Sisterhood

I have a younger sister, a little more than 4 years younger. For a very long time, we weren’t that close. First, because I’m the older one, there are only two of us, and frankly, a lot of people ignore the younger siblings because 1) it’s the thing to do; 2) with this age gap I was hitting benchmarks first and moving on while she was still at home; and 3) our interests, outside of reading, were very different. Then, too, she’s extremely bright, which can be rather awe-inspiring. I hold my own but she’s way ahead of me. And, too, she got the math gene, which I really don’t have (we’ll skip a discussion of both geometry and calculus). I’m the married one; she’s not. I have two children; they are her only nieces.

But in the last few years some things have changed. And I think this is where layoffs have come in handy. With both of my children grown and out of the house, and a lot of free time on my hands, I started to make plans for doing more “fun” things every so often—and she decided she wanted to come along. That surprised me because my sister has a high-powered job and is always busy with clients, meetings, work. Yet this was something she wanted to do – probably because she knew she needed a break from her everyday life – so she made the time. I did the work and would offer her choices in things to do, usually museums, but based on what I consider to be a wide selection of topics/exhibits.

A few years ago, we both wanted to go to the azalea show at the Bronx Botanical Gardens, but I couldn’t make it and she ended up taking off for the afternoon and going with some co-workers. Now, the gardens, unlike the museums, require a train ride—25 minutes from Grand Central Station. And she loved all of it. So now, we go to exhibits there a couple of times a year. And we both enjoy them. Aside from all the walking—about which she complains frequently—the exhibits are beautifully done. We’ve been to the orchid show, and to the train show (twice), and to others. They’re all beautiful. And afterwards, depending on how long we’ve been in the conservatory and close-in areas, we love to take the tram that does the overview tour of the gardens, and see what’s happening. Even when nothing is in bloom, the gardens are gorgeous. Afterwards, we take the train back—and for some reason, even in late morning the train back to Manhattan is always crowded. We go to lunch and then hit a small museum, or a gallery, or just something that I’ve found to see from online sources. I’m happy to do the research.

We’ve also been to the Metropolitan Museum of Art, which is so big we go for specific exhibits only, not to just wander. We have eclectic tastes, so we’re rarely disappointed.

Overdoing

Of course, there was the day we were going to see Grant’s Tomb, and decided to walk through Riverside Park to get there. Unfortunately, we didn’t cross under the road soon enough and ended up a lot further north than we should have been. My hips and feet were dead by the time we got to 125^th Street and Amsterdam Avenue (we started at 60^th Street and 9^th Avenue) and I refused to walk back down to the tomb. I had a limit, it was very hot out, and I just wanted to head back downtown. So we did, to the Museum of Natural History, which was jammed. We opted to go to the planetarium; I think I fell asleep during the presentation—it was dark, the narration was soothing, I had already walked miles (I wear a pedometer; I had done a lot). We skipped the dinosaurs; stopped for lunch at Fairway Market; and I walked her home, then took the subway back to the train and went home. By the end of the day I had done more than 9 miles, a personal best. Fortunately, for the rest of the week I was working from home and my body could rest.

New Friendships 

But ultimately, I think we’ve formed a new relationship. One that’s a lot stronger than it used to be. Now, we talk more often, although mainly about family issues. It used to be that I wouldn’t even think to ask her about how we wanted to do family things; now, I pick up the phone or send an e-mail at least once, usually twice, a week. I sometimes even call just to chat. We talk about more than just family, sometimes our opinions agree, sometimes not.

I never dreamed that would happen, but I’m glad it did.

To Do or Not To Do: Where Is the List?

Like a lot of people, I have a to-do list. The question is: Where do I keep one? I’m crazed with this so I actually have several lists. The general ones, as in things I’d like to get done around the house, books I might want to read, things I’d just like to do, and similar ideas, live digitally. There again, I have several of those. One lives on my tablet, which I frequently take to work with me and I can see the list right out on the opening screen every time I, well, “open” it.

