great read!


The girl turned 20.

This isn’t real.

I remember thinking it was annoying when my parents would start conversations with “when you were little.”

Now I get it. I look at my grown children and I still see them in their matching Easter outfits when she was three and he was just shy of his second birthday. (The girl refers to the boy’s Easter bunny shorts with carrot suspenders as his “beat-me-up” outfit – but I digress.)

And they don’t get it. And they find it annoying.

It’s just hard for me to think of them as grown ups. They’re my children.

The girl went out in the city with a group of friends to celebrate her birthday. The hubby “couldn’t believe” I would allow it. How could I stop her? I did the same thing in my twenties. Of course I didn’t wear a short dress and 4-inch heels…

View original post 205 more words


i think this all the time, when did i turn into my mother!


Really – when did I turn into my mother? 

When I was in college, as much as I loved going home I’d also dread the inevitable curfew. For God’s sake, I didn’t have a curfew at school. Hell, my parents had no idea where I was or who I was with or what time I got in. 

Then I’d come home for winter break or summer break and I’d have to answer to them each time I left the house.

And so what goes around comes around. It’s my turn.

The boy and the girl are home for winter break. I love having them home: the sounds of dueling guitars emanating from their bedrooms; the “he’s weird” or “she’s annoying” comments; sitting down at the dinner table and just talking to them.

Then, eventually, they leave the house and it happens: “Where are you going?” “What time are you going…

View original post 103 more words