Aggie mom

 Adam and I are reading a book out loud together.  Mostly he reads.  Saturday night I was folding laundry and he was reading.  And stumbling over words.  I told him he'd never make it as an audiobook recorder (I strive to be a supportive wife) and he said, "I would be great!  Nobody wants just one version of a book."

Then I went and found some reading glasses for Adam and he did a lot better.  

We're at that stage of life.  The reading glasses stage.

Also, we are at the our kids are leaving us stage.

Later, I was lying on the couch and Adam was reading to me and I looked on the wall and saw this picture tacked up on a little board in our kitchen.  I could update those pictures but I don't have the heart.

It's from ten years ago.  If I could go back to that Thelma, I would tell her to buckle up.  The ten years have a been a wild ride.

That picture was taken after we'd spent a sunny day at Lake Sammamish with Stephanie and her kids.  The kids have pink cheeks from the sun and Mark's hair looks not quite dry because I'm sure I had to drag him out of the water at the last possible minute.  Adam picked us up after work and there we were, crowded in the green Saturn.  

A lifetime ago, but yesterday too.

Braeden and Anna have decided on UC Davis for graduate school.

Here's how Emma met that news:

She'll only ever be Emma and I'm grateful.

Mark has decided on Utah State for college.

Braeden told me I should get an Aggie Mom shirt because both schools are Aggies.

I know full well that I've been spoiled with my college kids being basically in my backyard and I'm going to have to be an actual grown up and be OK with my sons moving away.

Maybe an Aggie Mom shirt will help.

Mostly I'm trying not to think about it.

It didn't help when Mark recently went to the dentist.  I asked him how it went.  He said fine.  I asked him if he had cavities and he said no.

He said, "I will need to figure out when to have my next appointment during a school break or something."

Because in 6 months he will be gone.

It's fine.  I'll just rip my heart out and send it to Logan (see, I'm not going to be dramatic about it or anything). It's fine.  I'm fine.  Everything's fine.