Digital Choices

Then there is Evernote, a digital way to keep lists, ideas, pictures. For me, it’s just for lists. Evernote lives on my laptop, my smartphone, and my tablet. I sync them whenever I make changes so, hopefully, I can find my lists whenever I want them—and add to them wherever I am. Evernote is where I keep multiple lists. So, I have a general to-do list; a supermarket list; my Costco list. At Thanksgiving time, which is a very big holiday in this household, I keep a separate shopping list, categorized by sections of the market to keep things easier.

The Paper Route

But to me, paper is really the only true way to keep a to-do list. And I have several ways to do that too. First, I have notebooks, the kind that come with bands around them and places to keep pens. Sometimes they are in my pocketbook, sometimes in a work tote bag, or sometimes just on the seat of the car. Yes, they can be a little unwieldy, but they are hugely useful when you want to make notes on what you have done. For example, I eventually want to replace my front doors. My son-in-law, who is in the renovation business, took measurements for me, and even drew a picture of the doors with the measurements needed. It all lives in the notebook; no, I don’t plan to order the doors just yet, but when I do, I have all the information I need. Plus, in a notebook I can keep an ongoing to-do list, with comments. As I finish something, I just cross it off. I can also go back into the notebooks to see what I once might have wanted to do, or to see how I handled similar topics. It offers me history to fall back on.

Then, courtesy of Levenger, I discovered vertical index cards. Everyone has the horizontal 3x5 cards, but for keeping to-do lists, the vertical cards are even better. They are much easier to keep just one list on; I don’t feel obligated to have 2 columns of thoughts because I’m on a horizontal base. These are for shorter lists, and are tossed when everything is marked off and done. Generally, I use any one card for no more than 2 or 3 days. For more important items, I usually just draw a red box around the to-do and make sure it happens first.

Everyone has a to-do system. I have a friend who for many years has sat down every night and made her list for the next day. She has even made lists for her husband so they each have their own tasks and nothing gets mixed. Mine are more stream of consciousness—as I think of what I need to do, I just write it down. It works for me.

What works for you?  

Thanksgiving Saga

It’s my holiday. We don’t celebrate Christmas and I needed something besides religious holidays to bring both sides of the family together so for more than 35 years, I’ve done Thanksgiving. But, do not picture 15 or 20 people sitting around a groaning board and chowing down. In my best year of just family, it was seven people. My husband is an only child so there were no siblings from there; and my sister never married, so essentially, my two daughters are it. That’s not to say that I haven’t had more. For several years, my daughter’s roommate came but we were still at seven because my mother-in-law had passed away (which had left us at six for a few years. One year we invited a family whose house was under repair, so that pushed us to eleven.

And then my older daughter started to date the man she ultimately married. She came from Denver for Thanksgiving, so he started to come too. That was good for my husband because it gave him another guy at the table—and watching the football games intently. Then, after they were married, we invited his family to come east as well and join us. We went back up to ten.

The Healthy, Yet Jewish, Food

But in our house, the issue wasn’t even so much the numbers as what we served. I call it the nontraditional Thanksgiving. First, there’s no sweet potato pie with marshmallows. Usually, there’s no gravy either. Yes, there’s a turkey, and there’s stuffing, and I even pick up a can of cranberry sauce, which my mother (and my late mother-in-law) particularly like. And I make a big salad—mine are the kind that include a wide variety of vegetables, from celery to turnips. But there are other side dishes to.

My standard is potato latkes—the kind that are traditional at Chanukah time. They are a staple of the meal and there are almost no leftovers. When my mother and sister arrive for dinner, they immediately go looking for them to nibble on before we even start. And trust me, the latke effort isn’t easy. My hands don’t work as well as they used to so my older daughter has taken over the peeling. Fortunately, she is fantastic at it. I’ve never seen anyone peel 10 potatoes that fast. If I’m not careful to count them out beforehand, I’d have 20 potatoes in 12 minutes. But I still do the grinding – we are incredibly thankful that day for the food processor—and the mixing and the cooking, I use two frying pans to make the cooking time shorter. But if I say so, I make a mean latke and they are the highlight of dinner. Even my son-in-law, who was not raised near latkes, loves them.

