This was the official picture from the Mother Daughter Dinner dance that I attended with my daughter, Autumn.
31
May 2012
My baby girl, class of 2012.
Her graduation party was just a couple of days away, and I needed a picture of her in her cap and gown. I wanted to put it on the board with the “first day of school” photos that I had collected over the years. Like this one from her first day of preschool:
Her first day of preschool, class of 2012.
And she hadn’t officially graduated yet, so she had not yet put on her cap and gown, but I needed the picture.
I woke her up even though she didn’t want to get up. I made her do her hair (although she skipped the back) and makeup and put on all of her regalia, assuring her that the honors sash was placed correctly.
She smiled for me even though she was tired and grumpy, and I woke her from her warm bed to take her picture on a morning when she could have slept in if only her mother would leave her alone.
I got my picture, but it was just practice.
The graduation gown still held wrinkles.
We’re doing a lot of practicing lately.
She is practicing being a newly-minted adult (12 days and counting), and I am practicing being a parent of an adult.
She is planning her future, and I am listening.
I am practicing not being the mother who is responsible for this minor who is no longer a minor, and she is practicing being responsible for herself, the adult.
She is practicing moving out, and I am practicing accommodating her when she comes back and stays for days at a time. She is a whirlwind, and after she leaves again, I go around the house and pick up all the little pieces of her life that she left scattered around our home, neglected and left behind — even the things she didn’t mean to leave behind.
I referee her interactions with her 14-year-old sister because when the two of them get together they both forget they were taught manners and to be nice.
She makes plans like a grown up and talks about being responsible for her own bills and having her own place and then she calls me on the phone and asks me to drive her here and there and why can’t her 16-year-old sister ride the bus instead of driving our vehicle, so she the practicing adult can drive our vehicle instead?
Can you do anything other than laugh when your 18-year-old daughter, trying to be very adult, stands there staring at you and your husband, her face mimicking her tantrum-throwing toddler self, and demanding (trying oh so hard to be an adult), “I want a solution.” I think she was even tapping her foot waiting impatiently for us (in her mind) to be adults as well. To which my husband replies, “you need to go to bed.” To her credit, she did go.
Practicing, it seems, is paying off.
She graduates Sunday, and the graduation gown will be wrinkle-free, and her entire head of hair will be done. She won’t be grouchy, and I won’t be dry-eyed.
30
May 2012
Yesterday, I had my 9 month update with my surgeon. According to their records, I was down another 9 pounds. Overall, I’ve lost 72 pounds. I want to get to 155, so I have about 28 pounds to lose. I don’t have a deadline for when I lose that much.
It was a quick appointment. My surgery scars are healing well. It’s hard to even see a couple of them.
The photo above was from this weekend. I’m the second from right. It was my daughter’s (far right) graduation party. Also pictured are my brother, my mom, and my sister.
I kept telling myself that I wasn’t going to stress out at her party.
That worked right up until the day of the party when I was sitting in a restaurant waiting more than an hour for food to be delivered, and the LOOONNNNGGG list of things I needed to get done before the party started in less than 3 hours.
Once I was freed from the restaurant and managed to get a few things checked off my checklist, I was fine again.
The party went well, I think. I enjoyed the people who came, and I was surprised by how many made it. There were even some that I didn’t manage to see. The party stretched out between our front and back yard and some never made it to the back yard.
Her actual graduation is Sunday.
I plan to find a dress to wear tomorrow.
24
May 2012
This morning, our house is short on transportation. So much so that my husband opened the hood of my car, pointed out a part, handed me a tool and encouraged me to show some cleavage if I thought I needed help replacing said part later today.
Yes, yes, he did.
I also ruined my middle daughter’s day by notifying her that she would have to (insert gasp here) ride the school bus.*
Life is hectic, and we have a big family, which means everyone is off in different directions.
Last night, I was driving to Grand Rapids for work, which is a two-hour drive. When I arrived in downtown Grand Rapids shortly after 5 p.m. (aka rush hour), I noticed my car wasn’t running right. The engine light came on, and as I slowly crept through a parking garage, my car stalled out.
