I'm No Good at Goodbye...

I met my husband on an airplane in December of 1992. You heard that right. We were seat mates on a flight from Philly to Indy for Christmas break, both of us traveling home to see family. But the story doesn’t end there. We talked the whole way and I asked the cute guy next to me if he wanted to meet for drinks at some point during the week but he didn’t take me up on the offer. To this day he reminds me that he’s shy (and I’m not) and he didn’t want to get stood up. We didn't exchange numbers (I'm not sure why but I didn't own a cell phone back then. Remember the bag brick? He got me one that January!) I chalked our meeting up to happenstance and remember telling my folks about the guy I met on the plane. But the story doesn’t end there.

A week later I stepped on a plane at the Indianapolis International airport and was looking for my seat when I saw someone waving me down. You know that ‘both arms in the air, I’m here, I’m here’ wave that’s hard to miss? It was that cute boy. Yep. We were on the same flight back to Philly. I know what you’re thinking. What are the odds? I actually looked it up once and at the time, the odds were less than .0001% that you’d meet your spouse on an airplane. You think I would’ve been smart enough to know that given I met my husband on an airplane twice, airplanes would become part of our story, right? Nope. Not this girl.

I never thought about airplanes much beyond our story but now people coming and going has become the backdrop of my life and I feel a little guilty saying that I hate airports but I do. I guess what I really mean is that I hate return trips.

I want everyone to come and stay because I’m sick of telling all the people I love goodbye in a cold, sterile environment with strangers staring at me while I cry and drag out my ‘until next time’ speech. #StupidAirports #MissMyPeeps

Back Home Again...

The kiddo is flying back to Indiana today from a quick visit and the pang in my heart is overwhelming. This kid makes everything better when he’s in the room and I miss him fiercely. I’d planned for a sixty-four mile distance between us and ended up with five hundred and thirty six. I don’t love math but even I know that’s quite a difference.

If I were an hour away instead of ten, I know there’d be the occasional dinner in the middle of the week, drop-ins to the house for whatever once in a while, weekend visits to see the puppies now and then, and meet-ups halfway in between for coffee on the tough days.

Instead we have airline reservations, drawn out goodbyes where I try not to cry and he smiles and waits patiently for me to steal just one more hug, triple checks that he hasn’t forgotten anything since he won't be back for months at a time, wishes that we’d added another day to his stay, and drives to the airport that go way too quickly although traffic is often stopped.

I’m always surprised that while thirty-one years separate us, when we share the stories of our days in the life with one another, his perspective regarding whatever is going on--with himself or his friends, with me, his dad, our families, the world… All I can say is that he never ceases to amaze me and he teaches me something every time we’re together.

This kid is the absolute best part of us. The smartest, funniest, truest version of us and I adore him.

I’ll survive these next few months watching him grow and flourish, cheering from the sidelines because that’s the job. And I’ll continue to try to live my best life when we can’t be together, because that’s also part of the job. But I make no promise about counting down the days until we can be together again. #HomeIsWhereTheMomIs #buehlerlife

I’m so sad today. So angry. And so appalled that we aren’t further along as a nation. Today we’re remembering something horrific and we’re examining all the angles. The good. The bad. The unjust. The miraculous. The terrifying. The evil. We’re sharing memories and telling our stories from all different sides and guess what, we’re doing it without hurting and unfriending and bullying and villainizing each other!

Yet we’re destroying history and tearing apart this nation, and our families, and our friendships, and so much more, on all the other days. I have no idea why we do it. Is it because we weren’t there? That we can’t truly know because it didn’t happen to us so any opinion might work? Is that it? Might we all just be arm-chair quarterbacks to events in history that we really don’t know that much about? That we really don’t understand yet somehow we’ve formed these huge opinions about so we result to the lowest form of our humanity—unchecked emotion--when someone questions that opinion? Look around you, friends. The machine is on tilt.

