The Teenager is about to launch. For college, that is. A financial strain in more ways than simply tuition. There’s the day-to-day upkeep I will continue to be fiscally responsible for. The trips home. Those other costs that are unexpected and usually, unwelcome. As a parent, I can make certain deals with myself. I’ll pay for this-and-this but not that. And when I start to go down that rabbit hole. I’m reminded of the same thought patterns I had when I was pregnant. “When I’m a mom, I will only use cloth diapers.” These absolutes that I thought, in my child-free brain, were aligned with my principles as a feminist, as an environmentally-concerned individual, as an idealist. The reality: when I had the baby, out went all the supposed standards I set for myself. And in came the humanity, the maternal tug, the access to myself I hadn’t had before. I wonder if another side of me will reveal itself to me when The Teenager is living in Boston, new to physical independence. What parent will I be? I know the parent I have been: supportive, available, practical. I have paid for her housing, her classes, her travel for the whole of her life. I have said “No” to so much, always due to financial strain. Can I maintain a balance? I hope so. I hope I can continue to be the parent I have always been. I hope she can live in Boston, feeling confident and practical about the things she wants to do. I hope I can continue to be the parent that I want to be. If I can do that, I will be quite pleased.
Happy 84th birthday, Jane Goodall!
Anne Lamott: “So I set out to share, through my writing, almost everything I know that gives me hope, because hope is medicine, and water, buoyancy, and the way home.”
A film about Grace Jones? Yes, thank you.
Seriously, screw college. Right, Chelsea Handler?
Don’t mess with Theresa May, bitches.
Go OKC Teachers, go!
I’m not the only person obsessed with clogs.
Oh, beauty, you are a beast.
Girls who likes boys who like boys who like girls.
And now have a laugh with Nikki Glaser.