All of this made me realize, my car was not operating right. I am an automotive genius.
It is not easy to drive a car that keeps stalling through a parking garage, but I managed it.
Also — cell phones and GPS machines quit working in the bowels of a parking garage.
So, I parked the car and climbed out of the garage to where I had cell service and called my husband. He was about 3 hours away and couldn’t really do anything, but at least he would have a clue if I somehow didn’t manage to arrive home later that night.
Then I went to class and pushed my car out of my mind as I explained things like citation and grammar to a room full of eager (it was the first night) students.
After class was over, three hours later, I remembered my car troubles. I went down to the parking garage and popped my hood to check my oil. I had oil. I got into the car and tried to start it. The car died almost immediately. I tried again and managed to back up inches before the car stalled again. Once more, and this time, the car managed to back up halfway. I got out of my car and checked the ground to make sure I didn’t have any major leaks. Nothing. This was good.
Keeping one foot on the gas and one on the brake, I managed to get out of the parking spot and limp over to the place where I needed to swipe my parking permit. I wondered if a tow truck would even make it into the parking garage, and if it did, how would that work in terms of paying to get out?
Would I get out? It was the first time I tried to use the parking card. The first swipe showed it was an “invalid” card. I had visions of being locked into the parking garage (it has happened to a co-worker). My car was dead, and I wondered even if I did get it swiped would the arm thing stay up long enough for my car to drive through?
Through trial and error and a little mounting panic, I learned that I needed to tap not swipe my card. The arm thingy opened, and I started my car, and finessed the gas and brake pads and made it through. Then I had to go through another arm thingy but that one opened right up without swiping anything.
Out of the garage, I had cell service and called my husband. I gave him the symptoms, and he gave me a prognosis that I didn’t understand. My husband is a licensed and certified auto technician, which is a fancy way of saying he is a mechanic. He assured me that I would be able to drive home.
The trick was getting out of downtown Grand Rapids while keeping the car running without stalling and without turning the wrong way down a one way. I managed it, and I only made one driver pound on his horn because I made him wait 3 whole seconds while I had to restart my car at a stop sign.
I made it home. The car didn’t even act up once it was on the highway and not required to stop every two seconds.
This morning, my husband put a handheld scanner on my car to diagnose its problems. The scanner indicated NOTHING was wrong. When my husband started my car, the engine light didn’t even come on.
Of course, it didn’t.Isn’t that always the way cars behave when you take them in to be fixed?
Within seconds though, the car gave in and had to reveal that it really was ill.
My husband says the problem is the idle air motor sensor. It sits right on top of the engine and attaches with two bolts (are they bolts?) and on the other end a cable. He handed me the tool that fits the bolts (he didn’t say they were bolts, and I’m not sure what they are but for my purpose here today, they are bolts). He showed me how to disconnect the cable. When I buy the part, he said, I can remove the bolts and cable and attach the new ones. He said if I had problems, show some cleavage and someone from the auto parts store will probably help me.
He has way more confidence in the power of cleavage than I do.
I am 85 percent confident that I can do it without help.
This may or may not fix the problem, but my husband said, “you have to start somewhere.”
Did I mention I have another trip to Grand Rapids today for another class? That’s 4 more hours of driving. Let’s hope the part works. The good news is that if I do break down in Grand Rapids, I have family in the area.
I could drive our gas-guzzling truck, but my children need a way to get to their dentist appointment, so the truck isn’t an option today. Plus there are things going on after school (Little League game, senior awards night, activity night, softball practice) that my family needs to get to and back home again. Can we pile on a few more things to do?
*For those of you extremely worried about the daughter who had to ride the school bus, you can breathe easy. She managed to call a friend who agreed to give her a ride to school, so said daughter did not have to go through the tragedy of riding a school bus. Crisis averted.
17
May 2012
My daughter is a senior in high school, and to celebrate that her school hosts a mother/daughter dance just for senior girls and their moms. It was last night and here are a few pictures from the event:
Autumn and I before the dance started.
The girls of our family: Maxine, Linda, Amanda and Autumn
Linda, Steve and Autumn
