When our kids were little, like most kids, they got too much candy for Easter. Hyperactive little munchkins anyway, right? They’d gobble some, and when they slowed down, we’d put the rest away for later. Usually, there was part or most of the chocolate Easter bunny left over. Into the fridge it goes.
Then, a conscientious parent would do their parental duty to save the child from the obesity epidemic (and a potentially annoying sugar buzz): sneak into the kitchen when the kid is busy watching TV, and snap a piece of that Easter Bunny’s ears right off for a quick snack. As long as you avoid easily identifiable parts and don’t suddenly behead a previously intact bunny torso, nobody’s any the wiser.
My daughter is a long ways away–and going through some stressful times. Nothing she can’t handle, and nothing that’s not pretty much normal for a kid who’s moved out of the house for the time. The kind of stuff every adult has to deal with at some point or another.
I’m talking to my husband at dinner.
“I know she’s going to be okay, but I hate to see her struggle. When she was at home, I could make things easier for her. I can’t do much for her now. I want to make it go away for her…”
Grabbed some pics from the video my daughter sent me of her first place. It made me happy to see what she’s doing and all, and to see a full fridge. Even if a good half of the contents is pop. Continue reading Kid’s First Apartment Pics
With my daughter having moved far off, a couple people have asked me if she’s looking for work. I’m sure they think I’m mental when I tell them I have no idea whatsoever, have not asked–and am not planning on asking.
It’s not because it would upset her, or be a touchy subject somehow. She’s straightforward, and doesn’t have issues with the idea I care about how she’s doing. She’s honest and direct when I question her. It’s really a lot simpler than that. Continue reading Why I don’t Meddle…
It was harder than I thought. I figured I’m not over-involved with my kids, so empty nest would be no sweat. It’s been coming and going in waves. She’s about 12 hours away now, which is probably the hardest part. If she could come over every week for a visit or something, I don’t think it would feel the same. I’d probably have some sentimental moments, but it wouldn’t feel quite so hard.
I’ve done this before and it was hard, but in a totally different way. The other kid always steeled herself for moving out by complete disconnect emotionally before the fact for months. It hurt like Hell, but a totally different type of pain.
I’m happy for her, though, because she wants to live a grown up life and be on her own now, and I want for her to thrive. She’s kind, smart and funny, and she’s sane and sensible. She knows what boundaries are and how to love. I’ve given her the best start I knew how to, and I hope it will be enough to smooth her path.
That’s where my head and heart is at today: wishing my baby the best as she moves into her new life. That was then…this is now.