A Box Full of Love

While cleaning our bedroom the other day, I came across a wooden box my sister had made for me years ago.  In it were several writing assignments from school my then young sons completed.  Most mothers I know have a secret, hidden stash of their children’s art and writings.  I have more than one stash, I have to admit.  And I have found that you have to be in the right frame of mind to go through the stashes.  On one hand, it’s emotional to see their rudimentary art and writing and to recall that time when they were so young, innocent and impressionable.  It’s also a reminder of how far I have come as their mother and them, as young men.

"My mom sese (says) hige (hi) to me win (when) I come home from school.
My dog is grat (great). My bom (boom) box is cool."

"I love my mom because we go to the pool and it is fun.  Garrett."

Today is Valentine’s Day, and on it, I celebrate the three loves of my life.  When my boys were young, I would leave special treats on the table for them to find at breakfast, before heading to school.  Now that they are out of the house, I still send them little things to let them know they are and always will be “My Valentine.”  

Whole Foods- My Achilles Heel

When the manchild lived at home, I dreamed of a time I could cut the exotic Indian or Moroccan recipes out of my Food Network magazine and prepare them without preparing a second meal. I had visions of kale, spinach and quinoa and halibut prepared in parchment paper. The manchild would have had none of that.

So when he went to school, leaving us empty nesters, I began cooking the types of food I only fantasized about. But, often times, I would need an odd spice or ingredient, so I would find myself heading to my favorite grocery store, Whole Foods.

I’d love to be one of those people who show up with their piles of reusable grocery bags and do all my shopping there. But I’m not cool enough, and I’m definitely not rich enough. I’ll go there for a few things, and I’ll be damned if I don’t spend $100 every time!

My first stop is always produce. It’s a cornucopia of the exotic and weird… not as much as it use to be, but still intriguing. My out of control bill starts in this section as I pick up heirloom tomatoes, dozens of shallots and maybe some lemongrass. I am hypnotized by the huge lemons, shiny zucchini and Japanese eggplant.

Next is the oil and vinegar aisle: olive oil, extra virgin olive oil, sherry vinegar, dark aged balsamic vinegar, grapeseed oil… my mind is blown! I want one of everything.  But I settle for a balsamic glaze that will go nicely on my heirloom tomatoes (always thinking!)

As my cart rounds the corner, I come up on the pasta and rice aisle. I am lucky to make it out of this section with only a bottle of organic pasta sauce and some Arborio rice.

And then I find the spice section. In it are spices I’ve only read about, and they find their way into my cart:  saffron, Herbs de Provence and the Indian spice I came for, Garam Masala, which was the only thing I “needed.”

I manage to stay away from the other aisles, but around the corner is the seafood section. There’s fish fillets, whole fish, Dungeness crab, oysters and squid. I decide that little neck clams sound good and fresh caught shrimp are on sale.

And then comes the bread and cheese section. I can’t leave without a hunk of authentic Parmesan Reggiano and Chevre (goat cheese).

Uh Oh… there’s the salad and hot bar, and I’m starving. I need a nice big salad for lunch and load up in my environmentally-friendly to-go container.

Time to check out. Yes, the organic dark chocolate at the register looks good, but I had a feeling my Whole Foods budget was blown.

I wasn’t wrong but I sure did enjoy the little neck clams with a saffron broth!

Growing Pains

Even though it’s been a while, I do remember what it’s like to be 19. I was in college, living by my own rules. I did what I wanted, when I wanted without any road blocks….until I would go home for breaks. After living for months by my rules, I was subject once again to my parents’ rules. I had to let them know where I was, what time I’d be home, and that didn’t sit well with my newly found and loved college freedom. In fact, I only spent one summer at home when I was in college. Rather than return home to rules, I stayed at school, worked and supported myself during those breaks.

Fast forward 30 years. We have a 19 year old college student who has enjoyed his away-at-college freedom. The Christmas break is the longest he’s been home since going away to school and everyone is having some growing pains, especially when it comes to navigating his desire for complete freedom, and our need to have some semblance of rules.

This game of tug-of-war doesn’t surprise me.

He’s old enough to vote and join the military, but I still worry about him. I worry about him getting into a car accident every time he leaves the house. I worry that one wrong decision will be life-impacting. I worry that his heart will get broken or that he will break mine.

It’s hard to let go.

We don’t know everything he does or every decision he makes while he’s away from us at school. We hope and pray that we have laid the foundation for good decision making and responsible behavior.

Being away at school has allowed him to manage freedom and balance what he wants to do verses what he needs to do. Coming home allows him to touch base with the values we spent 18 years instilling. He may not like being reminded that he still answers to us, but it’s part of the process and part of the growing pains of him breaking free and us letting him.

The Talk

In a few weeks, my oldest child will be a college graduate. I blinked, and four and a half years has passed. Like all parents of college graduates, we are extremely proud of him. He didn't enter college with the HOPE scholarship, but he worked hard and as soon as he was eligible, he received the HOPE and kept it through the remaining years. In addition to going to school full time, he worked, sometimes upwards of 30 plus hours per week. He has lived on his own since he was a freshman so he’s had to learn how to manage the freedom that brings. He also had to learn to manage a checking account, how to pay bills and how to get along with roommates. He’s learned a lot of the valuable lessons we hoped he would over the past years. He’s a stable, mature and hardworking young man.

