The Commencement Address of Boo Boo

You hear that sound? It’s a distant ticking, like a clock in another room at 2 am, but it’s getting louder every day. It’s marking the days as I approach my 40th birthday. How did that happen? Some random thing on tv got me thinking about how old I’ll be when E graduates from high school and it’s very old. It’s distressingly old.

I have a good friend at work who has two boys one is three and the other is just over one. The difference is that he’s 11 years younger than me. Time is marked differently with little kids… you notice the passing of months much more keenly as they develop in language or physical skills. I used to look at my goals with getting this degree, changing jobs, getting another degree, getting this training and such and now I think about what school will E go to, what country will be open for adoption, what summer camps will be offered, will this job let me leave early to pick up kids.

It’s an odd feeling. I used to scan the 9:30 club, the Birchmere and other clubs looking for new artists to drag L too, now I’m ordering Sesame Street Fiesta Songs. When I caught E sucking on the drawer pulls again I found myself saying to L “I’m so tired of him putting his mouth on ….” Oh my god, I’m sick and tired of it…. I’ve become my mother. Ah well, the final stage is Acceptance. Does this velour track suit come in my size?

At least I get moments like E deciding to call us Boo Boo, running around the house saying “Hi Boo Boo.” I don’t know where it came from but it’s freakin hysterical. When I'm carrying his boxes up to his dorm room maybe I'll slip in a Boo Boo when a roommate is nearby and they'll laugh at my dark socks and shorts. It'll be fabulous.