I think of all days today is a good one to look inside ourselves. Are we really educated about what we profess to defend or did we just read an article, or listen to a podcast, or catch a news blip and grab a sound bite so we could try to have a seat at the table? Did you try to verify what you heard, or saw, or think you learned? Did you examine the other side to broaden your knowledge? I encourage you to remember that no sheet is paper is so thin that it doesn’t have two sides.

How about we go for less media and more intellectual study? How about learning about all of the bad days in our history instead of laughing at a few memes of whatever topic is snagging it's fifteen minutes of fame and jumping on the nearest band wagon? How about taking the best, of our history and our people, and working to change the worst? Why, oh why, are we no further along?

Think about how you feel today and then think about this. If we don’t change our course, one day someone won’t like an aspect of the events of 9/11 and they’ll erase it from the books. Gone will be any trace and while it will make sense to a few at the time, is that right? One day, there will be no one left alive on this planet who remembers the stories from today. Stories like this one. Did you even know this happened? If you aren’t okay with this being erased one day? If that thought stirs something painful in your chest? Then you need to back up and search for knowledge over a Cliff Notes version of what you think you know about whatever it is you’ve hating on or hanging on to.

I’m a historian and while I don’t like much of what I learn about us, that big collective group of humans I study, I love other parts us and as a result, I refuse to re-write us or accept that notion. I want every story, every mistake, every heartbreak, every miracle. I want every horror, every defeat, every victory, and every act of compassion to be known. I want them all. I want them so we can learn from them. I never want to forget our best. I never want to forget our worst. The only way we can truly live is to know and not be afraid of what the knowledge brings. Everyone has a little hero in them so trust me, you can handle the truth. If you can't, don't worry. I'll walk through whatever it is right alongside you. And then you can use that little bit of hero to learn and do better. #NeverReWrite #NeverForget

Just Like That...

And just like that it’s done.The kiddo is in his new house, his home away from home that will serve him well for the next three years, and I’m almost home, if you consider 268 miles almost. I’ve logged over 2000 miles in the driver’s seat this trip, spending precious little time with friends and family but a lot of time with my amazing kiddo, making memories at the speed of light. Memories I’ll look back on over the coming months, as I’m missing him ferociously, and smile.

When the kiddo was little I always used to worry that I’d have to push him out there to take advantage of opportunities, meet friends, and find his tribe, but nothing could be farther from the truth. As I drive away from him my heart is full knowing if anything, I want to pull him back!

This Mom gig is the hardest job I’ve ever had. It comes with the worst hours, wagons full of guilt, a fair amount of self-doubt, sleepless nights, a lot of what-if’s, more worry than I everknew I was capable of, and a healthy dose of anxiety. Seriously, if the writers put the truth in theWhat to Expect books, humanity would be in trouble! But this gig is the best job I’ve ever had, too, because seeing your child settled and satisfied, engaged and learning new things, owning their space, and succeeding outweighs the tough things by such a large margin that I don’t even know how to do the math on that type of problem. 

If you’re the mom of a little, soak it up and don’t wish it away, even when you’re knee-deep in sleepless nights and living rooms that make you look like Lego farmers. I know you think so but I promise you aren’t losing yourself. You’re taking one on the chin (and maybe the waistline!) and paying it forward but you can’t see that now so I need you to trust me on this. If you’re a middle mom, keep driving carpool (and the other 900 activities you manage on a weekly basis), stay on your kids about their homework, help them find good friends, and hug them longer than you should every time they’ll let you. I know you’re tired and you’re juggling A LOT of plates, but I also hope you know how much they need you, even though they’re growling and snarling more than an angry Rottweiler these days. Keep taking one for the team because it’s going to pay off. 

And college moms, go snag a cup of coffee and listen up. We’ve got this. Even when we find ourselves knee-deep in the worry. Even when we can’t jump in thecar (because they’re too far away!) and take them to lunch so we can just listen because we know what they really need is a strong shoulder and a hug. We can be exactly what our kids need in this season and find ourselves again, too. We can live our best lives while helping them find theirs. I get that these days are hard but these days can still be great. I know this firsthand because I'm living proof. If you ever want talk 

Where is the coffee?