And then there’s the other possible side dish—and no, it’s nothing with green beans although lately we do make dishes with them. No, I’m talking derma. This is a hard-to-explain food that I buy in the kosher delicatessen, and heat slowly usually in the microwave. It’s a little spicy, but the children love it—I’ve always been partial to it as well. (When my younger daughter was in the third grade they had to keep journals and she talked about derma in her Thanksgiving entry. The teacher had no idea what she was talking about, but thought it sounded interesting.)

Part the regulation dessert are chocolate raisin drops. It's a recipe I found in a cookbook many years ago with almost no prep time--just mix, drop, and let it sit. They are now a staple, and my younger daughter has also made them for parties she's been invited to. The trick is to hide them once they're made or I have half the number I started with when I go to put them out. Nowadays, the issue is finding German sweet chocolate, which for some reason a lot of supermarkets don't seem to carry anymore. So, if I see it a month before, I get it so I'm prepared. 

 Family Prep Time

And finally, there’s the cooking. When my children were small, obviously they didn’t do a lot to help with the cooking. In the last few years, though, my life has been much easier. I still handle the turkey setup, and the latkes—and all of the shopping since they live far away—but they handle the rest of it. My older daughter handles the potatoes, but also pitches in on salad prep. My younger daughter takes over on desserts. So while we have some standards—my son-in-law is requesting pies—she also always arrives with recipes for something new or different from our norms. She gives me the shopping list in advance and I fulfill it, but after that, it’s all her job. And it’s wonderful. It gives me a chance to better enjoy the day. I have a lot of counter space so we each have our station and can do our own thing. I really look forward to this every year because we’re now most three adults working together, although I, as mom, am the deciding factor in all disagreements.

Thanksgiving, my holiday for as long as I can hold onto it.

Reinventing Yourself     

You know what I’m talking about. You wake up one day and realize you have to start the next phase of your life. In my case, that meant the kids were truly grown and gone. My kids have finished college, and graduate school, and are productive members of society. One is married; both have good jobs and are totally self-supporting. (I freely admit to getting them four years of college, but after that, they knew we were there to help out if really needed but would not be supporting them. To give them credit, they have only asked if there was absolute dire need, and even then, they hated to do it.)

But then I realized, what’s next for me? Yes, I worked full-time, but it wasn’t the only thing I wanted to have time for. My husband has been known to travel frequently—although he comes home on weekends—so I have a lot of free evenings. I have never had a large group of friends so I don’t go out all the time. What do I do?

Back to Before...the Craft Effect

In my case, I don’t think I want to really change my life. I just want to get back to things I had lost out on doing before. So, lately, I’ve been making a real effort to get back to them. I’m finishing crochet projects, and keeping track of others I want to do. I like to challenge myself to learn new patterns and see how they go. In fact, I made a scarf just to see if I could get it to look like the picture (although I left off the fringe they had; to me it was a little too cutesy to add fringe with heart shapes crocheted into it). Turns out I had no trouble making my work and the picture match, so I then gifted the scarf to a friend who wears a lot of black (the scarf was in black and white). Turns out her car color is slightly off white with black stripes. She thought the scarf would match that really well so it’s now a seat accessory on the passenger side. It never occurred to me that I could go into the auto accessory business but it might be a thought. 

While I was in Denver for my first grandchild, my other daughter found a Tunisian crochet class scheduled at her favorite fabric/wool store. I took two mornings off from babysitting and did that. I've always wanted to learn Tunisian but could never figure out how to make it work. One sentence from the instructor, and a couple of illustrations later, and I was off  and running. There will be a second set of classes out there in February--and you know, I really should visit my granddaughter more often.

And I had a needlepoint project I’d been working on periodically. I’ve never paid a lot of attention to needlepoint stitches. Since I’m left-handed, I hear a lot of complaints that I work funny. But for the latest project I actively lookied for different stitches to give it more texture. That’s been fun, and worked out too. Final review will come from that granddaughter since it's hanging over her crib.

The other issue is that I have psoriatic arthritis--light on the “psoriatic” (for which I’m really grateful); heavy on the arthritis (for which I’m not that grateful).  Any needle/crochet work helps keep my hands more limber, which I really need. And, the work helps me calm my mind. I really need to do more in the evenings so I can turn myself off to sleep.

