Two O One O

Twenty ten. I have a bit of anxiety about this year already because it has a one in it. One of my daughters (ahem) spilled a glass of wine on my laptop keyboard and killed the one. The one shares a key with the exclamation point which is why you will never see one in my writing. I might have the impulse, but I just can’t put a point on my exclamation. It’s not possible. Living without a one wasn’t as bad in 2009. I didn’t need a one for the date. I only needed a one to charge anything by credit card, to access the multiple listing service and for each of my four thousand passwords. In certain situations I can get by using a lower case “l” even though it doesn’t look quite right, but when I need to enter my zip code on an order form it wants a real one. I have gotten quite good at finding ones and highlighting and pasting. I did lots of online shopping by sending emails to myself from my blackberry, copying and pasting. It might have been quicker to go to the shopping center and buy things.

The New Year got me to thinking about the Old Year and that brought to mind the Other Old Years. I started doing a little inventory of the past five years. Instead of counting sheep, I’ve been counting life changes and dramatic events. In the past five years my father died and my mother had a stroke and four surgeries. I split up for the second time with my ex-husband and got married again. Eric had his motorcycle accident which took three surgeries and two years for a full recovery. One daughter was rear ended and hurt her back but she was basically ok. One daughter was in a car at dusk on a winding mountain road when they were hit head on by a drunk driver. A drunk driver who had gone to the same elementary school and left the scene of the accident. They were all fine and oh so very lucky. One of the girls was diagnosed with a bleeding disorder which was extremely scary at first but, fortunately, has not been much of a problem.

More sheep in my head. Two of our children decided that they needed to be tattooed, resulting in a total of four tattoos. Three high school graduations. One college graduation with distinction. One successful training as an aesthetician. One daughter left for school in Scotland, one to the east coast. Trips to Europe (not including going to college) for the various children: five. Trips to Europe for Eric and me: none so far. Brutal breakups with boyfriends: two. Not so brutal breakups with boyfriends: quite a few. Calls from the police regarding underage drinking: three. Vacations in Belize staring down the eye of a hurricane: one. Number of times our street flooded: once. Number of new laptops for the offspring: three. New laptops for the parents: none.

Obviously I don’t need just a new year. I need a new five years. I need to start fresh with a trip to Europe AND a new laptop. I think I'll skip the tatoo.It’s so hard to look at your life and decide whether you’re unlucky or REALLY lucky. So many bad events could have not happened and that would have been most welcome. But so many events could also have turned out just a hair another way and been unspeakably tragic. I’ll take what I have gotten - as if there is any choice. I’ll take it with the profound gratitude it deserves, but maybe the next five could be just a little less exciting?

In one month the teenage years, all cumulative 28 years of them, will be finished. We will have four twenty-somethings. Fifteen straight years of sullen, snarky and self-absorbed. A decade and a half of living with hormone poisoned creatures with partially developed brains who keep vampire hours and do not grasp the meaning of no. I’m really kind of sick of having teenagers and I look forward to this new phase. I admire these new young women. In all their glory - bravely, gamely they are finding their way in this world. It’s their five years to blossom and grow into themselves. Me, I’d just like a little rest.