I remember always be the last kid to get picked up from school or sports practice. It was so embarrassing. Recently, my son was the last one to be picked up from daycare. Guess what? He survived, and so did I.
I love my minivan so much that a regular old blog post didn't seem enough to announce its advent into my life. As I searched for inspiration, the same line kept popping into my head: "I like minivans and I cannot lie..."
The metamorphosis is insidious. One day you're behind the wheel of a cute little wagon, and the next you're driving a mobile garbage dump with fossilized Goldfish on the floor and previously undiscovered life forms multiplying under the seat.
My plan when we picked up the van was to take a picture of me lying dramatically on the hood, giving my saddest "I've been dethroned from coolness" face. But after driving it for .08 seconds, I realized my shame was vain and THERE ARE TWELVE CUP HOLDERS.
Women over 60 have lived through six amazing decades. Throughout our lives, with a curious and adventurous nature, we have challenged the status quo and celebrated our independence and freedom. Many of us have had to build enormous emotional reserves to manage and survive difficult times.
When I see a family struggling to get their kids buckled into the safety seats in an SUV, I just laugh. Anyone who chooses an SUV over a minivan because they're worried about looking unhip will quickly need to figure out the coolest accessory to go with a bad back.
I am slowly learning that the skills required for being a parent of grown children are quite different from those required to parent younger children. The early days seem easy now. These days require more: listen closely, practice restraint... not my strong suit.
Dear Ana, I'm writing to give some insight into a day in your life with Christian and your children in 10 years' time. You're probably more shocked by this snapshot of your future than you were upon first entry into Christian's red room of pain. I know.