What I learned after running through the airport

Anyone that knows me knows that I love a good plan and schedule. I live by my calendar and pride myself on being organized. Lately, that has become even more necessary due to my increased work travel. With life getting more and more hectic, it soothes me to be able to look on my calendar and know that everything is "handled".

For the past three weeks, I have been on the road for work and the mommy guilt has been strong. That got kicked up a notch last week when I got a note from Diana's school with instructions for this week's "end of year program". When I put it on the calendar at the beginning of the year, I thought it was some sort of classroom party, so it didn't register that it was, for all intents and purposes, a mini-graduation. I was scheduled to be at a conference all week (and had even told some of my colleagues that I would cover a big meeting at the conference so they could go to their own children's graduations). I figured Steven could bring the snacks or whatever we signed up to bring and that would be that.

Then, when the note came, I knew that I couldn't miss it. Flights were changed, plans were scrapped, meetings reassigned - but it was all going to work out, after a little scrambling. I got up before the crack of dawn to make my flight in order to be home in time, and everything seemed to be coming together until my flight from Phoenix landed in Atlanta.

I knew the connection time was going to be a little tight, but my heart sunk when the announcement came on that we weren't able to pull up to the gate right away. I was in the back of the plane and there were hundreds of people that were going to need to get off before I did. I looked at my phone for the gate for my connecting flight and it was in another terminal. My heart sunk again. I watched the status on my phone change to "Boarding" for my next flight and watched the clock tick forward over and over as I waited for the plane to pull up and the other passengers to get OUT OF MY WAY! (Side note: I didn't actually yell that, which is a testament to some major spiritual progress...)

When I was finally able to deplane, I took off running. Literally. It was not a graceful run, since I was lugging a heavy purse and pushing/pulling a rolling suitcase. Between my huffs and puffs, I muttered "Excuse me!" and "I'm sorry!" to everyone I passed or bumped, but I didn't look back because I was only focused on getting on that next plane. I hobbled down the escalator as far as I could hoping that shaving a few extra seconds off of my time would get me on the next tram to the right terminal, and just in the nick of time, jumped on the tram. When the tram stopped, I shoved my way off and started running again. First, up the escalator, and then, through the terminal, again muttering to everyone I passed.

All I could think was "please don't let me miss this flight, please don't let me miss this flight..." My mommy guilt kept my legs moving, faster than they have in a long time. In my head, I could hear my daughter saying "Mommy, why do you keep working all the days? When are you coming home?" I didn't want to let my girl down.

Finally, I arrived at the gate, right as they were making their last call. There was one woman in line ahead of me, and one person at the gate. Something was wrong with his ticket, so the flight attendant starting working on the computer trying to get it sorted out. I let out a huge sigh of relief and slumped over the handle of my suitcase. The woman in front of me turned around, placed her hands on top of mine, looked me in the eyes and said, "Breathe, baby, you made it." I just nodded and complied. "Take another one, baby. You're okay. I don't want you to fall out and miss your plane after all that running."

I apologized and told her that I didn't mean to be such a mess. I started to explain about my crazy three weeks of travel and having to change everything around to make this flight because I didn't pay close enough attention, and she stopped me and said, "Honey, it's always going to be something. You made it. That's all she's going to even remember. Don't pile on guilt that doesn't need to be there."

The ticket agent figured out the person's issue in front of us and we all made our way down the gangway. My new friend chatted as we walked down the aisle about her travels to see all of her grandbabies that were graduating and how proud she was of them. Her voice was so soothing that I felt my angst just fall away. Right before we got on the plane, she turned around and said, "I mean it, now. No more piling on guilt that doesn't need to be there. Remember to breathe, baby, and you'll be fine." She covered my hands with hers one more time, smiled, and took her seat.

I am so grateful for that woman. She recognized my angst and chose to reach out, instead of ignore. Her kind words of reassurance and the reminders to breathe helped more than she could probably imagine. It was a powerful example for me of the need to pay attention to those around us and look for a chance to connect and offer assurances. She could have been playing on a phone and not noticed or chosen to ignore the panting, hot mess of a mom behind her in line. Instead, she reached out, extended some grace and mercy and it made all the difference.

The best non-advice I ever got about parenting

The dang Huffington Post always sucks me in with their headlines: "The 4 Things You Must Never Say To Your Daughter" or "The 7 Ways To Make Sure You Have The Perfect Child", or something along those lines. Whoever they have working for them to write those headlines deserves every penny. I always find myself clicking through to read the wisdom promised to be shared in the article they've posted.

