I Learned My Lesson Well

 What a Mother's Day 2025 we had. We laughed, we cried, we ate, we drank. It was a TWO order meal in day -- Pura Vida for lunch, and Mister01 Pizza for dinner. As D1 said in her thank you text: thanks for the unconditional love for our family and the carbs...

We got to talk -- a lot -- and much of it was about my nagging problem in life: I feel I need to fix everyone and everything I truly care about. The good news is that as I age, those lists have gotten far shorter -- for most -- I just cheerlead and well wish -- but for my true inner circle I think I have the power to repair.

And I know I don't. For example, Wifey has made clear she wants to live closer to the Ds -- not to necessarily babysit more, but to avoid the drive that used to be typically 35 minutes and now is over an hour. I thought, fine -- I can fix this, even though I have truly zero desire to move from this paradisical property we bought in late 2000. I kept trying to talk myself into a move -- Miami Shores has a beautiful Bayfront area where I can walk -- cool new restaurants -- closer to most everything than Pinecrest is -- a/k/a casa carajo. But when I saw that a downsized house will still cost over $2M -- the proverbial hairs on the back of my neck stood up.

Ok -- maybe a workaround -- we lease a 2 BR condo at Quayside -- we keep stuff there -- and keep Wifey happy. But after our family discussion Sunday, I realized something: there I went again -- trying to fix OTHER family members' problems. And so I made another proclamation: no moving, no rental condos, no downsized houses.

Of course, this proclamation is subject to change. I like to joke that many of my life's proclamations aren't worth the paper they're not written on. After our Hurricane Years -- 1992-1994 -- where we moved, with 2 small kids, one small dog and one jumbo dog -- 4 times -- I made a proclamation. When the contractor came by for the final payment,  I told him he had one more task: dig a hole in the backyard for my burial, since I was NEVER going to move again. Well, 7 years later, we did indeed move, to Villa Wifey, where we've been ever since.

So I guess we'll see. But I DO have a thick skin and think I can take advice, and when my family tells me to change something, I usually listen. And if they don't want my fixing, just my love and support -- well, I can work on that.

Meanwhile, Europe draws closer. I can tell Eric is getting excited -- he called me at 730 this am to discuss a few details. He actually woke me -- he knows I'm an early riser, but this am my 2 part sleep was 10-4, and then 5 until, well, 730.

I pulled 2 suitcases off the garage shelf -- this weekend Wifey and I will see if we can share one big one and make due with 2 carry ons. If not -- 2 big ones. Supposably (using the Miami spelling), Tauk is famous for handling EVERYTHING, and so from the time we check the bags at AA, Tauk does all the schlepping. We'll figure it out this weekend, but Wifey has a deep fear of being cold, and though Central Europe temps in late May to early June don't seem frigid, she tells me "50 degrees IS cold!"

Earlier I drafted and sent the "Bad News/Good News" email to the Ds I always send before we go on an overseas vacation. The bad news would be if something untoward were to befall Wifey and me. The good news is the money they'd inherit. I fully realize our chances of dying in the Uber on the way to MIA far outweigh the chances of dying due to AA or BA or Danube-related disasters, but my strange brain works in strange ways -- I'd have comfort in a 777 hurtling towards the Atlantic if I knew the Ds knew what's what with all our earthly details.

Yeah -- I DO probably need some more professional help.

In the mean time, we're off to see the Ds and their men as soon as Wifey returns from her PT. We'll fetch Little Man from his Lego camp at the Rec Center. Poor kid is one of us. Wifey asked him Sunday if he worries about anything, and he said "Ippi -- I worry about everything." He's 5.5.

So there'll be love, and support, and enough trying to fix anyone other than myself. I ought to have listened to the Ricky Nelson song and taken heed long ago. I guess it's never too late.