I was 42 years old when David came home from Korea.  Forty-two was the top age limit to request a healthy new born.  As much as we would have liked to expand our family, we were too old to go through the Korea Program again, and China just didn't seem like a viable option.

We'd heard that if the Birthmother became pregnant again, and was not able to parent her baby, the adoptive family was contacted, in the hope of keeping birth siblings together.  For a long time, we hoped that would happen.  It hasn't.

David is having nightmares.  He wakes in the middle of the night, fearful of earthquakes, tornadoes.  He has decided we should adopt a Haitian child.

If I was 42...I would.

Am I Out of my Mind?

Yesterday was one of those days.  I didn't sleep the night before.  I was busy at work.  It was the first day of the spring semester at Monmouth, my third spring.  I'd spent the better part of the long holiday weekend helping David with a project for his Excel (that's what we call the Gifted and Talented program in his school) class.  I got home expecting to have a quiet night, and found that several of the playing cards for the Galietti project needed to be redone, I had PTA stuff that had to get collated for delivery to school the next day, I had to make solicitation phone calls for another PTA project I'm chairing (how could I say No to the chair of the Reading Adventure Committee?, ..and when will I learn to keep my hand down when they ask for volunteers?), David's teacher Facebooked me asking for a favor that involved creating a note to be sent home to 24 parents, and on top of that I had to check regular homework.  Oh, and dinner and clean up. 

I had a major panic episode. 

How, I wonder, will I fit graduate classes in?  Am I being selfish?  Is being a wife and mother enough? 

I know.  You're waiting for an update on my grad school status.  I did exactly as I said I would.  I met with Dr. V, who on the Monmouth website is shown as the faculty adviser to the program that I plan to pursue, the Masters of Arts in Liberal Arts.  The website is outdated.  Rich is no longer the adviser to the program, however, he is going to be my faculty adviser.  I couldn't be happier.

With Rich's advice, I've decided to pursue the Professional Studies track, with a concentration in English and Communications.  Unfortunately, I made my decision too late to start classes for Spring, 2010, and frankly, if you follow me, you know that I am all about summers on the beach, so I'm not starting until Fall, 2010.  I'm  working on the grad school application and I still have to write an esssay explaining why I want to go to grad school.  

I plan to use my blog as part, if not all, of my final master's project.  So, keep watching.  I'll be writing.

Hey...if you're following me, why not come out and comment? Or at least let me know who's out there?  Sometimes blogging feels much like parenting....you're talking, but you wonder if anyone is listening.

Life Lesson from my Mother

Mim.  I called her Mim.  Her name was Miriam. 

Ruthie, Mim said.  When Daddy and I were first married, for the first month or so, every morning I got up before him, went into the kitchen, and made breakfast for him.  And every morning, I burnt his breakfast.  On purpose.  Finally, after that first month, Daddy said to me, Mim, thank you for making my breakfast every morning, but you know what?  Why don't you sleep in a little, and I'll take care of it myself from now on.

Ah Mim.  I still miss you every day.

Life Lesson from my Dad

Just days after my mother died, my dad and I were sitting around, perhaps during the shiva period, talking.  Ruthie, he said to me, for years, when I made the bed, mommy would ask me to put the pillows on with the opening facing out.  It was just a thing with her.  And every time I made the bed, I did it the other way.  On purpose.  Just because.  It was a thing with me.

If I could do one thing over, I would put the pillows on the bed the way she asked me to.

Life doesn't come with do-overs.  Do it right when you can.