Memory Lane

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My kitchen table is covered in crown making materials for their senior rally tomorrow. I’m not entirely positive that I’m NOT high from all the spray paint smells. I honestly can’t be sure at this point. Mostly because I’m already so, so tired.

We’re also watching Mr & Mrs Smith. Because that’s what you do when you’re up all night working on senior crowns.

 


 

I’ve spent so much time looking at pictures from the past couple months, thanks to Sarah. Besides (AMAZING) senior portraits, she’s also managed to capture some of THE BEST moments of the end of Beezus’ senior year. I love scrolling through them. Basically, that’s all I’ve done for the past few months.

Okay, not ALL that I’ve done.

But YOU GUYS.

I love these turds
I love these turds

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Ooooph. My heart.
Ooooph. My heart.

I just really love these goofs.

And I’m just kinda gonna miss all of the things.

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Senior Ball
Senior Ball

We all know that Sarah is a genius, but I don’t think anyone will ever understand how much I love these pictures. Like, I’m super close to being SUPER dramatic about all of it and telling you how they made my life. MADE. MY. LIFE. But I’m not going to do that. Yet.

Even though you all would agree with me. Because come ON with these.

Sutro Baths
Sutro Baths

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But wait, there’s more.

Because then there are family pictures. Family pictures that (yes, as dramatic as it sounds) literally took my breath away. Family pictures that will be on huge canvases in my house because I WILL BE THAT PERSON.

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By THAT PERSON I mean completely awesome and rad. Because LOOK.

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I think this one will be OBNOXIOUSLY huge in my front room. Because YES.
But it was this one that stopped me in my tracks. Because these are my babies who aren’t babies. This is a beautiful GORGEOUS picture of my daughters that is so them in some way. The essence? Of them? I CAN’T BELIEVE I JUST SAID THAT EITHER.

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It’s 1 in the morning and there are still so many crowns to be made for tomorrow. We just made a midnight run to In n Out, and I already have too many regrets to count.

I’m also legitimately worried about all that they have to do. But not worried enough that I’ve offered to help. I mean, besides driving to In n Out. But…helping? Ugh. Naw.

(I’ll probably help for a minute. I’m a such a sucker.)

 

**I love you, Sarah. Thank you isn’t even enough. But thank you.**

Learn By Doing

I actually starting writing about our trip on the drive home. I’m not entirely sure why I didn’t finish, but it is what it is. I know a lot of it has to do with feeling like I’m a broken record. I just imagine what everyone must think every time graduation and college comes up. It sounds a lot like “shut up already” I’m sure.

Eh. Again…it is what it is.

But this trip to SLO.

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Most of you have heard me mention how good this trip was. Visiting the campus, the community…seeing my kid make some new friends and experiencing new things with other (new) students with the same focus and major. Getting a better idea of where she’ll be living for the next few years. Exploring. She stayed one night in the dorms for a special open house event.

While she did that, The Dude and I explored the surrounding area. Only 15 minutes to the beach and Pismo. Wineries close by for when we visit.

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The Farmer’s Market. Really seeing how good this will all be for her and how much fun she’s going to have.

It was everything I needed Open House to be.

Gawd, she’s going to have the best time.

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I have no effing clue how I’m ever going to say goodbye to that kid in the fall. But getting just a taste of the amazing campus and community life and her immediately loving it helps so damn much.

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Cal Poly won’t ever be the same after she comes to town. How could it?

She leaves an indelible mark wherever she goes.

In the best possible way.

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Jar of Dirt



There’s a tradition for graduating seniors at the end of the season: jars are filled with the dirt or grass (or both) from the spot on the field where they played. So this is the dirt from the spot between second base and third base where my kid played shortstop for the past four years. Varsity all four years, team captain, All League…all of this, and more, while completing a full IB diploma, managing a student team in a nationally recognized environmental creek project and maintaining a 4.4 GPA…that’s some damn meaningful dirt in a mason jar. 

