16633 Days

Apparently, that's how old I am today; 16633 days old. How many of these days have been used wisely? When the kids were little, every day seemed like I was making deposits into some sort of eternal account book. Even wiping a snotty nose seemed important and significant. But, a few days ago, my youngest daughter graduated from high school. Honestly, never in a million years would I have thought that I would be one of those moms who seemed stunned when the mom gig was up. But here I am. Feeling a little lost. and sad.

It's not like I have nothing to do. There's plenty to do. Good grief, there are 21 empty canvases in the studio waiting for something to happen. That's an eye opener....hadn't counted them until just now.

Last week I finished the back yard patio. While it's great to finally be done, it didn't make my innards do cartwheels like usual...that strong sense of accomplishment just wasn't there.

We live in this old house, and there are lots of handyman type projects always screaming for someone to pay attention to them. It's not like I'm not capable of doing the work; just lately, the screaming house has been ignored.

Speaking of screaming house, Hilary and Joy have almost convinced themselves that our house is haunted. For a while now, the TV has been turning on by itself. My explanation is that one of the neighbors has a universal remote. When whichever neighbor turns on their TV, it sometimes somehow reaches our TV as well....but Hilary and Joy aren't so sure. And then there's the possibility that this unidentified neighbor has figured out that their remote works on our TV, and is just messing with us, which, incidentally, is a very plausible theory. Once, while visiting my parents, who at the time lived in a cookie cutter house suburban area of Orlando, we just so happened to discover that my parents garage door opener also worked on two other neighbors' garage doors. Instead of a drive by shutting, we pulled out the big gun (garage door remote) for a drive by opening! Also, Hilary and Reese are convinced that they heard the ukulele playing itself a few weeks ago. My theory on that one is because I have been playing so much, a tune got stuck in their brains and was trying to sweeten their dreams...both of them...dreaming the same dream at the same time. (Cue Twilight Zone music) It could happen. Sometimes, in the middle of the night, I hear the stairs creak. I'll get up to see who went downstairs, but everyone is tucked all snug in their beds. My theory is that the house is adjusting it's belt loop after a long day of holding it's breath. Night is the time to put on elastic after sucking in the gut all day...and then breathing a deep creaky sigh of relief. The house, I'm talking about the house.

Back to the beginning, Reese and I knew going in that this parenting gig had a built in time frame. We've transitioned fairly well with the older three. (Right, daughters?) And I thought that I was prepared for the same healthy transition with Joy. But, when I went to James Avery to buy the last high school graduation gift, I realized that I was buying the last high school graduation gift. It's kind of a big deal. In this crazy life, I'll still have plenty to do now that we've all reached this milestone, but what am I going to do?