Moving On

It seems that I am writing the same things about my kids as I did last year. They still are not sure they want to leave home, still not sure they don't want to chuck it all to live in their bedrooms, watch cartoons and ask me if I mind very much making them dinner.

A month ago my daughter left for Berkeley, California. Yesterday my son left for Austin, Texas. He's off on a new adventure and he's not sure . . . He has a friend who works in an office job and on the side buys rental real estate. His friend has already purchased 4 quadraplexes.

He thinks this is what he would like to do -- get a day job, establish a good work and credit history, buy rental property. He also has Americorps tuition-credit, so he's wondering about grad school.

My first response to real estate in Texas was, "Can't you do this in California?" His just gave me "the look." You know the one that says mom as a two or three syllable word? Days passed. He finally explained that Texas has two advantages (three, no one expects the Spanish Inquisition): his friend is there doing this very thing; his friend's dad is there and has owned rental property for over 30 years; California real estate is more expensive. Good points. I can move back to Calif even if my kids don't live there!

He is driving to Texas. He got his first cell phone and we added him to our family plan so he would have a way to get job phone calls. He calls each night to tell me where he is -- Virginia the first night. Arkansas tonight. And each call ends with, "Mom, I don't know if this is what I should be doing."

I don't know either. But I know it really is time for him to leave home. There are no good job prospects here. Real Estate is pretty expensive. There's a certain inertia that happens to the kids who stay here and all but one of his closest friends have left.

I'll miss him. He's been my tv buddy this summer. We've been watching summer shows -- Warehouse 13, Eureka, Burn Notice, etc. So while his dad is off playing or teaching music, my boy and I sit on the couch & watch tv together. I can talk, but only at the commercials. He'll explain what I have missed if I am attempting to watch tv and be on the computer simultaneously.

When I woke up this morning I was the only one home. My husband left for work at 0-dark-100. My son left yesterday. The house felt different. There was a different energy.

It kind of feels like we're all moving on -- finding that next thing which calls to us. I spent the whole day making art. It'll be interesting to see how we all weather this year and what lessons we learn.

Getting Stuff Done

I am taking advantage of one of the ways I get my house clean -- invite company!

Actually a young man we have known since birth had his mom call me last week and ask if it was ok if he came to visit. So I didn't plan to clean. But he loves the beaches here, his family rented a cottage near our rental a couple summers, and it's hard for me to say no to company.

I think my son may be disgusted with me. The house has been a disaster area since he returned home for the summer. In order to get my shop open I had to move things out and the house was the cheapest option. But that made the house cluttered. Plus the boxes of Christmas decorations had not been put back into the attic. Most of them were in the guest room.

Now that company is coming, I'm cleaning. My son kindly took those big plastic tubs up into the attic. And this company is a young man who used to bug my son with his hyperactivity when they were kids! Hardly seems fair to my son, I'm sure!
(completely unrelated, click here to see what my son is going to do for the final camp banquet, where he's cooking this summer).

The other way to get my house clean is to get up at 6:30 am and start working. What a novel concept! I would rather stay in bed reading the novel until 10, wander downstairs, check my email, putter about for a while, go out to lunch at 11 or so, come home and putter about for another couple of hours, play spider solitaire til I win or give up, plop myself down on the couch to eat dinner and watch tv in the evening, then back to bed, the novel, and sleep. You can see why that model does not get the house clean, neat, or anything close!

Dang! I start a business that means I now have to be somewhere most days. Then I discover to get the house clean I actually have to get up early and work! Whatever happened to a life of leisure, soap operas and bon-bons? Not that I ever really liked soap operas or bon-bons, but still!

I love Laggin's pictures of houses!
Here is my attempt to find a tiny dancer-related pic!

Work boots for a cleaning dancer.
Hope you all have a productive day.

My parents joined facebook.com

My daughter loves Facebook. It is a lifeline to her. She has specifically asked me NOT to join Facebook! And I'm really glad!

Now, I'm not against parents checking out their kids' Facebook pages. For some, this is the most responsible thing to do and I applaud that. Any tool to take care of your kids and keep them safe is wonderful! But my girl is 22, a senior in college and she calls me whenever something bothers her. I don't need to see her Facebook page. She's earned her privacy. Just like I haven't told my family about this blog. I like the privacy too.

What triggered this was a program on NPR about a 40-something woman who had set up her mom's Facebook account and then was agonizing because she really didn't want to allow her mom to friend her. She definitely didn't want her dad to either and she was feeling enormous guilt about the whole thing. The program mentioned a website dealing with this very issue! Oh Crap . . .

It was the mom who spends so much time viewing her son's page she feels like a stalker, that reminded me how glad I am not to be on Facebook. This mom knew she was being obsessive, but couldn't help herself. I heard her and thought I would be just as obsessive about my daughter's life and her friends' lives. My daughter would be mortified if I tried to friend them! They might be too, for that matter!

I think I'm going to send an email to my girl telling her how glad I am not to be on Facebook. I won't tell her its because I would spend all my time checking up on her. That's best left unsaid. She'll think it's weird, but then anytime I'm too self-analytical she thinks its weird. Hmmm d'ya think she thinks I'm weird all the time? Maybe she doesn't think about me enough to do so? I hope!