The funny thing is that I have never finished reading one of those articles or blogs and really felt like I have just unlocked some secret about parenting that is going to alter the course of my life forever. They are entertaining. I relate to a good deal of them, a least a little. Earth shattering? Life changing? Not hardly.

Actually, some of the best parenting advice I ever got was from someone that was basically telling me to ignore parenting advice, in general. Here's what happened:

Right after S and I found out that we were pregnant, we went to S's friend's child's birthday party. Soon, all of the attendees found out that we were expecting, and the advice starting FLOWING. Now, I didn't want to be rude, so I politely listened, smiled and nodded. I even thanked most of the people that offered the unsolicited advice - most of which directly contradicted anything said by the person before or after.

I was beginning to feel slightly overwhelmed, and then, the sister of my husband's friend pulled me aside. I fully expected to get another dose of parenting wisdom, since she had just had a child of her own a couple of years prior. Instead, she said something that I locked on to and haven't let go since.

She leaned in, looked me in the eye and asked, "Jeannine, do you have a couple of really good girlfriends?"

Confused, I said, "Of course, I do. I have some of the best friends in the world."

Smiling, she sat back and said, "Good! Have they have kids?"

Still confused, I replied, "Yes, some of them have."

Smiling even bigger, she asked, "Do you like those kids? Did they turn out pretty well?"

Now, totally confused, I simply answered, "Well, yeah. Most of them are great!"

She slapped her hands on her legs and stood up, satisfied with my answer. "Perfect. Then, ignore these people. Listen to your gut and your girlfriends. Call them when you want advice, and don't get bogged down in what anyone else thinks, especially perfect strangers at a kid's birthday party. Keep your circle small, and you'll be fine."

I laughed and let her help me up out of the chair. I understood. We started to walk back towards everyone else at the party, and then, she suddenly turned with an extremely grave look on her face. She had one final thing to share.

"Oh, but they are dead right about Kegels. Those things are SERIOUS!"

Why I was so excited to bake muffins with Diana

Mother's Day is bittersweet for me again this year. I absolutely love being a mom, even when it's really challenging, but I hate that my own mother isn't here to see her namesake becoming this spunky, fun little human.

On Friday afternoon, Diana's school had a Mother's Day party. We ate snacks together, and the kids presented us with these sweet little collages that they made. Instead of heading back into work after the party, I decided to spend the rest of the afternoon with my little one as my own Mother's Day gift to myself. 

We went for a walk, we colored in a couple of her favorite coloring books, we played tag, we ate pizza together, and then, we got to do this: 

My husband snapped this photo with his phone from the other room. That's Diana and me making muffins together. It was our first attempt at baking together, and my heart is still full because of it. 

It might seem like a little thing to most people - why get so excited about muffins?? But for me, it felt like I was carrying on a family tradition.

My mom was an incredible baker and cook. She was MacGuyver in the kitchen - she could whip up pretty much anything from nothing, and it was always really good. She loved the act of creating something that would bring people happiness and comfort, something that would sustain and nurture. We had a giant cookie jar in our kitchen, and it was always full with something yummy. When she died, many of the condolence cards mentioned her skills in the kitchen. 

I loved to be in the kitchen with my mom. Who doesn't love to watch a master artist apply their craft?

One of my favorite memories of my mom was from a random day after middle school, when I came banging through the front door before my brother and sister got home, and she was singing along to Lionel Richie on the radio and setting out all the ingredients for us to make her trademark chocolate chip cookies. When she saw me come in, she didn't stop singing, she just grinned and motioned for me to join her. (I still get choked up with I hear "You Are"....)

Over the past 14 years since she died, when I've struggled with missing her or needed to feel connected, I have often resorted to stepping into the kitchen, pulling on an apron, and getting my hands busy making something from her baking repertoire. 

On Friday, I was loving the time I got to spend with Diana, but found myself thinking about how much I wished my mom was still around to be a part of her life. Instead of wallowing in that or letting it ruin an otherwise really lovely afternoon, I decided to show Diana how her grandmother would have loved to be spending time with her. 

So, I pulled out the ingredients to make muffins and all the bowls, spoons and muffin tins, I plopped Diana up on the counter, and held her hands as she put in the eggs, water and oil. I held the bowl as she sloppily stirred everything together. I found myself saying the same things to her that my mom used to say to me: "Make sure you get you get all the lumps out", "don't eat too much of that now or you'll feel sick", and "great job, sweetie, great job." 