Finally

But I think it's really about what I really want to do going forward. My editing business is picking up but I can't stare at words, whether on a computer screen or on paper, all day. It's not good for my eyes. And we all need to regularly change things up in our lives. I once saw a commercial for an arthritis drug. I don't remember which drug they were selling, but I do remember one line the character said: If you rest, you rust. It's time to polish myself up.

Who Do You Shop With?

My favorite form of exercise is walking. When I want to really get into it, especially when it’s cold or rainy—or a little snowy—I go to a mall. It’s indoors, it’s big, It’s warm, I can do laps. But malls mean window shopping. I have a friend with whom I do “dinner and a mall.” We meet in a department store, go for a bit at one of the mall restaurants—we have our favorites and alternate among them—and we walk.  But that’s also window shopping.

I’m really not a big shopper. I like to look at displays, but getting my wallet out of my bag means that I’m probably looking for something in particular—for myself or as a gift. That’s when I want another opinion, but who should I use.

I don’t look at prices on things that other people buy, and I don’t want them to look at the price of what I’m buying, The woman I do dinner with first shares her coupons with me; I share with her. After all, if we’re not using them for ourselves someone should benefit. I would rather shop with someone who will give me an honest opinion on how I look in whatever I try on, not a comment on my budget. Which leads me to who I’m willing to shop with.

Yes, I shop with the woman I have dinner with. We’ve been friends for almost 50 years and know each others’ tastes well. But we never comment on each other’s budgets. If I’m not paying for something it’s none of my business anyway—unless I want the same thing. I just want an opinion. It she doesn’t like how it looks, or if she thinks the fit is off,  she will tell me that, but only that. But I have other friends I won’t go into stores with. First, there are those who want to tell me how to budget. It’s my wallet; stay out of it. Plus, these are sometimes people who don’t know how to budget themselves—trust me. I’ve heard many tales of money woes. If you can’t manage your budget, don’t come near mine.

If I Didn't Ask for an Opinion...

Then, there are those who want to toss my wardrobe and start fresh with how they believe I should dress. Personally, I think my clothing choices are fine; I was once told by my boss that I dressed too well for the office, I was a bit taken aback by that one and decided to ignore it. The only time I’ll worry is if they tell me something is ripped or that my clothing is dirty—and that’s never happened. I have sometimes appeared slightly wrinkled, but usually only if I’m tired and not paying attention when I leave the house. And, by the way, I kept on dressing “too well.” (She, however, always dressed down; I’m not sure she even changed the jeans she wore all the time that often, although she said she had several pairs just like them. I kept my mouth shut on that one.) I think my clothing style is fine and suits me. No, I didn’t wear jeans for most of my life, but I didn’t have the patience to figure out what “worked” for me in denim either. I’m definitely not the type to try on 15 different styles in one clothing type to find out what works. If I try on three of anything and one works, I’m done.

Don't Disappear Either 

And then there’s the third category. I met someone for lunch—at the mall—and said I had to stop into a store to look for a particular color in pants. She came along. I went into the dressing room, tried on a couple of pairs of the pants I might want, picked one, paid, and then had to find her. No interest in anything I was looking at or even an offer of an opinion. We stopped to look at wallets for her and I said something—just from my view. She appreciated it but she had no interest in what I was doing. I’m still deciding if that was good or rude. I’m probably going to err on the side of good, but I still find the complete lack of any interest at all odd.

Obviously, I have friends on all sides of the issue. I think I prefer to shop with the ones who are at least interested in offering an opinion when asked. Total disinterest is always startling to me. But I’m still going to avoid the ones who look at the price tags on my behalf, and those who want to reinvent me. I’ll stay out of their budgets and choices too. For those cases, it’s just “lunch/dinner and a ….” I’m trying to keep my sanity.

Off to the mall now!

Reason for Parenting

Reason for Parenting

I’m on a plane back to New Jersey. I was out of town for better than 2 weeks visiting the newest member of the family—my granddaughter, Sela. She is our first grandchild, born to our firstborn daughter. There’s something very poetic about that. And while I’m all right to be heading home, I already miss her. No, she cannot walk or talk, and probably has no idea of who I am, yet to me she is gorgeous, smart, and one of the greatest additions to our lives.

