I had a wonderful summer, dare I say it was the best I have ever had. Yet I never left my hometown at any time during this season , and I gained a good solid 8 pounds. I  watched bad T.V. and ate all the food . ALL THE FOOD. I  took walks , had conversations that turned into life lessons and went out for late night runs to Twistee Treat - I  mentioned all the food, right? The best part was I did not do this alone, actually if did that would be scary... I  did it with my sweetest, best-est friend who also happens to be my daughter. It was a summer of lasts and we knew it. We were not going to fight about stupid stuff, we were going to laugh, watch dumb You Tube videos and shop. The shopping was second only to eating in time spent together. Every weekend was a marathon of dorm decorating and lunches. The nine weeks from graduation until today went by at warp speed. Today was the day my little girl left to go away to college and I had to let her go. Granted she is 30 minutes away, and will no doubt come home a lot , or as often as she needs her laundry done. But she left her room, her doggies and her home of 18 and a half years this afternoon and life will never be the same. Her life, and my life all changed forever. I am no longer the one she sees when she rolls out of bed, hair a mess, Superman t-shirt on whining for coffee. I  am not the person she will run to anymore to show the stupidest cat or dog video ,or ask me to watch an Insagram influencer with her . Those moments are to be shared with her new people, the people who will become her college friends, and ,more than likely , her life long friends. And I'm happy for her, so much so that I  ignored my nausea and panic these last 9 weeks to have the best time and further solidify our relationship. Today the stuff came out of the boxes we have been collecting for the past three months and was put to use and became the backdrop of her new home for the next school year.  Her room is great, her view is spectacular and her two roommates are adorable. She is at a top notch school in a fabulous city that she has always wanted to live in the heart of. She is ready. I am getting there, between bouts of crying and smiling to myself. From the minute they put this little girl in my arms I  knew she was meant to do great things, and I was meant to be thereto witness it. So this is Day One. So, as this summer ends and her life begins I know that she'll be fine in this new arena of independence and self awareness. I  just want to thank her for the best summer I  have ever had , a summer of nothing special was in fact the summer of everything I could ever want.

                         Let me begin by saying I have not "played cards" since I was 15 , sitting at my cousin's house in Queens eating Italian pastries and listening to adults bitch about their lives.  Yet I  am a nurse. I have held a few types of nursing/medical positions over the years since I graduated in 1994.  None of them included master poker player, or even master break taker.  A state senator that I had never heard of put her political foot in her idiotic mouth this week by stating nurses get plenty of "breaks" in their 12 hour days and probably spend a good portion of it "playing cards".  I read it, then re-read it incredulously, wondering who, if anyone, could be this blind.  Nursing school was , hands down, the hardest thing I have ever done in my life.
                          Now, I have worked in three very different nursing venues over my lifetime, taking a big, long break so I could raise my children ( never had time for card playing then either). The first job I had was a supervisor in a LTC facility , 3-11PM shift.  I was 23 years old, and had two hallways full of patients to oversee, learning on the fly how to handle the dead weight of an 85 year old dementia patient, or the intricate wound care necessary for a life long diabetic. Sometimes these were the same person. I remember sitting down at 10:30 PM to chart , by hand. There were no cards in those hands as I recall. I did learn a lot and most of it was from the CNA's who made me look a little less like an idiot. (And they were never sitting down - much less playing a rousing game of Go Fish).
                          The rest of my "hands-on " nursing career was spent in home health care. Time management and independence is what nurses learn in this genre of nursing. I  spent a good part of my days listening, bandaging, teaching, advocating and then driving to the next location to do it all again. I ate lunch in my car,  stopped at convenience stores to pee , ensured my supplies were kept in two separate parts of my trunk- sterile area and non sterile area. I did this 5-7 times daily , then went home and did my progress notes , made necessary phone calls to my supervisor and called it a day. I     don't recall shouting "Gin" at any time during the work day.
                           Now I am in an administrative office, with no hands-on patient care but I still interact with them via internet or phone. My current position does not require a nursing license but it helps. A LOT. I  have learned a whole other side to medicine now ,and work with many types of people including Doctors and executives . Guess what ? THEY'RE NOT PLAYING CARDS IN THEIR DOWN TIME EITHER.
                             So, you see Senator Shit head, you know not what you speak of.  Stating that nurses do not need mandated breaks during a 12 hour shift is like saying you will never need a nurse to take care of you. It's ridiculous to assume that you know what they need, but rest assured they will know exactly what you need when you are sick and hospitalized. Just count your lucky stars I will never be your nurse because your call light would be secondary to my Poker game.