Diana loved it. As a matter of fact, she loved it so much that we made two batches! Then, when we were done, I wrapped them up, and we delivered them to our neighbors to say "Happy Mother's Day" to them because that's what my mother would have done. 

Today, I am grateful for having had a mother that taught me about the love of baking and of caring for others with her example of a life of service and sharing, and for the fact that while she's not here anymore, her legacy can live on and on if I choose to share it with her granddaughter, Diana, and all of you.

Our girl is on the move

A lot has happened since the last time I wrote - I started a new job (which I love!), we almost sold the house (which didn't pan out, thank goodness!), we took a vacation with my husband's family down to Pensacola Beach (baby's first time at the beach...MUCH more work than we realized it was going to be!), and now, our little 11 month old wiggle worm is officially a walker!

Check out this adorable video of some of her first tentative steps.  She's getting more confident and daring each minute, so I am sure I will have more to post soon of her jogging around the house!

I've Been Waiting Ten Months For This

It was a good weekend with the family.  My handsome husband was in full on "get stuff done around the house" mode (which I highly encourage!), so I got to spend some quality time, one on one, with my little one. 

We've been trying out new "big girl" food - and like her momma and daddy, she's a big fan of breakfast! 

Messy Breakfast Baby - June 2013

We spent some time on one of Momma's favorite hobbies:  couponing.

Couponing with Momma - June 2013

S took a break from house stuff on Sunday morning, and we all got dressed up and went to church. 

Time for church - June 2013

The best part of the weekend, though, was her new favorite word!  I have been waiting for 10 months to hear this sweet sound!

We are in trouble - she's officially crawling now!

Last night, Diana was playing on her play mat - and I had one of her favorite toys positioned a little distance away.  After weeks of doing the "Army Crawl", she decided to really go for it.  She tucked her legs up under her, and start crawling.

It's amazing to me that, one day, Diana can't do something, and then, the next day, it's like she's been doing it for months!

Do you think she gets her stubborness from me?

We've been trying to get Diana to try new foods:  sweet potatoes, green beans, carrots, avocado, cereal...

So far, she's not a huge fan of anything off of a spoon.  After some assurances from my mommy friends, I know that she's not going to starve, and that this phase of eating is mostly about developing a palate and learning the skill of eating off of a spoon. 

She's found a good way to let us know her opinion about the food we are trying to serve her.  Do you think she gets her stubborness from me??  (God help me...if she's like this at 6 months, we are in for quite the ride!)

Why I Take and Share So Many Pictures of My Daughter

It was a weekend of firsts for our little family:  first trip to see the Easter Bunny, first trip to Oak Mountain State Park, first time in a swing.  Of course, I had the camera going the whole time - I didn't want to miss a minute.   The professional photographer at the Walgreens where they had the Easter Bunny set up even had to remind me to let HIM take his photo first (the one we paid him to take!), before jumping in with my camera.

There's a couple of reasons that I want to take so many photos (and post them).  First, I do it because a lot of my family and friends live far away.  The only way for them to keep up with all of her "firsts" and fun moments is for me to take photos and videos and post them.  I wish they could all be with us all of the time, but the harsh reality is that we just don't get to see them that often.

The second, and more important, reason is because I know what it's like not to have them.  As most of you know, I lost my mom almost 13 years ago to breast cancer, at the age of 50.  It was long before I met and fell in love with husband, and long before I had the incredible opportunity to become a mom to Diana.

As we travel through the awesome journey of all of Diana's firsts, I would love to talk to my mom about them...but obviously, I can't.  The next best thing would to have photos of them, but most of those don't exist or got misplaced along the way.  

So, I've been taking photos of EVERYTHING so that Diana has a record of all of her firsts and fun moments along the way.  I certainly hope I am around for a very long time, and that I am here to have conversations with Diana when she has her first child...but just in case, I am playing paparazzi and historian.  If she ever wonders what her youth was like, you can just point her here.  (I've also started her an email account where I email her fun photos and videos, and share thoughts about her growth and life. It's kind of like a virtual baby book!)

I'm also trying to make an effort to be IN the photos (totally against my nature), so that she has her mom as part of her memories.  Too many times, I see moms behind the camera - and left OUT of the photos, and I want to make sure that doesn't happen to our family. 

So, if you'll indulge me - here are some memories we made this weekend. 

Dressed up for the Bunny!

"Hmmm...I am not sure about this guy..."

Bundled up and ready to roll at the park!

She's a happy girl hanging out with her mommy and daddy at the park!

First swing - Daddy's pushing!

