Eighteen Years Ago

On September 14, 1997, I went to bed a little earlier than usual. After an amazing all-you-can-eat brunch at our yacht club, I was feeling stuffed, a little bloaty, kind of crampy. At just about midnight, I went to the bathroom, then returned to wake my husband.

"Um, I think my water just broke."

We called the obstetrician's office; the doctor on duty was in delivery, but would call us back. Finally, at about 2:00 am, they told us to head to the hospital. I was checked in and examined. The nurse reassured me that nothing was going to happen for a while and suggested we get some rest. 

Riiiiight. Like that was gonna happen.

My husband, in the recliner next to my bed, drifted off almost immediately. Meanwhile, I stressed out. (Then again, why should the single most important night of our lives be different than any other night?) I stayed awake and my contractions got closer together — gradually. A little too gradually it turned out. As soon as a doctor arrived, they put me on Pitocin (invented, I am absolutely certain by the biggest woman-hating man who ever lived) so that my labor would be "more productive." Over the next several hours, we tried other things: walks along the maternity ward corridor, warm showers, the dreaded birthing ball. I watched TV for a while. On the midday news I learned that the FDA was taking one of my client's products, a weight loss drug called Fen-Phen, off the market (so much for the commercial we were about to shoot). I also watched back-to-back-to-back episodes of "Mad About You." 

Funny, I've never been able to sit through that show again.

Anyway, things finally progressed as they were supposed to; the doctor returned; I pushed and ... Voila! "You have a daughter!" It was 3:49 pm, September 15, 1997. I was a mother.

This morning, my daughter and I watched her birthday sunrise together, as we have every year since she was maybe three years old. This time, her dad joined us, along with the new puppy. There's no school today (Rosh Hashanah), so as soon as our little ritual was over, the now-legal adult went back to bed. 

I'm left here thinking about the past eighteen years. They've gone by quickly, yet we packed a lot into them. Birthday parties and vacations, homework and horse shows, lazy mornings, busy weekends. And laundry. There's been a lot of laundry.

This year, we're time-shifting the actual celebration. At 3:49 (my daughter's a stickler for detail), she'll mark the anniversary of her birth on her trusty steed. From the stable, she and her BFF are driving to Providence for a concert. By the time they return, it will be after midnight and her birthday will technically be over. I'm trying not to focus on two teens driving after hours on Route 95. Instead, I'm going to think about what a happy day she's having.

My daughter is eighteen. She can vote, she can enlist in the army, she can buy cigarettes, work full-time, live on her own. But, she's safe asleep upstairs right now. We've done a good job. We've made a good person.

I've always loved her a lot. Now, it's time to let go a little.

If you enjoyed this post, I invite you to order a copy of my book  Lovin' the Alien at www.lovinthealien.com.

Give Up The Goat

Last month, my daughter turned sixteen. (A little stunned by that one; where oh where did time go?) Our dining room mantle is still covered with cards, and one of the cutest came from my mother. It has a drawing of a horse and the message:

It's time to ask for a pony again.

The joke, of course, is that my daughter doesn't need to ask for a pony. She has one. You would think said animal would be the key to living happily ever after, right? I mean, isn't that what every girl dreams of? (Well, maybe not every girl, as this amusing ad points out.)


Now, however, she wants a goat.

Say, what?

A goat. Yes, that's right. I've finally gotten used to writing enormous checks each month to pay for the stable and hay and horse shows and vet bills and hoof trimming and trailering and tack. And now, she wants a goat.

Don't get me wrong. The goat is by no means replacing the pony. No, no, no. The goat is supposed to be a friend for it. It's called, "a companion animal." The concept, I guess, is that horses are naturally social. Having a goat (or, in some cases, a pig) in the stall with the horse is supposed to make them happier and less rambunctious. 

We happen to own a rather rambunctious equine.

The owner of the stable where we board my daughter's horse calls him, "a punk." This is said with affection but also with conviction. He's a purebred Connemara and has a lot of attitude. His very first week with us, he reached over his stall and tore the collar off of someone's coat. With his teeth. He's been known to bite my husband, my daughter and a few weeks ago ... moi. 

Have you ever had a horse hickey? Try to avoid it.

Last year, our pony broke out of his stall. (We still don't know how he did it. After that collar episode, he had a metal gate as well as the usual wooden one.) He ran amuck all night, eating any and everything in his path, and cleverly removing all the blankets from hooks in the tack room and strewing them about. Since then, he's lived in what we call "the stall of shame." A truly escape-proof jail of sorts, with stone walls and iron bars, down in the pony barn. Apparently he isn't mature enough to hang with the other grownups.

Is this really a horse who deserves a companion animal? I think not.

My daughter disagrees.

What else is new?

Here's a text conversation we had yesterday (while she was allegedly in school) ...

Her: We need a goat look at how well they get along with the horse

Me: That's not your horse

Her: But its a horse and those are goats

Me: Duh

Her: I want a goat

Me: What next? An elephant?

Her: No just a goat :) 

Me: You do the re$earch, plan how YOU pay for it and get straight A's.

Then we'll see.

Oh, and clean your room.

Ahhhh. The digital sound of silence.

If you enjoyed this post, order a copy of my new book Lovin' the Alien at www.lovinthealien.com.

Hold On To Fifteen As Long As You Can

My daughter turned fifteen on Saturday. She celebrated all weekend — cupcakes, a movie, a sleepover, out for dinner, an "Adventure Trail Ride" with her beloved horse, presents and then ... more cupcakes. 

My husband and I walked around dazed, muttering to each other and ourselves, "How can she be fifteen?" "When did that happen? " and "We are so-o-o-o old.""

This birthday, more than any other to date, feels like a major milestone. Maybe it's because she just started high school a couple of weeks ago. Or maybe it's because I remember so keenly how it felt to be fifteen. I certainly didn't think of myself as a child.

Growing up in New York City, I had far more autonomy than my daughter does. (And growing up in the 1970s, I had far far fewer electronics.) But, I still experienced a lot of the confusion and wonder and pressure and joy and sorrow that she's feeling right now.

So, for this post, I was trying to think of advice I could give her. Instead, I've turned to some other very smart women.

Happy birthday, sweetie. These are for you:


1. "Remember, no one can make you feel inferior without your consent." 

Eleanor Roosevelt 

2. "Understand that the right to choose your own path is a sacred privilege. Use it." 

Oprah Winfrey 

3. "When you do the best you can, you never know what miracle is wrought in your life or in the life of another."

Helen Keller

4. "If you can't make it better, you can laugh at it."

Erma Bombeck

5. "The most effective way to do it is to do it."

Amelia Earhart

6. "The good news is that you don't know how great you can be! How much you can love! What you can accomplish!"

Anne Frank

7. "You grow up the day you have your first real laugh at yourself."

Ethel Barrymore

8. "You can do no great things, only small things with great love."

Mother Teresa

9. "Success is getting what you want, happiness is wanting what you get."

Ingrid Bergman

10. "Nobody cares if you can't dance well. Just get up and dance. Great dancers are not great because of their technique, they are great because of their passion."

Martha Graham

11. "Always go with the choice that scares you the most, because that's the one that is going to require the most from you."

Caroline Myss

12. "When someone shows you who they are, believe them the first time."

Maya Angelou

13. "Just don't give up trying to do what you really want to do. Where there is love and inspiration, I don't think you can go wrong."

Ella Fitzgerald

14. "You may be disappointed if you fail, but you are doomed if you don't try."

Beverly Sills 

15. “About all you can do in life is be who you are.”

Rita Mae Brown