                       "...I have squandered my resistance for a pocket full of mumbles, such are promises..." What does this line mean to you? It is a line from the song "The Boxer " by Simon and Garfunkel ( I  need to put this in here so I don't get sued by their estate). I think they're dead? Right? I'm too tired to look up that pertinent fact .. so I am crediting them early on. Anyway, back to the meaning of that line. I  am going to be honest , I used to think it said "squandered my EXISTENCE" , and by used to I    mean up until fifteen minutes ago when I  looked up the lyrics for accuracy on Apple Music. You see , the word existence made a lot more sense to me when put in a sentence with squandered.  I have been questioning my existence for a while now, as do most mothers of children on the verge of beginning their own lives. I  seem to have fallen into a grey area of living. I  am needed by my family, but not crucial to their survival . I  am needed at my job, but really anyone can do it ( the temp they get to replace me when I am out is 78 years old , so ...). I  am turning 48 in three months , the time I  have spent up until now , has it been wasted ? I  mean it is definitely more than halfway over , probably less, thanks to my genetic makeup and heart disease/cancer /diabetes trifecta in my family blood line.  So, you see the words that I thought were "squandered my existence "spurred on my deep thought process regarding the state of my life and it turns out that wasn't even the damn lyrics.
                     "... Squandered my resistance for a pocket full of mumbles..." has a whole different meaning. It means you sold out, gave up your true self for the path of least resistance. Well fuck, I did that too. Turns out that's even worse than what I originally though old Paul and Art were singing about.  I sold out my dreams and wants for the life of motherhood and being a wife. It was enough for many years, but now I am needing more. This makes me an awful person to some of you, I  know. I  struggle everyday with the yin-yang pull of "you are enough" or "you contribute nothing " feelings . I stay in bed a little longer,  eat a little more junk food and listen to sad ballads by 1960's musicians . I  have self loathing and resentment. I  am probably depressed , like I was back in college when I realized I was in the wrong major and had a breakdown because of the money I had cost my parents. Yes, that's true. Hardly anyone knows it but now everyone reading this knows it. And that's ok , because I have a feeling some of you may be feeling the same. Especially after you look up the lyrics to this song and listen to it ( you know you are going to). We are all Boxers , just fighting everyday , for what we want, what we were and what we hopefully can still become. I  am depressed,  I am at a crossroads and I  am going to make every attempt to rectify the "squandering " of both my existence and resistance in the near future. Some of you may not look at me the same anymore. That's ok , neither do I .

                   

                                 Some people would say I had a two year reprieve . They would be right, and it would be an understatement. I did get a two year "furlough" so to speak, from my eldest child leaving home to go to school. Believe me, back in 2015 I thought he would go. He had many college choices and , among those , some were pretty far away from home. But when it came time to decide, he chose one right here at home. Actually, he chose 2 schools in the last 3 years that both were local choices and the economical decision was to go to school and live at home.  All the while still allowing me to see him everyday. To hear him shuffle (already STOMP) through the house, foraging for food in my (always picked over )pantry and to hear him play his music, which was slowly becoming his passion.  He transformed his 12x12 bedroom into an electronic studio , teaching himself how to do a lot of the sound and audio "things" he wanted to learn.  So, when one day last Spring he decided to start looking into audio/sound engineering schools, I was not surprised. He took the initiative for this search, unlike his college search, applications and essays which I had to force upon him back in high school. He toured schools , in Florida and Georgia , and ultimately made the decision himself. He figured out where and how much he was willing to spend on this degree, and when he decided , it was presented to me. That is not how 17 year old Zach did things wayyyy back when as he prepared for college. Now I know why... he was not ready. He hadn't found his PASSION. He was going through the motions, like a minion , like so many of us , and he was not ready to leave home for a choice he did not feel strongly about. That's how I know he's serious , because he is a homebody and he is truly excited to start this journey now, as a person with a plan and a goal.
                                   So, now the time has come for him to go pursue the choice HE made.  He found an apartment and his beautiful girlfriend of 6 years is going with him, also making her own choices and blazing new pathways in her life. I have had the great pleasure of spending 2 extra years with them both . I will always cherish our family dinners, our walks in the neighborhood, our funny conversations and all the things we did together in the two years where most kids are away at school. I got to know my child as an adult , and I love him for letting me do that. I joke that my grocery bill will go down tremendously, but I know that so will the level of laughs and fun in this house. As I was lying in bed last night I start thinking about how I will have one less kid here, everyday. No waiting to see what he wants for dinner, no asking him to bring me a coffee if "he happens to be out" and no kiss and "I love you 's " when we go to bed at night.  I began to cry , that entire body shaking, uncontrollable cry.  I was crying out of sadness, but not for him . It was sadness for me and how much I had grown to expect that beautiful smile to be here EVERYDAY.
That was selfish of me to think I would always have it in my house , like it belonged to me.  It belongs exactly where it is going, with him on a path he chose and a timeline he made.
                                  So, for all you parents who haven't yet experienced this, or maybe still have an adult child at home trying to find out where they belong in the world, it's ok. Those loud footsteps to your pantry will fall silent soon enough .... focus on that beautiful smile they give you every day while you can.

