Dear Abby:
Happy, Happy Birthday to YOU! We thought we might be celebrating together this year, here in Madison, but alas, it did not come together. When I woke up this morning I thought of you and our original plans but I actually thought it might be okay we didn't get together because I don't think I could have sustained hosting or preparing for a party today!
I just came off a whirlwind couple of weeks after my grandma's funeral. The kids got out of school, which as you know changes everything, we were on the road for Father's Day and partying it up in La Crosse with a bunch of cousins and relatives for high school graduations and Father's Day festivities, and then my sweetest ever 20-year-old cousin came to stay most of last week because she had to have oral surgery (and recover) here in Madison. By Saturday night she was ready for salsa dancing so I had my first out-til-3 a.m. night in as long as I can remember this past weekend. Sunday and Monday after, my sister Anna and her little girls were here. So today, I'm celebrating in a way that works in the context of all that's been going on. Ran this morning, had an abbreviated but otherwise normal work day -- with added awesome treats of flowers and cards and gifts from colleagues (so sweet!) -- now grabbing a little "me" time to catch up on emails and random work stuff at a coffee shop before a quick swim and a cookout with the beau and kids.
What are you doing today? I hope it's good to you, whatever it is. I fear that Frank's work schedule will not let up too much, but I hope you either get some Abby time or family time or date night time or whatever trips your trigger.
Someone reminded me today that I am now old enough to be the President. That's a little scary. Does this magical age really mean I'm that mature? (Then again, looking around at elected officials, perhaps any assumption of maturity is misled; but at a minimum our founders thought 35 was a relevant benchmark).
I do feel as if 35 is an age you kind of can't deny is up there enough that any mistakes excused by youthfulness are no longer possible (for other reasons, sure, but. . . .). On the up side, I think I've got a pretty good vantage point on drama and distraction and I'm ready to be pretty real with myself about what matters, being present, focusing on the task at hand, etc. -- a la recent posts. Do you feel that way?
I guess there are still a lot of question marks and mysteries about the world around us and ourselves; thank goodness, otherwise life would be pretty boring. But, the core stuff seems pretty settled. And therefore tolerance for BS pretty low, which can be a good and bad thing. I guess as long as you couple that with a healthy dose of compassion it's okay.
This morning Peter and I were up together getting him ready to go to a golf tournament, and I said in my pre-coffee haze: "Yep, I guess I'm gettin' pretty old, Peter." And he says, "Aw Mom; I think you're just looking at it all wrong. What you should be thinking is you're 35 and you have a 15-year-old and a 12-year-old, and a whole life ahead of you." Deep, sweet thoughts from my teenager. I cherish that one.
I miss ya, Ab. Would've been fun to party for the birthdays. But have a drink for me and spend some time this birthday week thinking about our next little reunion and what that should look like. Miss you madly, actually, and your boys. Would be cool to be around the long kitchen table with y'all tonight. We need to make that happen.
You're gorgeous, smart as hell, and full of adventure. I hope you feel all of that today and are getting some good feedback from those around you. Love!
Happy, Happy Birthday to YOU! We thought we might be celebrating together this year, here in Madison, but alas, it did not come together. When I woke up this morning I thought of you and our original plans but I actually thought it might be okay we didn't get together because I don't think I could have sustained hosting or preparing for a party today!
I just came off a whirlwind couple of weeks after my grandma's funeral. The kids got out of school, which as you know changes everything, we were on the road for Father's Day and partying it up in La Crosse with a bunch of cousins and relatives for high school graduations and Father's Day festivities, and then my sweetest ever 20-year-old cousin came to stay most of last week because she had to have oral surgery (and recover) here in Madison. By Saturday night she was ready for salsa dancing so I had my first out-til-3 a.m. night in as long as I can remember this past weekend. Sunday and Monday after, my sister Anna and her little girls were here. So today, I'm celebrating in a way that works in the context of all that's been going on. Ran this morning, had an abbreviated but otherwise normal work day -- with added awesome treats of flowers and cards and gifts from colleagues (so sweet!) -- now grabbing a little "me" time to catch up on emails and random work stuff at a coffee shop before a quick swim and a cookout with the beau and kids.
What are you doing today? I hope it's good to you, whatever it is. I fear that Frank's work schedule will not let up too much, but I hope you either get some Abby time or family time or date night time or whatever trips your trigger.
Someone reminded me today that I am now old enough to be the President. That's a little scary. Does this magical age really mean I'm that mature? (Then again, looking around at elected officials, perhaps any assumption of maturity is misled; but at a minimum our founders thought 35 was a relevant benchmark).
I do feel as if 35 is an age you kind of can't deny is up there enough that any mistakes excused by youthfulness are no longer possible (for other reasons, sure, but. . . .). On the up side, I think I've got a pretty good vantage point on drama and distraction and I'm ready to be pretty real with myself about what matters, being present, focusing on the task at hand, etc. -- a la recent posts. Do you feel that way?
I guess there are still a lot of question marks and mysteries about the world around us and ourselves; thank goodness, otherwise life would be pretty boring. But, the core stuff seems pretty settled. And therefore tolerance for BS pretty low, which can be a good and bad thing. I guess as long as you couple that with a healthy dose of compassion it's okay.
This morning Peter and I were up together getting him ready to go to a golf tournament, and I said in my pre-coffee haze: "Yep, I guess I'm gettin' pretty old, Peter." And he says, "Aw Mom; I think you're just looking at it all wrong. What you should be thinking is you're 35 and you have a 15-year-old and a 12-year-old, and a whole life ahead of you." Deep, sweet thoughts from my teenager. I cherish that one.
I miss ya, Ab. Would've been fun to party for the birthdays. But have a drink for me and spend some time this birthday week thinking about our next little reunion and what that should look like. Miss you madly, actually, and your boys. Would be cool to be around the long kitchen table with y'all tonight. We need to make that happen.
You're gorgeous, smart as hell, and full of adventure. I hope you feel all of that today and are getting some good feedback from those around you. Love!
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