Mommy's turn to push!

 

"Okay, now, I am starting to like this whole swinging thing!"

 

And now, for the video!   

For more photos:  https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10151405721098355.1073741826.738188354&type=1&l=d4be64c2b3

Pretty Girl in her Party Dress

On Wednesday night, we took Diana to dinner for a friend's birthday - and I decided to get her all dressed up in one of the outfits that my awesome mother-in-law got for her for Easter.  I have never really been a girly girl, but it is so much fun to dress Diana in pretty girly clothes!   The good news is that she seems to be a willing model! 

Does this count as her first word?

Saturday night, I was changing Diana - and she was talking up a storm!  Just making noises, being cute...so, after I got her redressed, I decided to roll a little video so I could show S later that night.

Then, it sounded like she said her first word....

Does that count?  Did she say what I think she did??  S is pretty psyched.  Now, we haven't been able to replicate the moment...but he is claiming dibs on her first word! 

A double standard rears its ugly head

Quite frequently, I feel like I am failing - because I can't find time for all the things I want to do.  I am a woman that wants to do it ALL - and sets a crazy amount of New Year's resolutions to challenge myself to make it happen. 

Often, I feel like I am playing one of those whack-a-mole games where I can never quite get all the moles back in their holes.  If I spend time working out, then, I am not spending time working on getting my real estate license.  If I spend time on my real estate license, then, I am not spending time working on fundraising for Komen.  If I spend time fundraising for Komen, then, I am not spending enough time with my husband.  If I am spending time with my husband, I am not getting the house clean. And the list goes on....

Recently, I had a conversation with my good friend Donna and got very honest about feeling so very overwhelmed and burnt out.  It was the end of a week of my daughter being sick, which had required me to stay home with her and derailed a lot of my best laid plans to check things off my list that week.  I was feeling like I had massively failed - when the reality was that I hadn't failed at all.  I had my most important job:  taking care of my daughter.  And, I'll go ahead and pat myself on the back a little:  I had done it well! Instead of focusing on that fact, I was only focusing on the things that hadn't gotten done - and on burning myself out trying to find time to get to them. 

Donna reminded me to slow down, and focus on the care I had given my daughter.  To stop and remember to take care of MYSELF and not try to do it all, all at once.  It felt like GRACE. 

If the conversation had been reversed, and it was her calling ME to share with me the same situation, I would have responded to her with kindness, caring and compassion (exactly like she responded to me!). 

Why is it so hard for us to extend ourselves the grace that we gladly give our friends?  Why do we impose impossible standards on ourselves?  Why do we berate ourselves for falling short of those standards - especially when we know that, in reality, there's really no way to have and do it "all"?  

I wish I had some great, wise answer to share - but for now, I will just share this: When I catch myself being hard on myself, I am going to try to back up and talk to myself like I would to a friend.  When I set my resolutions, they were supposed to be fun goals for the year - not something to make myself feel bad if I don't do it all, right NOW! 

In the wise words of one of my favorite bloggers, Jon Acuff, I am going to give myself some grace today.   In the wise words of Brene Brown, I am going to try to focus on the fact that I am enough! 

Do you have the same double standard when it comes to how you treat yourself vs. your friends? 

Advice from an old 40 year old....

I love this letter from Julianna W. Miner, a 40 year old mom, to her kids!  Great advice to pass along - or for me to remember TODAY (at age 36!).  

Hello my very beloved offspring,

Someday when you read this, I will be even more ancient than I am right now. Someday I hope very much to be a crotchety old lady who says wildly inappropriate things and embarrasses you by grabbing your father's keister in the retirement community where we live. But for now, I'm only 40.

Everyone says turning 40 is a really big deal but I have not found that to be so. But upon this occasion (and just in case I drop dead tomorrow), I thought I'd tell you what my perspective on life is at this particular moment. Then when you turn 40 and start wondering "Why don't I feel like a real grown-up yet?" you can read this and feel better. Because at least you will realize that your immaturity is in part hereditary. Sorry about that.

Relax, we're all faking it.
This is kind of a big deal, you guys. Because your whole life -- there will always be someone. Someone who you look at and think, did I miss something? How come that person gets to be like that and I have to be like this? Sometimes it's not just a person; sometimes it's a whole group of people. I wasted a lot of time thinking that at any moment, those folks would figure out that I was a big fraud and then they would shun me. It's actually a thing. It's called Impostor Syndrome and lots of people experience it at different points in their lives. So guess what? Turns out it's totally normal to feel like you're faking it. Just do it with good manners and you'll be fine.

