My Peeps

Look! Laura's sitting up. She's six months old today. And it wasn't her best hair day, but we'll try not to mention that. I was a little frazzled myself and couldn't be bothered to find a hair bow for her, because...

Today was also the dolphin fiesta. Fourteen children plus a little ice cream cake plus a little swimming plus a lot of face paint equals a little wine for mommy after everyone under 10 years old is crashed in the den watching a movie and denying exhaustion.

There's the birthday girl a little overwhelmed by her friends' expression of joy through song.

Okay, and she is so my daughter because she appreciates the cards as much as the gifts, and the handmade rhyming poem cards the most.

Sarah has a little quilt-covered storage ottoman where she keeps the photos she pilfers from my albums and every note she's ever received from friends and family. She also keeps her journal in there. Don't ask how I know.

Today, during the party, Sarah was busy scowling at my camera while she and some of the girls built sand castles in our little sand box. I asked (or begged, really, if you want to know the truth) why she couldn't just let me take some nice candid shots. Please? And then it wasn't Sarah at all who answered, but her friend Kylie, who said to the group in general, "Sarah doesn't like pictures because her mom will just blog it all."

?

I have only been blogging regularly for a few months, and already my children's friends are aware?

So this got me thinking on the subject of my kids' inner lives. It's already painfully clear that no matter how much journal snooping I might find appropriate and acceptable, I am slowly and surely moving out of the center of their worlds.

Today, Laura can sit up. And this means that tomorrow she'll be off to college. Today, Sarah celebrated her eighth birthday with a rowdy bunch of boys and girls with whom she shares how she feels about my blog. And this means that tomorrow, I can expect a boy on a motorcycle to ask her out and myself to have absolutely no authority to say no. (Because she'll be 30 before she can date.)

There are friends, and then there are your people. Maybe it's just your person. But even then, even if it's just one, your person is the world of difference between alone and lonely.

I have people. People who will pick up the phone for me even when they're in the middle of a meeting. People I trust to pick up my children when I can't get out of a meeting. People with whom I have history, who saw me through messy college roommate days and who saw my children born (Not the moment of. I'm not that close to my people.)

Do you have people?

There's a credit card commercial running now that features Ellen Degeneres and a pop star whose respective people are supposed to connect to get Ellen a concert ticket. Ellen, very funnily, relies on American Express to be her people. My people have nothing to do with credit cards. The only thing my credit card people can do for me is lower my interest rate. Hello?

I want my kids to have their people. I just really want to be one of them.