                                       When your baby is born, screaming it's first screams after barely being out of your body for 30 seconds, you automatically cry. Whether its outward crying, or inward crying your emotions are raw and you have one million feelings about the little being that was just taken from the safety of your womb. I had this happen to me 3 times. I was extremely lucky to feel that 3 times. But 17 years ago to the day, I had my second child and those emotions were magnified tenfold because my doctor spoke the words "It''s a girl".  You see, I had a feeling I was carrying a girl , although never confirmed by any ultrasound or test I had to undergo. I want a girl so bad. I NEEDED a girl , someone who would be sweet and loving and enjoy all the same things I did.  In the first few minutes of her little life, I saw it all flash before mine.  Sparkly dresses, shoes, Barbies, hair and nail appointments together, dating advice, high school dances ,college trips. All of it was flashing before me on November 25, 2000 and I was elated.  Everyone was oohing and aching over her orange hair and super tiny little body , and I just kept thinking "She's mine. I have a DAUGHTER".
                                        I have been very fortunate all these years, she HAS been mine .  First my sweet baby, then my independent elementary schooler , then evolving into my mini me as she became a teenager. She has never disappointed me, and she always makes me proud. But more recently she made me look deeply inward at myself.  I was not the mother I thought I was, I was not living up to who I wanted to be for her. She was exploring religion on her own (I left the catholic church years ago and let the kids decide about their faith for themselves), she was in a evolving mature relationship with a boy and she was balancing work, cheer, and her difficult school load.  She was becoming less and less MINE and more and more HERSELF.  This is what is supposed to happen , children grow and evolve into who they are going to be. She is everything I saw flash before me 17 years ago in the delivery room plus a million more things I could have never predicted.  And I want to be a better person because of her.  I look at her and the way she handles things, both adversity and success, and I am humbled. I did not teach her that, that she learned on her own.
                                           I now know that when I met this little person 17 years ago, in the early morning hours ,still on an adrenaline rush from the delivery she was only meant to be mine for a while. She was put here for great things, and she is now on the cusp of those things. And I am fortunate enough to still be here, watching and learning just who this little feisty girl will become.  It's like watching a Polaroid picture develop when it starts to come into focus, it is still a bit fuzzy on the edges but you just know it is going to be a keeper.  Happy Birthday to my beautiful Sophie , thank you for being mine all those years... keep me around a few more ,will ya?  I love you.

