Today we go home, back to Michigan where the weather sounds like that lovely early Midwest Spring- 54, mostly sunny. Here it’s raining and I’m ready to leave. Without my child and her, boyfriend, STILL aka, more than ever, The Putz. I need to write a whole blog about what you do when your child disappoints. I mean, other than wait.
I’ve noticed that in a lot of the blogs I like the authors still have those darling toddlers who need to be kept out of the street and off the stove but say cute things and are still highly snuffable. Maybe I partly like those blogs because I remember my son’s and daughter’s early growing up times with great affection. Oh, God help me, I was so in love with them. I sucked their toes, marveled at their every utterance and sighed with a totally open heart as I watched them sleep.
Abby and Nick are still asleep and soon I have to leave the safe haven of Panera’s ( two blocks from the bungalow and FREE FREE FREE wireless) and another day of gritting teeth, muttering and sniping will begin. It’s been a tough week with them working one agenda: moon over each other, go to the beach, play tennis, sleep, shower and eat- new towel and new restaurant- many times a day. Kristen and I have had the agenda of putting this house together (very successfully, I might add) but we’ve all been at cross purposes. I’m sure Abby feels as frustrated, beleaguered and cranked as I do but I am, I’m ABSOLUTELY CERTAIN, the RIGHT one. And she’s wrong. I even know how and where she’s wrong.
She changes herself for a guy. Three weeks ago we were in Costa Rica- Abby, Linda and I and she was my curious, bright, lovely, easy to please, adventuresome woman-child. Now here, with Nick along, she’s a friggin’ Paris Hilton wanna be. Anyway- that’s a blog for a few days from now when I have time and energy. I just know that many-most- mothers I know and have talked to have all had essentially this to say: “Yup! Between 17 and 23, no matter how golden they’ve been, they turn on you like Linda Blair.” I always thought, not mine, she’s TOO golden. But she’s turned. When she’s around her guy. Rich is so very good about the waiting part. I’m not. I want my golden girl back.
So today we pack up, take some pictures and fly home. The house feels nice. It’s comfortable and attractive and fully furnished so anyone could stay, cook, sleep, sit out, sit in, go to Tropicana Field, the Beach, good restaurants. It’s ready for us and our friends. The neighbors, between the alarm going off the other night and Abby having a couple fits right out of Dogma, probably think we’re a bit sketchy as the new folks on the block but Jordan from across the street came over to welcome us and I’m going to take over our Easter Lily that is not yet done blooming as a parting gift.
Kristen has been a saint, my salvation, a workhorse, a true friend. I owe her a several weeks of true vacation time, minus the kids.