Last night I had the chance to step foot onto my old college campus. It was a beautiful evening with the sun blinding us on the ride there and then warming us as we sipped on our glasses of wine on the lawn outside the new campus center which I preceeded. I was brimming with pride for my alma mater and proudly donning my name tag with year of graduation. Members of the class of '61 passing this way and that way, a class member of '75 just in front of me. It was such a treat. To see so many yarmulkes. My people! Not really of course, but I counted myself as one of them for the evening once again. I remarked to Eric that when you become a stay at home mom, your degree of education becomes a very valuable piece of private knowledge.
Ironically, today I got a letter from the Social Security department reviewing my income over the past ten years. 0 0 0 0 marked the last four. Okay, that hurts a little. No need to rub it in.
I hope to one day make a modest amount of money again. I want to put pennies in a jar that I don't empty for parking meters. But some days, it seems like Verity will be two forever. A friend of mine has twin daughters graduating from high school this year and going on to a reputable university. And I sigh and for a moment firmly believe that will never be me. My daughters will never be old enough to graduate high school. It flies by. I know. Cherish these moments. I do. May I have the wisdom to see the shortness of our days, the brevity of our lives.
Before we left for yesterday's event, I managed to lose it on the girls. I couldn't keep my cool with the finish line so close. Maybe some of you will be able to identify with the agonizing hours before the babysitter shows up. I was in the kitchen making chocolate chip cookies to ease our departure. And Verity was in the bathroom with Naomi dumping diapers, face wipes and other various bathroom items into the tub before hopping back in. Verity was in trouble. And Naomi was in trouble for watching it happen. That one's a stretch. It was just more than I could handle. Cries for daddy. Sad naked babies. And chocolate chip cookies in the oven. May they remember the cookies.