The Weekend Away

I recently went away with some of my girlfriends for the weekend. We returned to our college to relive our glory days and visit our old haunts. It was our first trip back in 6 years, our last visit was pre- kids but post ability to hold our liquor, and we needed the time to recover. This time around we are all in our late-ish 30's, 2 -3 kids deep, and practically born again drinkers. Our hotel this time, was the new Diamond Hotel in downtown and the pricetag reflected our age. No longer, did we need to stay at the aging and dirty Thunderbird Lodge...this time we were high rollers in Chico. After checking in, we immediately went down to the restaurant to grab a cocktail. And, as often happens when friends get together, one drink turns to six and your night is on its way. We grabbed a bite at the new sushi joint and were feeling pretty great about ourselves, when some college boys asked us if we wanted to join their table. After eating what was clearly not enough food to sustain the liquor, we headed out to our favorite bars. I wish I could say that I felt like I was in college again....but I didnt. I felt like I was viewing my college through adult eyes. Trying to remember what it was like to be that young.  After a few drinks (2 of them spilled on laps) I stopped to get pizza at the take out pizza window. I waited in line for at least 10 minutes with 20 other intoxicated people, all of whom were younger than me. We finished the night at Rileys, the most popular bar, but instead of grabbing drinks and hopping up on the bar to dance, we grabbed a booth and didnt move until last call. Yes, Friday night went exactly as it did almost 20 years ago, except that we knew nobody and wouldnt recover as quickly. Thankfully, we were able to spend the next day strolling through town and campus. We visited our old dorms, our old houses and our sorority house. We marveled at what a beautiful campus it was and wished that we had spent more time appreciating and exploring it. Saturday night was dinner and a drink and catching up with old, dear friends. We fell into bed early, so happy to not be spinning. I fully expected to feel like I was in college again, and that couldnt have been further from what I felt. I guess there is that part of you that feels ageless, like it was just yesterday you were up on that bar dancing like nobody was watching. You feel so connected to that person, that its hard to believe the image you see reflected in mirrors and windows. I think she is still there, but she is older, wiser and more sober now. She knows that she has 2 children to take care of the second she gets home. She has had so much more life and seen the world. And even though, she is so happy to be where she is, she misses that time in life. A time where you never had more than 20.00 in your pocket; where your biggest concern was what to wear; where school was something to be tolerated until you could get back to your friends and find out the absolute latest. I think most especially its the carefree living, the dancing til dark, sleeping til noon, not caring about what you eat, kind of life that can only be called your college years.

What Is This

I am saddened by the events at the Boston Marathon today and I am frightened for where we are headed. It seems that tragedy after tragedy is taking place in our schools and on our streets and in our homes. I remember my mom talking years ago about the time she grew up in, "an innocent time" she called it and I would laugh and turn the volume up on my dr dre tape. And even though my adolescent years may not have been as innocent as my mothers, they were nothing like they are today. I dont remember being afraid to go to school or the mall or on a plane. It never occurred to me to be afraid, because bad things didn't happen the way they do today. I'm sure there were accidents and incidents, but not to the degree that we hear about today. I am truly frightened to send my kids to school. I am frightened to go to large public places like movie theaters and sporting events. This isn't the kind of world I want my children growing up in. I fear for their safety, their future and for the loss of innocence they will feel at a much younger age than I.

From Top to Bottom and back again

Cleaning my house is an all day every day chore. I am constantly cleaning, straightening, dusting, vacuuming, wiping pee off the floor, doing laundry, putting toys away and by the time I finish...its a mess again. At this point Im sure you are imagining that I live in a grand home or that I have OCD. You would only be correct on the second part. I HATE clutter and messes and with 2 kids and a dog..thats exactly what you get. I rarely have time to clean the entire house, so I clean as I go. And as I mentioned before, by the time I get to the last room...the first room is dirty again. Bread crumbs from the toaster, dog hair on the floor, baby spit up on the toys, pee on the toilet seat and floor, sticky finger marks on the table...it never ends. At this point, there is so much pledge and lacquer on my dining table that I am convinced it will go up in flames if I light so much as a candle near it. I know people say, "spend less time cleaning and more time playing" but I'm wondering what these people's homes must look like. Dishes piled in the sink? Dirty laundry spilling out of the baskets? Floors filled with crumbs and pieces of food? I've had dinner in a home like this before and it was so disgusting, that I sat paralyzed on a chair unable to help out with the meal as I would typically offer. When my son announced that he needed to poop, as he often does in new places..I panicked. I wondered if I would be able to sanitize the toilet seat with the Purell in my purse. And briefly wondered if anyone would think it strange if I ran him home for a quick shower before dinner. Needless to say, after my meal glued to the chair, we made a hasty exit. Upon arriving home we turned the hose on our son. No, not really, but we showered and bathed him until his skin had moved well beyond the pruney stage and into that soggy, bloated stage.
We used to have a cleaning lady, who would dust every pane on our shutters. She was a dream in that way. In other ways...not so much. After the birth of my first child, when I was headed back to work part time, she told me in her thick polish accent "I dont like...no good for baby".  Little did she realize that my staying home was the end of her paycheck. Once I quit, my husband...a man tight with a dollar, announced that I was our new cleaning lady. And boy do I take my job seriously. Sure I dont get paid, but some day when my children tell me that I ruined their childhood by spending so much time cleaning..I will look into their freshly cleaned faces, glancing at their stain free clothes, standing on a gleaming kitchen floor and that will be payment enough. Until I get their therapy bills...

a recent loss

I read recently of the sudden passing of a woman I went to middle school with. Although I didn't know her well, my best friend was friends with her throughout the years. I had become friends with her on facebook, but as it often happens, we had never exchanged a post or message. I did, however, enjoy seeing pictures of her beautiful family. She was the proud mother of 3 young children and often posted pictures and updates. I feel such an overwhelming sadness for her family. Someone your own age, at the same stage in life, isn't supposed to die suddenly in their sleep. I keep replaying in my head what her children must be going through. Not because I'm morbid, but because it is one of my greatest fears. I couldn't live if something happened to my children, but I also fear something happening to me and not being able to watch them grow. Worrying about who would love them the same way I do. Who would raise them to be strong, trustworthy, honest, confident, loving young men. Who would make sure that they ate the right foods and did their homework and played outside. Its something nobody wants to think about...which is why this tragedy brings so much emotion to the surface. I pray that her husband is able to navigate through this time so that he can heal and help his children to heal. I pray that her older children can carry the memories of their mother in their heart and be able to replay them in their minds when they need comfort. I pray that they can remember every nuance of her face and voice, and find her in themselves as they grow. I pray that they tell stories about their mom, so that her youngest son feels like he remembers her. I pray that they learn the strength and depth of her love, when they welcome their own children. I pray that their futures will serve as a tribute to their mother and that the traits that she instilled in them for these few short years, will stay with them always. I pray that they find laughter again and that this experience will not lead them down dark roads, but only through a dark tunnel where they can find light on the other end.