Do the Time Warp yeah

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This weekend I sold the toddler toys. My favorites dated back to my son Alex’s childhood; I could still envision him standing at the tiny stove, busily cooking. Wasn’t that just a year or so ago that he liked making pretend mashed potatoes?

   

But it couldn’t have been, because this weekend I also helped Alex buy a corsage for a girl he was escorting to a school dance; a first date for him, another leap into the parenting unknown for me. I knew nothing about corsages and boutonnieres, and got a quick education from the florist. She reminded me of those reassuring women in the baby store who explained just what I would need for my new baby—and what I could live without—back when I didn’t have a clue.

    Today the painters arrived to start prepping the house. I think I found the same color blue we put on our San Francisco house some 15 years ago. The morning glories I planted in front of it were thriving last time I drove by. It seems like only a year or so ago that I planted them. I wonder if I should plant morning glories here in Palo Alto.

    On Saturday Alex takes the PSAT, and the crescendo to college begins. A few weeks ago I got a note from a college classmate, asking me if I remembered the time we got lost on a road trip because were thought we were supposed to turn at the “white pyramid”. (Turns out we misinterpreted the Southern accent and we were supposed to turn “right up here a bit.”) She dropped her child off at college; guess it got her thinking about road trips. Wasn’t it just a year or so ago that I was still in college?

    We replaced our refrigerator last month; frozen way in the back was one stray bag of breast milk; dated eight years ago. Can I really just throw it away? Shouldn’t I have some kind of ceremony? But wasn’t it just a year or so ago that I was still breastfeeding.

    And I wonder if why I’m always feeling so tired is that I’m jet lagged from all this time travel.

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