Tag Archives: Midlife

Another Empty Nest, Another Sad Mom

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Another empty nest

Poor mama bird, I know how she feels…

 

I found a broken shell from a newly hatched baby under the ficus tree. A pair of warbling vireos make a home year after year in this birdhouse.

 

It’s so sad that she puts all that work into building a nest and feeding her babies and they always fly away.

They always leave mommy. *sniff*

I guess that’s the way Mother Nature intended it to be, but it still sucks.

Facebook is full of moms who can’t wait until their children turn eighteen, almost pushing them out of the nest with a packed suitcase and a sigh of relief so they can resume their “lives”, but that’s not the way I feel about it.

As much as I’m bursting with pride at the independent and successful young professor he’s become, his bedroom is still quietly waiting — just as it always was, with fresh sheets on the bed, clean clothes in the closet, and his favorite books lined up on the shelf.

In the beginning, when he first left for college (years ago), the hardest thing to deal with was the silence — the QUIET was deafening. I have no idea how one child could fill up the space with his presence, but he did.

Now, nothing makes me happier than a call telling me he’s coming home for a visit (sigh) so I can load up on the ingredients for his favorite foods.

You know how mama birds feed their young, don’t you? They regurgitate partially digested insects and worms directly into the beaks of their babes.

I’m not THAT extreme, but you know what I mean.

It’s one of my greatest joys to watch my son eat.

I admit it. I do. I sit across from him at the table and soak it all in, every single mouthful.

(Don’t feel sorry for him, he’s used to it.)

And then he leaves again, and the quiet fills our house and our hearts.

Can you guess that I’m missing my Angel Boy right now?

Older. Wiser. Better?

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Many years later, still puzzling things out.

SELFIE PUZZLEStill the paramount focal point of any photo.
Still fabulously attired with beautifully coiffed and beribboned hair.
Still unable to fit round pieces into square shapes.
And yet, still, the world revolves around me.

And most importantly, still adorable.

P.S. I sent this post to hub and he emailed back that this has always been his favorite pic of me and it’s because I look so determined.

Hot, Dry. Swirling Winds of Hell Must Mean It’s My Birthday!

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I was SO happy to arrive in Carlsbad that I almost dropped to my knees to kiss the ground but then I remembered all the germs and disgusting things that people spit out, and my better judgment prevailed.

We got Angel Boy all settled in; now I’m working on creating meals and recipes that are appropriate for post-surgery, and that includes a lot of things we NEVER have in the house: white bread, white potatoes, white rice.

Because of that major abdominal surgery, he’s on a low fiber, low residue diet for a couple more weeks, and then we can gradually add cooked veggies and fruits, with the goal to be back on his regular diet in about six weeks.

I’ll set aside a whole post of recipes that I’ve adapted to meet his specific needs. It’s tough for me ‘cos I’m all about whole grains and tons of greens and wheat grass and smoothies, and I think all Angel Boy wants is one of my famous two-pound breakfast burritos. He’s lost about ten pounds that he didn’t need to lose (why can’t that be me??)

Before all this happened…the phone call at 3 a.m., flying east and living at the hospital for ten days, I was planning to write a really funny post about my birthday (which is today) — something about the face of 60 — yes, I mean SIXTY YEARS OLD — and how I still feel like I’m about thirteen, and then take a bunch of selfies to commemorate my special day — but I’m too busy helping my son recuperate (a full-time job).

,,,AND I just drove to the airport at 5 a.m. to put my tugboat man on a flight ‘cos he’s going away for a month — ON MY F-ING BIRTHDAY!!!!

Live is not fair, you guys!

Geez, nothing is working out for me today. I can’t even go shopping and drown my sorrows in some good old fashioned retail therapy.

And why is that, you ask?

Because SoCal is under some witchy-type spell and the boiling hot bowels of hell opened up; we’ve got record-breaking 100 degree temps AT THE BEACH in May when it’s normally cool and cloudy, and raging fires have started which turns the air all smoky and unbreathable, thanks to almost hurricane-force winds blowing from the east — a true Santa Ana that we normally only get in the fall.

To make matters worse, there are armies of ants invading every pore of our house —  even the ants are trying to escape the heat — and I’ve gone through an entire can of Raid in my attempts to dissuade them from setting up residence at Casa de Enchanted Seashells  — which means the house smells like insecticide — can you hear my screams of frustration?

Well, it’s back to cleaning and laundry and making special food every two hours for my Angel Boy. Hopefully, it’ll cool off a bit later on and we can go for a walk on the beach.

Happy Birthday to me!!!!!!

P.S. You must know that I’m really happy to be caring for Angel Boy and spending my birthday with him is an added bonus — considering that we might have lost him, even the thought of another bowl of Cream of Wheat can’t dampen my joy!

The new face of 60…(along with the top Chanel makeup artist from NY)

chanel makeover