(*Swiftie reference)

I survived April vacation with the girls, but now this week our little guy’s daycare is closed Thursday and Friday so I will be back on full-time mom mode for a bit. The weather has been glorious the past two days, sunny and 70ish degrees which is perfect for sitting on my porch and contemplating…everything. I don’t even know what to say about the state of things at this moment in time – politically, economically, philosophically – so focusing on the lilacs budding and the forsythias blooming is 100% necessary.

I found myself in a right funk today though, realizing that it’s a) almost my birthday and b) that it’s been almost 2 years since I left my full-time job. Initially I had grand plans for some time off, but our then-foster daughter’s little brother was born and came to live with us. Raising kids is hard, and raising OTHER people’s kids is even harder. I don’t regret it one bit, but it was one of life’s unplanned detours. I was admonishing myself for not accomplishing anything I had planned during my “break”… but of course I didn’t. How could I.

The grass is always greener, though, and comparison is a thief of joy (as the saying goes). I felt the same way during my maternity leave when, rather than launch a side business or write a novel, I sat on the couch mainlining CNN and breastfeeding (with occasional walks to the taco place near where we lived and Target runs) and recovering from an unplanned (but likely inevitable) c-section. It’s way easier for me to focus on the things not going well, or that I don’t have, rather than what is right in front of me. I now have two daughters, and whether the little guy stays with us or not I will always have him in my heart, a son that I imagined sleeping in our spare room long before he existed. That’s what this is all about, right?

I’ve also been missing my father lately, and sort of oddly was wondering what happened to an old photo of the two of us at the ocean. My mom gave me my birthday card a few days early and, lo and behold, inside was a copy of that photo. I cried, of course, and then cried harder because I felt dumb crying over a photo, but also the coincidence was the sort of coincidence that feels like a message. The thing is, I know Dad felt really strongly that older people shouldn’t have children; I remember a long conversation with him once because he had read an article about children conceived by older parents had a higher chance of being schizophrenic (among other things). And I know he didn’t like the idea of adopting from foster care either, believing that the kids “have too many problems”. I was thinking about this yesterday while drinking my iced coffee at a local eatery, when my ears perked up at the sound of three older gentlemen discussing Johnny Cash. Another flash of grief, followed by a chuckle to myself. Another “Hi Dad” moment from the universe.

And then, yesterday: I do not know what transpired at school, but my oldest daughter came home and announced it was time to get her ears pierced. We tried two years ago, twice, and both times she couldn’t go through with it. I saw something in her eyes, though, or maybe it was something I heard in her voice, that told me this time would be different. She went through it this time, and in one weird flash I saw how much she has grown this year – not just taller, but more wise and mature. She also proved something I have known since she was born: if she is determined to do something, just get out of her way and let her do it (and be prepared to hand over your bank card). Also: she had blue eyes when she was born, with little speckles in them, and I thought they looked like constellations as if she had been born of stars. When I first heard Taylor Swift’s “chart the constellations in his eyes” lyric I knew exactly what she meant, because I will always remember gazing into her eyes and wondering who this baby girl was going to be. And now I’m starting to find out.