While many of my friends still pine away for the “glory days” of high school parties, college life freedom, or even last year, our past is usually conveniently airbrushed in our memories, which isn’t such a bad thing. But I’ve always said, look ahead my friend, look ahead.
I don’t mean we shouldn’t sink into our good thoughts; we can get very cozy and happy appreciating and re-living great times but crooning, even lamenting over days gone by seems sort of depressing to me.
Inevitably after talking up a parenting moment with friends, telling them that despite this issue or that with my tween, she and I are doing fine, a mom has to pop my optimism, “Oh just you wait, it only gets worse. Nine was good, but better than 10, 12 was so-so, but 13 bites.” To which I answer, “If it only gets worse, what’s the point of parenting?”
That shuts them up because I sound all existentalist. Read more