A friend of mine told me that there is an old Welsh proverb, one that I can paraphrase here but also totally agree with: there is no love so pure as that for a grandchild. To that concept I’ll raise a toast (in my case a diet soda or glass of water) and say, “Hear, Hear!” I don’t think there is anything more true Yes, I love my children, but having Sela can only expand our hearts—and theirs.

I have spent a lot of the past 2+ weeks helping my daughter out, and reassuring her that she will be a great mother (which she will) even though she’s getting very little sleep these days. I have ignored the cranky – Sela isn’t cranky, she just can’t talk yet so has to scream to make her feelings known – and been able to hold a grandchild who wants to hold her head up, even though it comes crashing down, usually on her nose, very quickly. Who thinks that standing up is a great idea—although we all know that once she pushes up there is only one way for her to go. She has a lot of patience, although when she’s in her crib and manages to roll to her side you can also see she is startled, trying to figure out where to go from there. Her hand went by her face and she was fixated on it. Helped her stop crying, although she had no idea where it came from—or where it went when she put her hand down.

I’m entranced by a baby’s ability to be totally focused on you for one second, and be totally conked out and sleeping the next. And as she’s sleeping, and making faces, you wonder what she’s dreaming. Most of the time I think they’re good dreams, but there are those grimaces I wonder about—nightmares already? Her life is good. There are regular feeding times, and diaper changes. She already knows the touch of both her parents and instantly calms down if they hold her. So, why the grimaces? Not enough adulation? We’re all in awe of her.

And the Flip Side

 And as I finish this I have to also wonder about the end of life. Less than a week after Sela was born, I lost a friend I held in high regard. No, we weren’t in touch often, but when we did speak we could just pick up where we left off as if no time had passed. Unfortunately, it seems no one I knew had even heard he was sick—and it seems he had been for a long time. But I have to admire him; knowing he was sick he continued to work and travel as much as he could. That’s how he chose to live his life; I can only hope that Sela does as well—and for longer.

Reading Is My Life
 

My parents say that I was born talking, and haven’t stopped since. That's probably because there were no books before then. I think I’m frequently very quiet, try not to say all that much, listen a lot…and have my head down reading.

I say I read a lot. As a freelance editor, I can have considerable downtime, and if I have everything else I need to happen done, my mind is buried in a book, the news, the Internet. It’s been like that since someone explained to me how letters fit into words, and words became stories. The alphabet for me is my greatest companion. I just get it. When my sister, who is four years younger than I am, decided that reading was boring, my mother sent her into the library stacks with me so that I could make recommendations. She reads a lot, too.  I think my mother wanted to raise readers…and she met her goals.

People are always surprised to hear how much I read. And what I’m looking at. Yes, I read a lot of romance novels, both good and bad. My argument for that is that as an editor, I spend a lot of time on really heavy subjects with a lot of very long words (and yes, I can even spell most of them myself; for the rest, there are medical dictionaries—and Google.) When I’m done with that, I need an escape. Mindless fiction provides that. But so do mysteries, other blogs, fantasy, magazines…you get the idea. While today I get most of the news I read online, I still like a good paper book.

What to Read

So, what do I read? A lot of news. My regular routine is to start with CNN, then the Huffington Post, Politico, the Washington Post, and several days a week, the Drudge Report. Sometimes, I also look at the National Review, which for me is a bit far out there. I am constantly amazed at how many views there are of the same story One person shoots another, the responses range from there are too many guns out there to there are not enough guns out there, to all those with mental issues should be locked up, to it is all a liberal conspiracy, to the conservatives are ignorant, and my favorite, that God decided to do this because he or she is not studied in the schools. The Comments areas are fascinating.

Then, I have a folder online called “Fun Stuff.” This ranges from Dr. Oz to fashion to  some TV networks to the Daily Beast (which probably belongs in my News file but wandered over here instead). And I have a folder for other blogs. I’m particularly fond of some on personal finance for women (I’ve sent links from those to my 30-something daughter). And I read up on technology as well as job hunting and views from people of my age—the middle years.

Reality is that if a headline catches my eye, I’m more likely to read the story. Why not? I believe that if we limit what we read we are closing ourselves off to other viewpoints. And I like to know what others think. I may strongly disagree with them, and think they are out of their minds, but unless they advocate killing, maiming, or hurting others, they have a right to their views. And if they do want to kill, maim, hurt others, then they should be checked on.

