Vegas Baby!

Nicole is a Senior at SDSU. In what can only be defined as "shocking" she will graduate on time, in four years, this May. Not shocking because of who she is, but rather shocking because of who I am. She did not tell us or consult with us about the endeavor to complete college in four years, but rather ponied up and took three summer school classes last summer and then 20 units each semester this year. Had I been asked, I would have advised against this. I would have said, "Jesus. No! Don't do that." At the very least I would have said, "OK, do that, BUT work very limited hours." Guess who still worked about 30 hours a week? You can read blog posts of mine from about 10 years ago and know that Nicole hasn't changed. She is still over achieving and I am still, at my core, trying to force her to underachieve. We rarely find a middle ground. 

I am in San Diego helping her move. With one semester left, she has traded her college house filled with 5 roommates and headed to the beach to share an apartment with her boyfriend. You can pause to do your thinking and judging there, but it turns out her father and I just aren't conservative in this area. It also turns out she found a darling apartment a block up from the bay and in a neighborhood a lot safer than the one she left.

It is a luxury to be here helping her move. When our children were little I worked. And quite honestly I worked hard. For twenty years I worked full time and raised children. Now I don't work and I am adjusting to parenting young adults. This meant with the boyfriend out of town with a family emergency, I came to help with the move. And by help I mean we did it all ourselves, just she and I.  

There was the eight hour drive down with my car stuffed with beach cruisers and patio chairs, the renting and driving of the Uhaul in San Diego (not my most relaxing experience), the hoisting and lifting of beds and dressers, and then the making of lists. We visited Target, Marshalls, the grocery store and the Good Will several times. In between all of this, she worked.

Her working hours left me with some down time. It has been a weird year for me in terms of down time. Earlier this year I took our High school Jr. to New York to participate in a program for a week. I dropped her off and she stayed in the dorms while I had a week to myself in New York. I haven't had time to myself in 20+ years, and then within the course of a year two separate events and the retirement have left me with this grand luxury of time. 

This luxury of time has given me a chance to focus a little on myself. Time to focus on myself in the past has been limited to the half hour a week where all four children were at overlapping after school activities and I would park the car in a random parking lot (because it wasn't worth the time or effort to drive the car all the way home) where I may or may not have cried from exhaustion for the entire half hour. 

Focusing meant addressing some middle age weight that had been sneaking up on me. Something I like to address as middle aged fuckery. The 20 (or 30) pounds that appeared because it turns out you can't eat a big bowl of  popcorn with a peanut butter M and M chaser, sometimes accompanied by a glass of red wine, every night and still wear your jeans. It turns out I was smart to address the issue as I now have a Vegas situation looming ahead of me.

Not only is Nicole graduating, she is also turning 21 next month. I had always promised a Vegas trip. Nicole is young. Last man standing here. All of her high school and college friends have been 21 for at least a year, many for two. When the trip wasn't going to pan out with friends right at her birthday, I asked her if she and the boyfriend would want to go with her dad and I. I'm not going to lie, I was thrilled when she said yes. So, we started planning Vegas. And we are both very excited! 

My excitement includes finding a hotel with some spa amenities and gathering restaurant recommendations. Her excitement includes looking for "Sexy Vegas" dresses online. They are fabulous these  dresses. They are also very short, very tight, and very low cut. I am concerned about our Vegas selfies. I feel certain  the capri and tank top outfit I find "sexy" is going to look like Nicole went to Vegas with an Amish woman. So now, focusing on myself includes finding a "Sexy Vegas" dress that falls somewhere between Amish and Girls gone wild. Humor me when the pictures are posted and insist I kept the Amish portion to a minimum.

Better than my recent great luxury of time in my life, is the relationship I have with Nicole. I will not sugar coat what is the mother/daughter relationship during the teen years. It is complicated and difficult and energy sucking and defeating and tough, with brief (very brief, extremely brief) moments of joy thrown in to keep you hanging on to the belief that you can survive it all. I will have had the great pleasure of having done the whole dance five times. Once with my own mother and four times with my daughters. 

I came out the other side with Nicole. We talk every day. She asks for advice, she doesn't always take it, but she asks. We watch some TV shows together, some I choose and some she chooses. She over achieves, I listen and feel bad about my under achieving. I'm grateful.