It dawns on me that there are things that happen when you’re working the college mom gig that don’t happen in the empty nest. Like when you have to order coffee at a restaurant for breakfast. Why? Because college kids living on Starbucks don’t typically have coffee pots so you don’t get to enjoy that first cup while you’re getting ready for the day. Gasoline? I can’t tell you the last time I got down to one bar because in my empty nest Atlanta existence, I never let it get one bar low, let alone end up with just one bar to go. A dirty car? In the empty nest my car is washed every week. At present, my ride is so filthy from driving 10+ hours to get to my child, and 10+ hours more running all over town trying to find what he needs for this move, that I’m naming the bugs on the windshield and I’m about to write “Joy” in the dust on the dash and call it progress. Matching bedding? Ha! Last night I slept on the kiddo’s couch with a duvet serving as both a bottom sheet and a blanket. To top it off, I pulled one of his clean T-shirts over a couch pillow and called it even. When the kiddo asked what I was doing, I just laughed because honestly, I was too tired to explain. Lists? I have at least five open on my phone at present instead of the nicely manicured master one I keep in the empty nest. And schedules? Right! We’re eating lunch most days at two and we GrubHubbed Taco Bell last night at eleven. Time management is a myth at this point. So yeah, the college mom gig is crazy but I can’t lie - I love it! That said, I do wish I would’ve brought my own pillow because I’m not 100% certain where this one’s been. #BuehlerLife

Warning Lights...

This weekend I’m embarking on a journey to move our kiddo from his summer place into his house in Bloomington, the place we hope he gets to reside for the rest of his college career. This is our 14th move in less than a year and to say we’re weary of boxes, and packing tape, and storage keys, would be an understatement. But funnier on this journey is the story of car tires. The story of how every time we have a vehicle fully loaded and we’re ready to make a ten plus hour drive, a warning light comes on. If this has ever happened to you, you know it’s not a good feeling when things start flashing while you’re running down the road at seventy miles per hour. 

No one wants to drive across town with a warning light on, let alone watch it flash for 600 miles. So here I am in the backseat of a dealer shuttle, making my way to pick up my car just in time to reload and get on the road, setting off to help my birdy fly the nest when all I really want to do is keep him tucked safely in his childhood bed. 

Last night I was inconsolable, spouting off phrases like “I don’t have time for this. I have a schedule to keep.” And my classic, “People are depending on me!” To anyone on the outside looking in, I’m sure it seemed simple enough, I was upset about the inconvenience of a car repair before a trip. But the truth is I’m upset about the stress of another move, about life at college in the time of Covid, about a new housing situation, about saying goodbye yet again. I’m so very sick of saying goodbye. So while my vehicle was warning me about tires yesterday, my heart took me other places. Warning! This is going to be hard. Warning! This is going to hurt. Warning! He’ll want you to leave long before you’re ready to say ‘see you in October. Warning! This may never get easier. 

In the light of day my perspective has shifted and I’m grateful that I wasn’t somewhere in the middle of nowhere halfway to Indiana when that warning light came on. Grateful that my husband was able to leave work and help me, both with the car and with my heart. That the service manager at the dealership understands this harried mom just doesn’t want to let her kid down. 

God shows up and uses interesting things these days to slow me down and get my attention. He always meets me right in the middle of my mayhem. Yesterday it was car tires and warning lights and I’m beyond grateful for the reminder that he’s given me just enough sense to see the blessings above the obstacles. #BuehlerLife

Me today...

I knew the empty nest would be partly about finding new challenges and I had some big plans in the works when life threw me a curveball last summer. It was easy to put things on hold but you know what? I still have those plans! 

God has blessed me with several amazing opportunities here in my new hometown and I’m so grateful to have them. He’s also whispered in my ear that I need to pull out that list of plans and get busy growing where I’m planted. So this is me today, repainting a little corner booth in an antique shop near my house where I’ll hang my shingle next week. 

I’ve ALWAYS wanted to do this so here I stand on the edge of a new adventure. It’s a little bit scary, a bunch of hard work, and a whole lot of fun. Good thing I’m ready.  #BabsPlace