choices

It's hard to grow up.

Let me re-phrase that.

It's hard to be a grown up.

It seems as if my own life can be dissected into a series of choices and consequences. Suddenly, I'm 40-something and still questioning the decisions I made so long ago.

My almost grown up little girl is feeling the pressure of making her own choices. The first of many. Most of which will impact her for years to come.

Our college visit went very well. With the exception that Randy and I embarrassed Annie. Which caused several sudden outbursts as to Why on earth she even wanted us to come along with her. GEEZ! At first, it was when Randy took the free sample of deodorant (for Abe - he loves deodorant) Then the big issue with the map of campus.

Apparently, nobody gave us the memo. That would be to NEVER pull the map of the campus out in broad daylight to find our destination! Because when you do this it is most obvious that you are a visitor. As if a beautiful 17 year old girl being followed by a middle age bald man and Eddie Bauer-blue striped sweater wearing woman (with a mom haircut) weren't a dead give-away!

Now onto what this blog is all about. Me. And more importantly - What this college visit meant to me. It can be summed up in one word.

Bittersweet.

First, the sweet. That would be the visit itself. I didn't go on any college visits when I was her age. I didn't have the opportunity to listen to counselors tell me about a business degree or what it would take to become a CPA. I didn't tour a dorm and wonder how I would fit all my clothes into that tiny closet. This part is always fun for me.

I listened intently to every word they told her. When we toured the Senior Studio in the Graphic Art department I imagined her working on her final project before graduation. I could feel the camaraderie and the stress of those young adults. And then when she talked to the counselor about Elementary Ed I imagined Randy and I helping her get her classroom ready for the first day of school.

The bitter??? That stinkin' thorn in my side. The choice I made so long ago and how it still makes me feel.

My grown up choice is to support my daughters 110%. Wherever they choose to go. Whatever they choose to be.

And then when they are 40-something they can know that, back in the day when they didn't really know so much afterall, the choices they made were still good.

And, hopefully, they remember how I was cheering them on every step of the way.