I didn’t cry during senior night or prom but hand my kid a jar of dirt (and say a bunch of nice things about how rad she is) during the end of season party tonight and I can no longer make such bold statements. Turns out there IS crying in baseball. I mean softball. (I’m so proud of you, kiddo. <3)





Stocking Up on Windex

Last night I realized that this is me:



My kid, her friends. I adore them. ADORE THEM. And they are all set to leave for college in the fall. Leave ME. 

Because it’s all about me, you guys. 

I mean, it’s not. But it is? 

I don’t know but imagining myself as an old Greek dude putting Windex in everything makes me laugh. A lot. 

Good ‘ol Easter

We had a really nice Easter weekend. We spent some time up at my Gram’s house on Saturday with some of my favorite people. And then spent all day today with some more of my favorite people. Yummy food stuffs and way too much candy. Reminiscing and laughter and fun stories. 

(I mostly have pictures from today. Don’t hate me.)





It’s also worth noting that we played a tiny game of war with a tiny deck of cards. Shuffling those bad boys was ridiculous. 



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For the past few years, Beezus has instigated a tradition on her favorite holiday: a picture with me. 



I didn’t realize how much these mean to me until today. 

Ramona hasn’t particularly loved having her picture taken over the years but I’m hoping we can start a similar tradition because I absolutely love these pictures with Beezus and I want to have a similar collection with Ramona. As these years SPEED BY, it’s amazing to look back. 

This week marks one of those “last times we’ll do this” kind of event and I realized today that I’m a little anxious about all of it. Less than two months until graduation. 

Once again, I apologize for how obnoxious I will surely be. I promise to make it up to you. Somehow. 

Blast From the Past and Present

Last week I took Ramona shopping for her birthday. She had a very specific and capable ensemble in mind for her birthday and last week’s birthday party. Not only the outfit but very specific shoes.

Each time she explained what she wanted, it didn’t register that her ideal boots were super specific. The morning of the shopping trip, I was discussing the fact that I had been looking into getting a pair of Birkenstocks (I KNOW) when the conversation turned to the fact that Ramona was looking to get a pair of white Doc Martens.

Apparently we were going to need to hop in a time machine to 1992 for our shopping needs.

My feet have never been happier. And 90’s Jill is completely in love with Ramona’s shoe choice. Hell, current Jill is completely in love with her shoe choice.

I’m gonna stop talking like I’m not here.

By the way, since Vogue says these shoes are coming back. Or are back. Or were back. (Because, let’s face it, I’m always behind the trend.) Whatever. THAT. Since they said that, I have completely disregarded Ramona’s concerns that my new shoes are old people shoes.

Her shoe choice has given her a pass. This time.

Crying Laughing Face

We celebrated Ramona’s 13th birthday this past weekend. A little early because Easter and spring break can make scheduling a birthday party rather difficult.

Friday afternoon, Ramona informed me that she would love to have an emoji party.

So we did.

I’m not gonna lie, I was a little proud of pulling it off with so little notice. With only a mild amount of danger. (I even went the long way home because I just couldn’t see to merge into traffic.)

I punched out yellow circles and drew as many emoji faces as I possibly could. We pink and yellowed the crap out of all the things.

 

But because I am 12…I couldn’t help but make chocolate cupcakes with chocolate frosting. With eyes. As the smiling pile of poo emoji. As one does.

I almost talked myself out of it. (What if our parents hate it and are appalled!) (They weren’t.) WAS I TAKING OUR EMOJI THEME TOO FAR??!

Luckily Amy brought me back to my senses and reminded me it was damn funny. DAMN. FUNNY.

Emoji poop for everyone.

Unexpected Gut Punches

“Life is a balance of holding on and letting go.” ~ Rumi

We were just on the phone with my uncle to plan a camping trip for the summer. We chatted about the college process, catching him up with the latest news and updates. We still don’t know very much (man, they make you wait) but we told him what we did know. He talked about his experience with his kids. It’s so different now, but was still quite the ordeal back then.

