I spoke to Sophia today. She called to thank me for the colossal care package I sent her. She said the mail room attendant told her, “Man, that thing’s heavy.” It was. 28 pounds.  I kind of overdid it. And it wasn’t the first time. Perhaps I am overcompensating. Her friends are on to me. They’re placing their orders. “Tell your mom to send those lemon cookies again. And some brownie mix.”

You see, I miss Sophia. But somehow, I don’t think she’s missing me. And quite frankly, I’m relieved, because I was afraid that she would and that would have been awful. She’s not homesick in the least. The day before we left her at school she was weepy and anxious about me leaving. I assured her once we separated she would be fine. She has a four day break this week and I told her if she wanted to she could fly home for the weekend. That reassured her.

Today she informed me that she was going to Washington to her friend’s house for her break.

“How are you going to get there?” I inquired.

“My friend has a car.”

“How long of a drive is it?” I gulped anxiously.

“Five hours.”

“Make sure you wear your seat belt,” my timid, lame response.

What more could I say? She’s an adult now. No further interrogation from me. What I don’t know is probably best.

When I think back to my own college years and the bomb of car I drove it’s a wonder I survived. No seat belts. The brakes didn’t always work. Seriously. My parents let me drive this clunker. (They also let us play with dart guns.) And the passenger door would occasionally fling open. It was advised to not sit too close.

What I don’t know is probably best.

It really warms my heart to see the genuine love and affection between my two girls, Sophia and Eva, and Paul’s daughter, Cheryl. There is definitely a very strong bond between them. For instance, last week I took all three girls to the drug store (stay tuned for my next post on condom buying research for health class) and while I was immersed in what I was shopping for, I looked over and saw Cheryl put her arms around Sophia. She needed a hug and Sophia complied and there they stood in Walgreens, embracing. It struck me as very dear. But the next story is even more special.

As I have mentioned previously, Sophia is going off to college in Portland, OR this fall and her dad, my ex, Jared, is planning to drive her and Eva up the coast on a road trip. (I will fly up separately.) He’s talking about renting a car one-way and possibly taking the train home. It should be a wonderful end of the summer trip and a great send off for Sophia. Both girls are lobblying their dad to take Cheryl too. As Sophia opined to me, “Cheryl really, really wants to come.”

After Sophia’s birthday party dinner Jared, Sophia, Eva and I were alone and talked about the planned trip. Both Sophia and Eva piped in, “Dad, can we pleeease bring Cheryl with us???”  I assured both girls that we would fine a way to make sure that Cheryl would be able to join them. The next day when I spoke to Jared on the phone he said he would be happy to include Cheryl in his plans. What a great dad!!! What a great guy!!! And what great sisters three girls are!!! The trip is going to be so much fun and something great to look forward to all summer.

Today was Sophia’s 18th birthday and in keeping with our birthday traditions, we’ve been celebrating all week. Monday I took her on a shopping spree and bought her some new clothes. Yesterday we headed downtown and ordered the cake, an ice cream one from Cold Stone Creamery. Coffee Heath Bar Crunch, I believe was the flavor. Today we went out to lunch and I made Sophia’s favorite birthday dinner– homemade pierogies.

It was such an amazing day, to see your child become an adult. I couldn’t be prouder of her. She graduates next week and in a few weeks will start her job at the boardwalk. Then off to college in the fall. It seems like just yesterday that she was starting kindergarten.

A few nights ago we were  sitting outside enjoying an outdoor fire when the conversation turned to camping. Cheryl has been dogging her father for years to take her on a backpacking trip where the two of them hike into the woods, pitch a tent and fish for dinner. Apparently this is something Eva has longed to do as well, so the two of them cornered Paul and made him promise to take them. They also made me promise that I would not go since they know I don’t enjoy camping and would whine and complain the whole time and they are right about that.

Once it was agreed and a date was set for a weekend in July, Cheryl and Eva got busy planning their trip. They pulled out all of our camping books to decide on a destination and made notes and lists in a designated “camping notebook”. The supplies included two tents: one for them and one for Paul, just in case he snores (or eats too many beans, if you know what I mean.)  It was a joy to watch their excitement. And a delight for me to know that my daughter Eva would beg her stepfather to take her somewhere and feel comfortable and safe with him.

Later I told Paul, “These girls are so excited you’d think you had given them the moon. You’ve given them something to live for.”

This week the kids are off from school for spring break and Sophia is in Maine as a houseguest of one of her friends   With her gone and all of the other kids still here, it feels like a prelude to how it will feel when she goes off to college next year, an event that I suspect will be much harder on me than it will be on her.

She took the red eye  Sunday night, and aside from my Monday morning text to her to make sure she landed safely, I have resisted the impulse to call/text her with my usual barrage of questions: “How’s the weather? What are you doing today? Had any lobster?”

Sophia and I have always been very close and now that she is a young adult (almost 18) our conversations have evolved to center on more mature topics like politics and current events. There’s been some doozies in the news lately l and I felt a palpable void when I could not go into her room to discuss them with her. I reached for my phone many times to call her and stopped myself. I need to learn to let her be, I rationalized. She’s on her own and I have to let go. She doesn’t need her mother hassling her with intrusive questions. And then… last night around midnight (EST) I got the following text:

“Mom, I visited the first L.L. Bean store EVER. There’s still snow on the ground. I went to a Jewish Passover dinner. It was fun!”

She was thinking about me too. I beamed with joy.

This past weekend, Sophia and I headed East to Philadelphia to visit Drexel University to determine if Sophia would attend there next fall. After traveling on three airplanes (BBQ in Austin, deep dish pizza in Chicago and a total travel time of 12 hours) we arrived late Friday evening, after a trip to WaWa, at my sister Nina’s house in Malvern, PA.