                    Tomorrow I will be married 23 years, to the same person. That is half my life , sharing everything with one man.  It seems that a marriage that lasts 23 years is something like Big Foot; People claim to have seen it, it is fuzzy and unrecognizable in pictures , and is very rare indeed. I think it is an accomplishment to have been in a marriage this long, and I think an accomplishment deserves recognition, especially in our society of "disposable "everything. There were times, I'm not going to lie, where throwing it away would've been the easy road. So I think my marriage deserves a trophy, or maybe even a plaque. Yeah, a plaque. It would have to a 16x20 size, to fit everything it needs to say on it, but I have the wall space . It would say what the last 23 years have given us and would go something like this:
                      Over the last 23 years, Steve and Krista Davidson have had...
                 - Three beautiful children, spaced perfectly apart . Well ,perfectly if you want to be on PTA's for life and never want to finish a payment plan for braces or college funds.
                  - A mortgage(a few, actually). On a house that we could barely afford 6 years into our marriage . But then when we could afford the payments, someone (Steve) decided to shorten the term (twice) making it ...you guessed it ..difficult to afford AGAIN.  But thanks to that special , long term thinker we are almost done not affording it, and are actually pretty close to owning it.. outdated kitchen , leaky roof and all!
                    -Many sleepless and angry nights, which is the likely outcome when 2 people who are opposites in every possible way decide to live together FOREVER. We have a "type A " personality trying to mesh with a proverbially "Mr. Easy Going", a Southerner trying to learn how to cope with a girl from Queens , and a well known thrifty shopper constantly paying for things the , shall we say, "non thrifty" shopper brings home. (a lot of those things are ALIVE). The old saying "Opposites Attract" is so very true, but opposites also fight like rabid dogs over the course of 23 years.
                     - A life of love, laughter , happy tears, pride and discovery have also filled these 23 years , outweighing the financial and personality problems.

                       This may be way too much to fit on a plaque, and maybe that's why it is silly to think that such an accomplishment can be measured in this manner.  It is measured in days and nights of learning exactly what "I do " meant all those years ago... And we are still learning. I don't know what the next 23 years will bring, but whatever they do at least I know I won't find out alone.
                        Here's to the next 23....Happy Anniversary Steve.

           I am a woman, so I have feelings. A lot of feelings. Feelings that sometimes color my entire day. I have gotten to the point where I wish I had no feelings, you know, like a MAN.  Boy how nice it must be to just turn on ESPN, pop a cold one and forget the world. I have so many feelings in the course of the day, feelings that I work hard to talk myself out of , because they are not what I SHOULD feel. Although they are probably valid, they are not socially acceptable. They are feelings that should not enter the mind of a woman who seemingly has it all. I mean , on the outside I seem to be very , very together.  But on the inside...well let's take a look. Warning: these feelings may not be suitable for all readers , especially those with no hormonal fluctuations .
           So, I am lucky, I have a lovely house in a very nice neighborhood. I should feel grateful and full of joy that I live there . And I do , for the most part. But on the daily, I also feel annoyed and frustrated with my 17 year old home. I am annoyed because I can't afford to update my incredibly dated kitchen and bathrooms, I am frustrated because no sooner do we fix one thing , than another thing craps out. (Which is why I am can't afford any updates) , it is a vicious circle and my feelings sometimes are very bitter regarding my "lovely house". These are feelings I work hard to hide so people don't think "what an ungrateful bitch". But , in reality I am kind of an ungrateful bitch and I blame Joanna Gaines.
           I am also very lucky to have the three beautiful children , and I am very grateful for them.  Really, I am. However, there are feelings that arise in me often (by often I mean pretty much every day).  These feelings are the ones I have to suppress for fear of being thought of as a terrible mom. But I'm going to come clean, I feel unappreciated and invisible ...ALOT. They have had me around 24/7 for 20 years, and take me for granted. Then I go back to work and I am expected to still do the 24/7 mom thing with 27 less hours a week to do it. It makes me need to step outside , sit alone and remind myself I am VISIBLE. I mean my kids love me, that I don't doubt. But my feelings regarding motherhood are not always sunshine and unicorns , like we all pretend to feel when we talk glowingly about our children. I cannot be the only one feeling this way, and I sure as shit am not the only one suppressing it . Well, don't tell me if I am just nod and agree, like one would with a crazy person.
             As a woman, I think we are expected to just smile and take care of everything, both at home and in the workplace. To show how we really feel is a weakness. At my job, which is a basic entry level administrative position, I suppress feelings every hour of my 8 hour day. I took the job as a part time gig,  just to get my feet wet again . I am not doing it for the money, which is a good thing because I barely make any. I am not doing it for the respect, because that's non existent as well. I smile and do my job and pretend 25 year old executives know what they are talking about . It is so damn  exhausting doing that much suppressing , that I actually need the 4 days off a week that I get to regroup.
              Feelings are in every part of my day, and I wish people could know how I really feel about things. But it's best that they can't. I mean I am a smiling, happy blonde who lives in a nice house and has 3 beautiful kids  . It's all perfect... until I think about it. But things could most definitely be worse, and I know that, and I realize how fortunate I am . I chalk these "other "feelings up to HGTV and having ovaries.