I was on a plane a while back with only one paperback. The other one was buried in my carry-on in the rack above. I hated that book and had to put it down. I had been researching e-readers for months (I’m also known for extensively researching items before I decide to buy anything besides clothes and shoes; if I ever decide to get one). A week later I had a Kindle and 200 books loaded.  It’s been a godsend. And again, I have books in at last 10 categories on it (my family will tell you I tend to sort things that way as well; just makes it easier to find something to fit my mood). 

Creating Lifelong Readers

Having said all that, you should know that I made my children into readers. My younger daughter especially reads very widely, particularly in fiction. She has recommended a lot of authors to her parents and for the most part, it’s worked out well. I always think back to kindergarten for her. She is a bright girl who has always had a lot of interests but somehow hadn’t taught herself. Plus, she was the youngest in her class so based on the results of the prekindergarten testing (something I really never understood but it was required), I had her tested to find out just how bright she was. When I showed the results to the school principal he commented that he didn’t believe she was that bright because she wasn’t reading. So, I went off to the library, got some very early readers, and had them in the car on the way home. With her older sister’s tutoring, she had the first one done by the time we got home—and her sister was very excited over being the tutor. A week later I went back to the principal and said, “We’re reading, what’s next?” That effort has meant that wherever she is now, there’s at least one book in her bag, along with a puzzle magazine if she’s on a train or plane. Her sister travels with at least 2 books in her bag. On one plane trip she learned how to do crossword puzzles, so she has at least one of those magazines as well.

What’s the point of all this? Only to talk about my love of reading, and to encourage everyone to try it. At the time it was founded, I read about the Reading Is Fundamental program. It put books of all kinds into the hands of children just to get them to start to read. There’s nothing wrong with reading only sports books, or comic books, or any one subject. Reading Harry Potter books led children to read on other subjects because they started to discover that they liked to read. I always advocate just starting.

Now, what page was I on…

Is Empty Nest Syndrome Really That Bad?

So many of my friends have dreaded the departure of their children for college. What would the kids do without them? What happens if they get sick? Said children needed to be within 90 minutes of driving distance so their mothers could get to them quickly if they had a cold. Maybe the kids should get home at least every other weekend.

My question, and everyone would look at me like I grew three heads, was, why are we obsessing on this? Didn’t we raise our children to be good kids? Don’t we trust them? Ultimately, shouldn’t they leave anyway when their educations are done and they go off to forge their own careers and start their own families? Yes, in today’s economy that might be a bit of a pipe dream, but it should be what we want for our children—shouldn’t we?

I like to think that I raised my daughters in a way that allowed them to go off to college knowing that they could handle most of what came at them. They knew how to study; they knew how to make friends; hopefully they knew that drugs and alcohol were not their best choices as a big part of their lives. But some things I couldn’t teach them unless they left home; and we were at the other end of the phone line, and could be there in just a few hours in the event of an emergency.

Returning to the empty nest problem: I sent one daughter off to college in the late ‘90s; the second left in the early 2000s. I had three years with just one child at home…then, no one. When the second one left, I was okay. All right, I cried a couple of tears as we left her standing alone amid several hundred freshmen waving good bye to their families. But it didn’t really hit me hard for quite a few weeks. Then, one night, I came home late from work, my husband was out of town (he was traveling a lot for business at that time), and the house was dark. And there was no one to talk to. We won’t even get into the part where I was hoping someone (maybe the cooking fairy) would have made me dinner after a long day. That was a startling moment and not easy to get over. I really had to start to think about what I was going to do.

The next weekend, we set up a light in the kitchen that went on automatically at a certain time so I didn’t walk into a dark house. That fixed a lot of problems. I walked in and could turn on the radio right away—there were no iPods or tablets in my life then to keep me company—for the noise value. And I had to start to think ahead a little more on meals. It could be handled.