Know what makes you happy.
Here's what makes me happy: the three of you. What the tops of your heads smell like. What it sounds like when you laugh so hard you might pee yourself. What you're like right now, what you were, and all the things you're going to be. Your father -- all parts. The rest of our family. Friends who are kind and who don't get mad at me if I forget to call them back right away. Having a big, silly dog. Also Korean barbeque, aged Gouda, and pretty much any kind of dumpling. I know what makes me happy and as a result, I know what's important to me. It's called having priorities and thanks to you, I finally have some.

Don't invite poison into your life.
Did you ever read something and you were like "holy crap -- THAT IS A MOTHERFUNKING TRUTH BOMB"? Terry Pratchett is my favorite writer and he wrote that: "poison goes where poison's welcome." You know that's right. And guess what else? Drama goes where drama's welcome. Pain goes where pain's welcome. Betrayal goes where betrayal's welcome. All these things are going to find you anyway, so for the love of GOD, don't make them welcome. But you know what else? This thought has a bossy older sister and that sister says "light and love go where they're welcome, too. SO MAKE THEM WELCOME." Even when you feel like you don't deserve them, you really do. And so does everyone else.

Simmer the hell down.
I know that you probably think I'm an unrepentant shrieker. But here's a little nugget for your bucket: I have never regretted a single time that I kept my mouth shut, got my crazy under control, and didn't lose my schmidt. But I regret every single time I ever yelled at someone (including you guys). I regret every time I ever unloaded on someone because "they need to hear how I REALLY feel." I regret saying things that made me feel better for about five seconds until I realized they could never be unsaid. I find myself at stop lights, cringing at things I said 20 years ago. The words that haunt me are not the angry ones people have said to me, you guys. Let's just leave it at that.

The universe doesn't give you something without taking something away.
There are a million different ways to say this. Isaac Newton said, "Every action has an equal and opposite reaction." Bridget Jones said, "When one part of your life starts going OK, another falls spectacularly to pieces." And everyone's grandfather ever said, "Nothing comes for free." It's all true. You get married and have kids? You will get so much, but don't kid yourself -- you will have given stuff up along the way. You want a promotion more than anything and you get it. Then suddenly your whole life is about your job. You will do anything to be with that one person or get that one thing or achieve that next gold star... But getting what you want comes with a price (and you usually won't know what it is till long after the fact), so just be prepared for that.

Everything that sucks in your life is there to teach you a lesson.
Take your time, but make sure you try and figure out what that lesson is, because it's always good for you. So when you're lying prone on the floor, surrounded by dirty underpants and Pringles crumbs, maybe stop sobbing "Why is this happening to me?" long enough to ask yourself "Why is this happening to me?"

Value resiliency and not just brokenness.
There was a time when I was young where I felt damaged and I pretty much only identified with people I thought were as messed up as I was. Because they would understand and not judge me. But at some point, I decided to focus on people who are trying to deal with the junk in their trunk and are trying to make things better. Sometimes it takes a really long to time to do that, I think. And notice, I didn't say succeed -- I said try. That's the thing about going through shit in your life. You have to try and wade through it because the alternative is just to stand there, neck-deep in feces. There was a time when I could stand by the people who wouldn't even try to fight their way out, but I can't now. Because I don't want to get sucked in. Now I have priorities. Besides, it's really not your job to fix people. It's your job to love them while they fix themselves.

Understand the power of an honest apology.
Oh my sweet baby condor, I have screwed up so many times. But I try to admit when I'm wrong and I try to make amends for my mistakes. The thing is, though -- you have to really mean it. A disingenuous apology is a very bad thing. It's a lie, wrapped in bacon. But not the good bacon. The kind of bacon they serve in England, that never gets crispy. It's a lie wrapped in flaccid, probably contagious bacon. It's bad.

Gratitude is actually about respect.
I'm not just talking about saying thank you (though saying please and thank you is incredibly important). What I'm talking about is the more Oprah-esque kind of gratitude for the big picture stuff. If you have a family who loves you, if you're healthy, if you have food in the fridge, a job, health insurance, clean water to drink -- be genuinely grateful for that stuff. Be grateful because you are no more entitled to those things than any other human on the planet. And there are millions of good, hard-working people in this world who are desperate for all those things. And it's profoundly disrespectful TO THEM to take what you have for granted and throw it around like it doesn't mean anything.

