one age

I was German club president in high school.
This picture is wrong on so many levels! 

The other night I attended a function at my daughter's high school called "Meet the Broncos," where the players from every fall season sports team are strewn across the football field and personally introduced by their coaches to bleachers full of community members and proud parents. As I made my way to the seats, my daughter's tennis-skirt clad girlfriends waved wildly from the field, lovingly calling my name. "They like me," I thought. "They really like me!*" I returned their gestures with a high two-handed wave accompanied by a random body wiggle. My daughter, also in the tennis line, turned red, covered her face, and did a 180º. I like to think I'm the cool mom, but let's face it, a mom will never be cool to her own daughter. I am OK with this.

I love these sweet, goofy chicks and I heartily applaud my girl for choosing them as her friends — every one of them, quirks and all, are precisely the caliber of human beings I'd choose to hang out with on a daily basis. I'd also gladly hang with any of the now jr. high/high-school aged kids who attended the home preschool I ran back in the early 2000s— they were, and still are, some of the funniest, most loving human beings I've ever had the pleasure of knowing. Which brings me to the point of this blog entry and pretty much the theme of the entire blog: Who's to say that a 49-year-old mom can't enjoy a friendship with a high school student or a preschooler — or a senior citizen, for that matter? Aren't we all really 17 at heart?

I would have completely rebuked this idea back then in favor of the comfort of my own little high school box. What could an older person possibly have in common with me? But now I see how messed up that train of thought really is, and how much I missed out on by not having one in-depth conversation that I can recall with a teacher, parents' friend, or neighbor.

Indeed the core of my being remains my high school senior self, although after 32 additional years of life experience I am now a much wiser version. (And by life experience I mean failure after miserable failure!) Yup, the shy senior whose yearbook appearances consisted of president of the German Club on page 119 and a first row center in Advanced Vocal Ensemble on page 176 still pretty much sum me up. And through graduations and marriages and children and careers and all the things one goes through in a lifetime, I actually learned stuff — stuff I that may or may not be valuable to girls (and maybe boys too) of any age. Like the new color of nail polish I just discovered and the realization that I really am smart. And despite my daughter's inevitable mortification at the whole idea, I'm going to share some of them here with anyone who will give me the time of day.

I hope you like the blog!

* Click here for an old person's explanation of above-cited reference: You like me. You really like me!