When his youngest, my cousin and his only daughter, was making big college decisions, he wrote her poem. How he has it handy, I don’t know but he read it to The Dude and I over the phone tonight.

It gutted me. He finished reading it and I had to walk out of the room.

I hate talking about this without being able to share the poem, but it’s not mine to share.

During a phone call to plan camping trips, I wasn’t expecting to be completely ruined by a poem. It came out of nowhere and punched me in all of the feels.

You guys.

I keep thinking that I’m doing better with all of this. I actually have excited and happy thoughts about her college experience and decisions. I’m fine! All is well! Until I go to a basketball game on senior night and realize that I’ll have to go to my own senior’s night in a few months for softball. Or my uncle reading a poem about kids leaving home and I’m completely and totally destroyed. I don’t want to be an annoying person who can’t move past things. I expect eye-rolling and “holy crap get over yourself” and don’t worry, I’m totally saying those things to myself, too.

But every once in awhile, the punches to the gut knock the wind out of me.

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I’ll be back to normal tomorrow. But if you don’t mind, I’m going to take a break from poetry for awhile.

I couldn’t keep myself from making promises

I don’t really want to talk about resolutions. I didn’t really make any. But what I AM trying to get better at is making long and short-term goals for myself and for my family. I want to learn how to focus on the small aspects of a much bigger picture. The baby steps toward a big dream instead of tripping over my own insecurities and life’s roadblocks.

During the Great Broken Blog of 2014 I let a lot of things go here. I don’t know that I needed the break, I think I had just made it way too hard. It was much easier to hide behind the brokenness. The fixing of all things broken reminded me how much I like it here.

So while I didn’t make any resolutions, I did make a promise to myself and how I wanted to keep track and remember this year. Some people keep jars that they fill up with memories or good times, I just now have my little space here. Again.

But if I was keeping a jar? This picture would be the second thing I put in there. (The first being the picture from yesterday.) And in some way, I would try to explain how much I love that she still loves taking pictures with me and being silly with me. Loving that she is one of my favorite humans and knowing that I just might be one of hers, too.

Me and Beezus NYE
Me and Beezus NYE

Please know that I might suck at this new way of doing things. But that’s not gonna stop me from trying. Not anymore. If it’s pictures, if it’s words…it doesn’t matter. There is just way too much I want to remember.

Parallel

I just finished watching an episode of Gilmore Girls. Don’t act like you’re so surprised. Netflix has given us all the gift of Gilmore Girls and, therefore, it is our Netflix-given duty to watch each episode. Don’t kid yourself; you probably just finished watching a GG episode, too.

Also, if you believe that I’ve only watched ONE episode of Gilmore Girls I probably have a bridge to sell you.

But here’s the thing…this episode? It was the one where Rory got a ‘D’ on her test and she questions all the things about going to Chilton and if she can take it. And then she stays up all night studying for her test and then she oversleeps and misses her test and she completely loses it on her class. And then Lorelei tries to help and ends up losing it a little bit on the teacher and the dean. She tries to get them to let Rory take the test anyway because Harvard dreams, you guys!

Then Lorelei talks to Rory and says she doesn’t have to keep going to Chilton and she can go back to her old school. Lorelei begins to question the Harvard dreams asking Rory if this is what she really always wanted or was it Lorelei that started this dream because she never had the big college experience.

I don’t have anything to add to this right now. Mostly I just wanted you to know about that particular Gilmore Girls gut punch. Also that those worries sometimes apply to Stanford and Berkeley and IB programs and softball. We should also have a conversation about the fact that me watching Gilmore Girls at this phase in my life will lead to other gut punches and blog posts. I fully expect to not have any friends by this time next year.

By the way, Rory assures her mom that the Harvard dreams are really what she wants. It was all she ever wanted.

I choose to believe her.