Wednesday, April 9, 2014

So, remember that time...

I'm waiting for my picture I took on my new phone to make its way to my e-mail so that I can download it to my computer so that I can upload it to here. Joke's on the blogiverse... It's like not even a good picture. But it's a photo of what I'm working on. Well, it's a photo of my hand actually. I'm doing a painting for my friend's wedding. They're doing an exhibit in conjunction with their wedding. I'm pretty stoked. Shit, if anyone can make it all work out it's these two. My friend's been through a shitstorm, and he's been held up by this wonderful woman who I don't know well, but who I love because of what I intuit about her. Oh, I think I sent my picture to somewhere else. O.k. I fixed where it got sent to. Here it is.
I know, it's just a hand. Burn! A dirty hand! That's what you waited for!

Phhhewwwwhhh...

So my kid left me (again) yesterday/today. He went to Albuquerque for an internship. This was his first time flying as a real human (he was a tiny baby the first time, so it doesn't count). I was so nervous. I pretended I wasn't, but I was so nervous. I gave him so many tips.
  • Don't tell anyone you're only 18.
  • Read the NSA guidelines.
  • OMG, don't say you were born in Canada.
  • Pack your pepper spray in your checked bag. (He did not do this - this infuriates me! You are allowed to do this!)
  • Tell everyone that this is your first time flying so that they feel sorry for you and provide you with extra love.
So many things not packed. So many things unsaid. How do you do this? How do you just chuck your kid out at the curb and say "Good fucking luck! Don't take drugs! Stand up for yourself! Don't let people use you!" Holy shit! It's too much for a mother to absorb. It takes several days. And so many beers. He sent me a photo of his "furnished" room with his "bed"... God...

But he says he loves it there. He is ready for this. This stuff of adulthood. I am absolutely not ready. But I am trying to be ready. And I am preparing for it to happen again with the next one. The next child. God...

"It's a new dawn, it's a new day... It's a new life for me, and I'm feeling good."

My kids are really good kids. Like REALLY good kids. How did this happen?
  • Maybe because they saw struggle.
  • And they saw joy. 
  • And pain. 
  • And laughter through the pain. 
  • And more laughter because that's all there was. 
  • And coping. 
  • And more struggle, but not not defeat.
  • Never defeat because they are capable of reaching the stars despite everything.
  • We believed in them. We believe in them. They can do anything. They can do all things.
If you can do anything for your children, it's to simply drink beers while they go take over the world. Stay out of their way. Send some money if you can. Tell them that you love them. Tell them that you are so proud of them. Drink beers so that you don't tell them that it's all too hard. That people are mostly shitty. Let them think otherwise.

Let them touch stars.

While your hands shake.