When you're feeling your worst, when things seem hopeless, there is one thing that will make it better.
Here's the deal: there will always be people who really need help and there will always be something you can do. So pull your head out of your haunches, get your hands dirty and do some good for someone else. This will remind you of who you are and will help repair some of the worm-holes in your soul that come from seeing and feeling stuff.

You can always start over tomorrow.
You're going to make mistakes. You may find there are stretches of your life when you don't like who you've become. You may find yourself listening to the Talking Heads and wondering, "HOW DID I GET HERE?" You may forget to go the gym for about three years. But if you wake up tomorrow and try hard enough to wade through it, you will eventually come out on the other side.

And, God willing, I'll be there waiting for you on the veranda at the retirement community. With one hand holding a refreshing cocktail and with the other, squeezing your father.

Love,
Your mom

See the original at:  http://www.huffingtonpost.com/julianna-w-miner/a-letter-to-my-kids-because-im-40-and-thats-old_b_2630846.html?ir=parents&utm_campaign=020613&utm_medium=email&utm_source=Alert-parents&utm_content=FullStory

Another letter I wish I had written to my daughter

Diana turned 4 months on Friday, so I know I don't have to think about her leaving any time in the near future.  That being said, I also know that time is going to FLY - and I am going to wish I had said some of these things to her before she heads off into the big, crazy world. 

So, Diana - this is a letter that I wish I had written to you, written by another mom that looked at her young daughter this week and also realized that the day will come when she won't live under Mommy's roof anymore.  Just because I didn't write it myself does not mean that I don't relate to every word below - or mean it with all of my heart.  Love you to the moon and back, Mommy.  

P.S.  When I just searched for an image to post with this letter and typed in the words "girl going to college", I am straight up horrified at what I found.  Please, please, please don't ever pose for those kinds of photos.  They will haunt you forever, as in someday, your son or daughter might find them.  

Dear Viv,

Tomorrow, you're headed off to college. Your Dad and I are so fucking proud of you. What, you didn't know mom dropped F-bombs? I've been saving them up until you left the house. Your poor Dad is going feel like he's living with Sam Kinison.

Since your high school years were not nearly as tortured and awkward as your mother's, perhaps you will not feel the need to go full Girls-Gone-Wild bananas in college like I did, but just in case, here are some helpful guidelines:

Do not drink the punch. It's flammable and toxic and boys have most definitely peed in there. If you must drink, stick with beer, which will hopefully fill you up before you can poison yourself.

Please don't do drugs. But if you're going to try drugs, do like mom always taught you at Whole Foods and buy organic.

When you go out at night, always use the buddy system. (Your buddy is a nice girl from your dorm. Preferably a Mormon.) When that cute lacrosse player wants to show you the roof of his fraternity house, ask yourself, is my buddy here? No? Then go find her and walk home together.

No naked photos. If some boy you like really needs a permanent record of your boobs, suggest that he draw you from life, Titanic-style. He supplies the diamond.

Make friends with girls. Guys can also be terrific friends, but until the When Harry Met Sally theory of gender relations is formally disproven, some of those friendships may be lost to unrequited feelings or bad kissing. Girls are for life.

Speaking of permanence, I hear tattoo removal is quite painful.

Don't automatically skip the opening band. The Beastie Boys once opened for Madonna.

If someone offers you a chance to march on Washington for a cause you believe in, go. This rarely happens after college, and never again does it come with a shiny bus and matching t-shirts.

Courses like philosophy, art history and literature will open your mind, unveil the beauty in the world and make you really good at crossword puzzles. That said, it wouldn't hurt to take an accounting class.

I know it's more convenient, but remember that texting will never be as satisfying as an in-person conversation. Would you rather have a pizza described to you or delivered to your door?

And one more thing I learned in college a few times over: A broken heart feels like the end of the world, but it's just the beginning -- as well as the foundation for all the best songs and poetry.

Viv, I hope you'll take some of this advice to heart, but whether you do or not, I'll still be there whenever you need me. Once upon a time, I knew a lot about great novelists and boys. I can still talk with some authority about boys. (Or should you fall in love with girls, I'm a quick study.)

I'm so excited for you. As it says in our story book, I love all that you will be, and everything you are.

Love you madly,
Mom

(Written by Amy Wruble:  http://www.huffingtonpost.com/amy-wruble/college-advice-for-daughters_b_2264720.html?ncid=edlinkusaolp00000003)  

Best part of my day...

Diana has had the sniffles for about 10 days now - so, when she sleeps, she makes a lot of noise. That means that I don't get much sleep, even when she dozes. It's been a long day today - but this moment makes it worth it.