And there were positives in the empty nest; they just took a little longer to find. I was able to go out more in the evenings without checking to make sure the children had something to eat/read/do in my absence. Yes, the high school student is quite capable of taking care of him/herself but you know we like to keep an eye on them when they live under our roof—even if we can’t see them. I had dinner with friends in the same position; could go to a meeting 20 miles away; sign up for a class I never thought to take before. Plus, if I wanted to go to bed at 7:30, I could. And I had some peace and quiet at the end of the day that allowed me to come down from some high-stress days at the office. Ultimately, it turned into a good thing.

Don’t get me wrong. I love when my family is here with me; we enjoy each other and have a lot of fun together. And my daughters still look for private time with their mother to just talk about their lives. When things get crazy, I just walk away and spend 15 minutes, usually in my bedroom, to regain some inner calm. Reality is that an empty nest, while traumatic when it first happens, can be survived. And life can be enriched by it.

Oh, and that light in the kitchen? We still have it. Not walking into a dark house always makes things better.

A Grandchild Is Coming!
A Grandchild Is Coming!

Finally, it’s coming. We’re going to be grandparents in just a few weeks. My mother will be a great-grandmother. My sister will become a great-aunt, which I suspect she’s more into than she was when she first got nieces. All of our friends are anticipating this event. For us, we’re almost the first in our circles to hit this milestone.

Speaking of my mother, she’s ecstatic. I think she thought it might never happen – her late best friend was up to five of them, but now there is no way to, as they say, “kvell” about it there. But every day I am asked, “What’s the word from Denver? How big is the baby now? I’m telling everyone I know.” I’m with her; I want to talk about it too—to everyone.

Have you seen how many tests the mother-to-be now has to go through? In my day, there was a little blood work, and if there was any concern, maybe an ultrasound. Even amniocentesis didn’t happen too often, and it was usually done only in select hospitals. Now they have whole panels of tests for very specific areas. Ultrasounds are commonplace, with pictures sent home with you. The only one that really bothers me is the digital one, which can show the face of the baby. And there are also prebirth tests to make sure the delivery can’t transfer germs to the baby. Who knew about this stuff years ago? And yet the kids usually arrived just fine.

How do I feel about this? I think I’m ready for the next generation to arrive. I like the idea of another member of the family, although this time I don’t have to be the primary caregiver and will be there for play dates. I’m with the group that believes grandparents are there to provide support—especially mentally and emotionally—but also to play with the kids, wear them out, and then return them to the parents and let them calm the kids down. I’m not sure I’ll overwhelm a kid with sweets though. This time around, it’s just payback.

I haven’t had the heart to tell my daughter and son-in-law that while they’ll always be special people, the grandchild has moved to the top of that ladder.  And what can be more special than that?  It’s the main rule of grandparenthood. Now I make sure to check out baby clothes in every relevant store I pass. Don’t know what we’re getting yet but I’ll be prepared.

Time to get to the big event.

Why Blog?

Why does anyone blog? They either have an expertise in an area that appeals to others—or offer free advice that readers appreciate and can apply to themselves. Or, they have life experiences that they feel will help their readers and are applicable to others. This blog probably falls somewhere in between, with more of an emphasis on the second type of blog.

Who am I? I am a mother of two grown children, the wife of a financial business executive, an editor with experience in general topics including medical/pharmacological areas (feel free to get in touch if you need editorial help; I have reasonable rates). I have some friends—not a lot—with whom I’m close; and a lot of acquaintances. I’m also a really good speller. I read a lot of my daughters’ papers throughout their college years, still sometimes review my husband’s memos for typos and general comprehension, and will even provide instant advice on grammar and wording when asked nicely.

This blog is here because my friends like to talk, and they tell me I’m a good listener. Some of my friends, and even acquaintances, sometimes think of me as their therapist.  I am a very good listener, who will offer an opinion if asked, but doesn’t get crazy if you don’t do what I say—but I will come back and say I told you so if you go off on a path that then causes you more problems because you ignored me. I also don’t always talk a lot, so I’m the speck on the wall who’s just taking it all in and thinking about how what I hear applies to other things in life.

Of course, that also means that I internalize a lot of other people’s stress, which isn’t good. I’m hoping that this blog, which will be a combination of my observations of what others do and my thinking about those actions, might help alleviate that stress. And it also might strike a chord out there with others who, like me, have reached a new point in their lives and need to figure out which road they want to go down next.