make it all better have been replaced by icy looks that clearly say 'Don't even think about it'. Even if they want my help; even if they're going down for the third time, they're loath to let me in on it.

So, we lionesses have to be vigilant. We have to figure out how to separate the serious from the trivial. We can't go around roaring about everything. Because there will be times when you know you have to step in. There will be times when you feel in the deepest part of your gut that if you don't do something; if you don't help your child stop what they're doing/who they're seeing, something bad is going to happen. There will be times you just have to get in their face and stay there, shining a big fat light in their eyes until they finally see it.

This is one of those times.

Together Alone

Last night my husband and I had the house to ourselves. Not such an unusual thing these days, what with one of our kids gone and the other one making herself scarce as much as humanly possible. So I quickly changed into my French Maid outfit and we . . . Just kidding. Of course I did no such thing. Who do you think we are? Brad and Angie? No, we took advantage of our time alone in the way that all long-time married people will understand. I sat on the deck happily devouring my latest issue of People Magazine while he dutifully mowed the lawn.

Okay, so we're not the most romantic couple on the planet. Years living apart for weeks at a time may have made us a little too self-reliant; a little too independent. It seems as if we're always heading in different directions, hampered by opposing body clocks and work schedules. When he's in the mood to go out to dinner and a movie, I have to work. When I call to invite him to meet me for lunch, he's in the middle of creating a spreadsheet. Now that we don't have to worry about taking care of two kids, you would think carving out time to be a couple would be a lot easier. You would think.

I did tear myself away from the latest Royal Wedding update to fix us a delicious (not to mention healthy) grilled chicken and salad dinner, which seemed to make him pretty darn happy. We sat on the deck, sharing the events of the day as we admired his lawn mowing artistry. After that, we took a long walk around the neighborhood, commenting on everyone's landscaping skills or lack thereof. Once home, we capped off the evening by firing up the DVR and enjoying the latest episode of The Office.

It may not be everyone's idea of romance. But it works for us.

Mother's Day Treasures

When my kids were little, I knew I would get thoughtful gifts for Mother's Day I'd like to say that my husband took them by their little hands every year and lovingly helped them craft keepsakes for me but more often than not, it was their teachers. Many of my most cherished gifts were created in the classroom. Aprons with tiny hand prints, books with charmingly misspelled words, necklaces made out of various pasta shapes; I have my children's elementary teachers to thank for all of them.

As they got older, their dad's reminders (and, I suspect, his financial subsidies) assured me of a steady stream of flowers and trinkets bought and wrapped at the last minute. They were appreciated but I missed the thought and effort that had gone into their art projects. But I held out hope that some day, without a teacher or father to pressure them, they would again put a little time and energy into Mother's Day.

Today, I got my wish.

It didn't start well. When I woke up, I was alone. Not that I minded. I settled in with the paper and a freshly baked croissant (thank you, Trader Joes). So much for breakfast in bed. Before long, my daughter arrived with a beautiful card and an even more beautiful hand-written note. That wasn't such a surprise. For some time, she's been a thoughtful, creative gift-giver. She's also made it clear that her intention is to make me cry with each card she presents me.

The real shocker was my son. I knew he had been making progress when it came to holidays; i.e. actually being aware of them. Last Christmas he did a great job, choosing thoughtful, useful gifts for the entire family. But, today, he outdid himself by picking up a book called "What I Love About You" and filling in every page with loving, as well as, hilarious commentary. I loved it more than I've loved any gift since that macaroni necklace.

So, here's to the moms who are still waiting for their kids to appreciate them. I'm here to tell you to hang in there. It's gonna happen. It may take awhile but when it does, I promise you it's gonna feel really good.

Guess Who's Coming to Dinner?

After more than twenty years of feeding a person on a regular basis, you would think that his arrival for yet another meal would be no big deal. You would be wrong. Today, my son is coming over for dinner. It's not a holiday and it's no one's birthday and he's coming for dinner. Okay, I did entice him by dangling the promise of one of his favorite meals. I know he loves us but it never hurts to sweeten the pot.

Still, it's weird hosting your kid when a couple of months ago he was helping himself to anything you were silly enough to leave in the fridge. Oh, wait, he still does that. But it does feel strange to see him on the other side of the door, standing there with dessert in his hands. Don't get me wrong. It's nice. But it's weird.

I'm sure I'll get used to this new phase of our relationship. I've already accepted the fact that he's gone (although he did camp out on our couch this week for one night). I know I'll eventually clean out his room and turn it into something else. Exercise room, anyone? But, right now, I'm not there yet. It's still just a little weird.