Some of us are old enough to finally have what they call “perspective”. Who knows though. I don’t want to get cocky. I could just as easily be embarrassed of whatever “wisdom” I’m spouting now as I am of discussing the benefits of “an academic preschool” all those years ago. “I don’t want her to be behind when she enters kindergarten.”
Actually, I didn’t say that. I was too busy feigning nonchalance. Only uptight moms worried about this nonsense. I’m enlightened and not competitive. I will embrace my child’s own unique pace. Wait, is that preschool better? Will she be behind? What time do we need to get in line? Letters of recommendation???
You know how it is. We were all better mothers before we were mothers. Or before we started comparing. Or before our kids turned out to be real live individual humans with unique needs. Or before the shit hit the fan.
Now I know better. Which is to say I know I don’t know. Which is good because the scariest place to be is clueless without a clue that your clueless. AKA to be young again.
So us older ladies have earned the right to state things as if they are fact. At just the same time we realize we have no facts. The ever changing reality is well, ever changing.
I pledge to write more this year. I realize it’s my happy place. I love writing, I always have. It’s the theme that runs consistently throughout my life. I hope to publish something or some things but honestly, even if that never comes to fruition, I want to write for me. I do sincerely hope it blesses you too.
So while I can’t offer any good “to dos” or help you avoid any pitfalls or pain, my prayer is to offer you something better. Hope. Laughter. Recognition. I hope you feel comforted. Less alone. Since I’m human and messy and multi faceted, like you are, some essays might feel like a cozy blanket, cup of tea and time getting centered. (Wait, scratch that. I don’t drink tea. I mean, a cup of strong coffee.) Other times I hope you feel like your best friend just entered the room like a whirlwind with a bottle of wine, unwashed hair, and lots of sass, feverishly dishing out her latest escapade.
We need that don’t we? Girlfriends. We spend a lot of time (okay me, I spend a lot of time) trying to be the former, the wise calm one. And I seek that out too. We all need that. But what we all also need every once in awhile is to have the messy friend come over and verbally vomit on us. Tell me everything, we say as we pull out the wine glasses. If we want to have that friend, we have to be that friend. Here goes!
Grateful for all of it.