Saturday we did the usual mother/daughter shopping bonding and made the rounds of visiting our PA and NJ cousins, who each lobbied their case for Sophia to attend school on the East Coast.

Sunday was the big day. Read the rest of this entry »

This past year Sophia has been very active in a community service group that targets alcoholic awareness in teens. Fortunately, I have never had to deal with this issue with my kids and from the stories Sophia has told me, I didn’t realize the full extent of the problem. Luckily, there are teenager alcohol rehabilitation programs available along with other adolescent addiction treatment plans. The statistics on this epidemic facing our communities are staggering. Alcohol use remains extremely widespread among today’s teenagers.  Nearly 72% have consumed alcohol (more than just a few sips) by the end of high school, and more than a third  have done so by eighth grade.

I’ve heard stories from teachers that they have caught kids drinking vodka out of water bottles in middle school! What always boggles my mind are the kids who get the alcohol from their own parents. A few months ago, Sophia was with her dad at a Greek festival downtown, where she observed one on of her friend’s mom buying her shots of ouzo (the Greek version of tequila) and downing them together. I know the  girl and it has been rumored that she has been in and out of rehab twice. What was that mom thinking? She’s only 16! I realize that kids who want to get their hands on alcohol will, regardless of the restrictions that are put on them, but they should never, ever, get it willingly from their own parents.

The grueling college application process is finally coming to a close and I have to say from my perspective, and from Sophia’s, it was brutal, with emotions vacillating between the euphoric victories of acceptance and the crushing defeat of rejection. I keep telling Sophia that this is a pivotal point in her life, the first time when she will truly have to face life’s difficult decisions and the disappointments that often go with them. Finding out that you didn’t get into your “reach school,” as they say in college app parlance, is a lot harder to take than not getting that part in the class play. And it only gets worse.

When Sophia started applying to schools back in November, I couldn’t help but recall my own experiences 30 years ago. Back then, it was a lot easier to get into college with less kids applying (because in those days you could still get earn a decent living without a college degree) and a lot more financial aid to do so. I applied to two colleges and got accepted to both. The schools I chose were “safe” schools, ones I was assured that I could get into. Some of my more academic friends applied to Ivy League schools and got accepted and I always wondered if I would have been accepted too had I applied as well. It is a feeling that has haunted me for years. The regret that I didn’t even try. So when Sophia told me about some of the hard-to-get-into schools she wanted to apply to, I told her, “Go for it.” Why not? She had hope. And it is that drive to attain loftier goals that sustains us. Having the courage to face rejection is a noble trait and because of that, Sophia will go far in this world. I couldn’t be more proud of her.

Sophia got into three great schools that can all offer her an excellent education. She has narrowed her choice down to two, one in Portland and one in Philadelphia. Her dad is taking her to tour Lewis and Clark this weekend and I am taking her to my home town of Philly next weekend to visit Drexel University, and then she will decide. This is only the beginning. And she’s off to a great start.

All five of my kids are looking for a job, whether it’s summer employment, babysitting or part-time work after school, they are all in the job market. Paul and I have been trying to guide them with advice on how to not only get a job, but how to do a good job.

I, for one, have peformed just about every service industry task you can imagine. Waitressing mostly, but also hotel work, bar tending and retail sales. My kids are sick of hearing me tell this story, but I have done it all. And that makes me a seasoned expert on what it takes to get and keep a service industry job. And at the risk of annoying my children, I often take the opportunity to point out the shortcomings of the wait staff in most restaurants. (I’m sure to be discreet so as not to embarrass the server for my kids.) For instance, I might advise, “If you are serving soup, make sure the customer has a spoon.” Or, “Don’t ask the customer if they want desert if they are still eating their dinner. ”

Today, while standing with Sophia at the deli counter in the grocery store, an opportunity presented itself that I consider a  ”a job seeker’s teachable moment.” While we were waiting for our very efficient and gracious server to fill our cold cuts order, there was a gentleman next to me, about my age, who had ordered a sandwich. His server was a young woman, late teens probably, and appeared to be kind of a whiner. Here’s what happened.

She gave him his sandwich and he decided to order another one, and get this, she got annoyed with him. She hissed, “I wish you would have told me sooner that you wanted two sandwiches, it would have been so much easier to have made them both at the same time.”

I cringed. Surprisingly, the customer actually apologized and explained that he had just made up his mind to order a second sandwich. Unbelievable. I seized the moment and pulled Sophia aside and cautioned her, “Never, ever, ever, speak to a customer that way. If you do, and your supervisor hears you, it would be grounds for immediate dismissal.”

To Sophia’s credit, I don’t think she needed to be told. I shudder at the thought of all the kids who don’t know any better.

Yesterday, while I was having lunch alone in a cafe, there were three men sitting at the table next to me. It was close quarters, so I couldn’t help but eavesdrop on their conversation. They were all young fathers with toddlers. One was expecting a second child soon and they all speculated how the older child, about 3, would adjust to having a younger sibling. The father announced proudly that he thought his son would adapt just fine. He announced, “He’s getting very independent. He’s almost potty trained.”

As a mother of five teenagers, I chuckled to myself. All of those early milestones… holding a cup, feeding yourself, taking your own bath and doing your own algebra homework are all significant and worth remarking. Now if only they could get a job, pay off their student loans and take care of us in our old age. Now that would be an accomplish worth  celebrating. Those three fathers have no idea. Ignorance is bliss, I suppose, otherwise no one would procreate. All I can say is, “Good luck to them.”