Now it’s time to have The Talk.

Along with that college degree comes new financial responsibilities. By being out of school, he’s not considered a dependent anymore. Along the way, we have made him responsible for more and more of his expenses from cell phone to car insurance and car payment. Slowly and methodically, we cut the financial cord. Now, it’s time to have the initial conversation of “financial freedom from the parents.”

I know he doesn’t want to have this conversation. His disposable income will be decreased, and paying for things like rent and student loans isn’t as much fun as hitting Taco Mac and getting an advanced Brewniversity degree.

When I graduated college, I didn’t have a job. I moved into an apartment in Denver with my best friend and a deadline. My dad offered to support me for a set amount of time while I found a job. But he made it quite clear that the gravy train had an end-date, and I became a very motivated job seeker.

I know we need to have the same grace with my son as he enters the “real world.” But we need to have a plan and in order to have a plan, we need to have The Talk.

Congratulations to my son and to all the December, 2014 graduates! 

Tupperware and Wine Glasses

The landscape of your home changes when children are no longer living at home. It’s quieter and cleaner. Every room that was touched by your child when he was living there is dramatically changed when he is gone.

My youngest son may be gone, but I have gained my laundry room back! No longer is it filled with piles of clothes on the floor, in the dryer or in laundry baskets. And speaking of laundry baskets, I no longer have to hunt them down because they are right where I left them!

Then there’s the kitchen. Since becoming empty nesters, our refrigerator has seen the biggest transformation. We can actually find things in it now! It’s no longer filled with gallon milk and juice containers, cheese sticks, packs of eggs and bacon.

And then there’s the dishwasher.

With children in the house, we ran that dishwasher about every other day. I swear, every glass we owned was in it, every time, not to mention every single fork and plate.

Now, it’s filled with Tupperware and wine glasses.

Tupperware because now we actually have leftovers, and wine glasses because we only have to run the dishwasher maybe twice a week. It might look like I drink a lot of wine, but it’s actually several days’ worth of glasses.

As I write this, the prodigal son is home for Thanksgiving break. The basement has been reclaimed by him and his friends; I’m missing a laundry basket, and the dishwasher is filled with everything except Tupperware and Wine Glasses. 

It’s good to have him home.

I Have a Name... And it's Not "Dude"

I am a Gen X, which means I was born between the mid 60s and early 80s. Throughout my working life, I have worked with many Gen Xers and Baby Boomers as well (the generation ahead of Gen X). I’m sure there were things about our generation that Boomers didn’t appreciate.

Now I’m of the “older generation” in the work place, and I work with….MILLENNIALS!

I'm quite familiar with Millennials.  I gave birth to two of them. But working with people my children’s age has been eye opening. Like every generation, Millennials have some deserved and not-so-deserved stereotypes: tech savvy, in constant need of praise and positive feedback, meaningful work, change and diversity valued, living at home AFTER college, etc.

There also seems to be the propensity the use of the word “dude” for male and females. I was use to my sons calling their friends “dude,” but that term was never used in reference to me… until I started working with Millennials.

The first time a 20 something year old man called me "dude," I said what every 40 something year old female should say, "I am NOT a dude."

And yes, I realized that I probably sounded like his mother. And if I was, I would have given him a swift kick.

He said, "Oh... I call everyone 'dude'"  

I guess that made it OK.

Here’s my definition of what constitutes a “dude”

1.      Male

2.     Under the age of 30

Clearly…. I am not a dude.

I have a name.  It’s not “dude.”  And if you try to respect my desire to not be referred to as “dude,” I’ll try to respect the fact that you think it’s OK to move back in with your parents after college.

Survival Tip: Plan a Trip

For my husband’s 50^th (ssshhh.. he still thinks he’s 35) birthday, I surprised him with a cruise. Even though his birthday was in April, I planned the cruise for September. Two reasons: to save enough money to pay for it and with my son away at college, we wouldn't have to worry about him left at home to his own devices. He was 18, and technically an adult. He no longer wanted to stay at friends’ houses when we left town. I got that. And when we would leave for one or even two nights to someplace close, we would let him stay home alone. But out of the country for four days? Was not ready for that. (See “ironic twist” at the end of this blog.)

It turns out that planning a trip shortly after our chick fledged was a great decision. It gave us something to look forward to and proved to be an excellent diversion as we stumbled through that first month of “empty nesting.”

The trip was our first cruise, and we had a great time. We swam with dolphins, witnessed an incredible sunset, drank a few too many mojitos and got in trouble for helping ourselves to tequila samples at the duty-free shop. The only regret: not turning off my “roaming” on my phone. Turns out, international roaming is quite expensive, and I came home to $300 in charges. Oops.

Formal Night

Being pushed by a dolphin

Splash!

Ironic Twist

My son and his friends decided to come home for the weekend when the rival high school teams were playing each other in football.  It turned out that it was the same weekend we would be out of town on our cruise. So planning to take this trip while he was at school and not home, therefore lessening the temptation to have a party, proved fruitless.

He said he didn't have a party… just four guys.  But this is what four guys did to the house

1.       Bent an inside tine of a fork

2.       Broke one of the legs of the kitchen chair

3.       Loosened the toilet from the floor

4.       Caused one blue towel to go missing from the guest bathroom

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