Category / emotional

by Kelly Mattei

I Love You

I love you.

I just saw a video on social media about a new trend. Apparently, teenagers are calling their friends at night and saying something along the lines of, “I just wanted to call you and say good night and I love you.” It’s funny to see what the various reactions are.

I don’t call my friends at night and say, “Good night and I love you,” but I do tell my friends I love them at the end of a phone conversation…or even at the end of a get-together. It’s something my family did, and it’s something I have carried over into my friendships. My friend, Wendy, who passed away seven years ago (June 4 is the seventh anniversary of her passing), thought it was weird at first. When we would be hanging up the phone or leaving a gathering, I would say, “Love you!” She would laugh. She wasn’t one who was demonstrative in that way. I would say, “It’s OK. You don’t have to say it back. I know you love me.” But I changed her over the years. I wore her down. Eventually, after several years of friendship, she starting saying, “I love you too, sista.” I’m so happy I wore her down with that. She passed away when she was 46 after a 30 year battle with various cancers. God bless her. She was a fighter. I find peace in knowing she KNEW I loved her, and I knew she loved me. Now that I think about it, maybe I didn’t wear her down. Maybe her constant battles with cancer made her start saying it. Maybe she knew I needed to hear it. The “why” doesn’t really matter, though. She said it.

My parents heard me tell them I loved them almost every single day of my life, and I heard it too. By the time they passed away, they had likely heard it thousands of times. Does that give me some peace? Of course it does. I hope it gave them peace as they were dying. I hope they knew they were loved and that their memories would live on through me and my brother. I hope they knew we loved them and would tell stories about them for the rest of our lives…daily.

Recently, as I was hanging up the phone with a friend…a guy I have known for years who is a close family friend…I said, “Ok, love you, honey!” I said it without realizing it, and I heard the hesitation. I don’t even remember how he responded…some sort of mumbled something. I texted him afterward, “Did my ‘love ya honey’ freak you out? I do tell everyone that, so it’s OK to say it to you.” He responded, “Wasn’t quite sure what you said.” I said, “I said it out of habit. It’s just what I do. Lol.” And that’s the truth. I tell my daughter, my husband, my brother, my aunt, my cousins, my friends, my daughter’s friends…lots of people are on my “love ya honey” list. Do I mean it? You bet I do!

I’m turning 58 tomorrow, and the older I get, the more I realize how important it is to let people know we love them and appreciate them. I love getting older, and I love the “wisdom” that comes with it. I define wisdom as “knowing you only know a little bit about all there is to know in the world, and knowing you can always learn a lot more.” Part of my “wisdom” is knowing I need people to know they are loved.

I think it’s a good “habit.” I always want my friends and family to know the last thing I said to them is “I love you.” So if we talk on the phone or have lunch any time soon, don’t be surprised if I say “love you” before we hang up or before we part ways. It’s OK if you don’t say it back. I won’t take it personally, but I won’t stop saying it.

Love you, honey!

by Kelly Mattei

Halfway Through Sophomore Year

Halfway through sophomore year…

Our daughter just returned to college after being home for a few weeks for the holiday break. We loved having her, and I think she enjoyed being here, for the most part, but she was more than ready to get back to school. I could tell she was getting fidgety about being here too long.

And you know what? As much as I miss her, I am thrilled she wanted to get back to school.

We were fortunate to have a fun night last night. Somehow, the three of us ending up sitting in the keeping room off the kitchen with all three of our dogs, laughing and talking about anything that came to mind. I don’t know how long we laughed and talked, but it was a great way to end the break…on a very positive note. That’s not to say we didn’t get on each other’s nerves here and there while she was home. Of course, we got on each other’s nerves a few times. My mother used to say, “No house is big enough for two women.” My mother was a wise woman, but since our daughter is still our baby, our house is still big enough for all of us. While we annoyed each other a few times, the holiday break was full of positives for our little family. Ending it with an impromptu family. night was perfect.

Today, she drove the 450 miles back to school, and a friend rode with her. I will admit that I checked on them several times, and they even called me to ask some questions about the route. Each time my phone rang, I answered with, “Is everything OK?!?” I got questions like, “What’s a safe place to stop for a bathroom break?” I told them to pay attention to the signs and don’t take the exit if the signage isn’t good. Some generally safe places to stop are Chick-fil-a and even Starbucks, but if they don’t feel safe, don’t stop. Another question? “Should I go straight through Atlanta or get on the bypass?” I told her to just go straight through, and it worked out perfectly. She was on the other side of town in no time. Fortunately, her car gets pretty good gas mileage, so they were able to drive the whole 450 miles without filling up. That’s a big relief, because I don’t need to worry about her standing outside the car, filling it up with gas…and being a sitting duck.

We probably won’t see her for about two months, when we visit for Parents’ Weekend, and that’s OK. If she needs us, we can get there pretty quickly, but we just want her to be happy. She is already making plans to attend some basketball games and gymnastics meets this week, so good times are ahead for her! They’re ahead for me too, as I have a trip with a friend coming up this weekend!

If you have a freshman who is returning to college right now, one thing I can tell you is that, for me, it did get easier to send her back this year. She is established at her school and has friends. She is happy with her living arrangement. She is doing well in school, and she is making lots of fun plans. Did I get a little emotional yesterday? Yes. I was in a mood, but then I realized I was simply dreading her departure, and once I gave into it, I felt better. A few tears later, I felt better.

Before I know it, her sophomore year will be over, and she will be halfway through her bachelor’s degree requirements! Time flies, and I’m just happy she’s having fun!

by Kelly Mattei

Mommy, Mom, Mama, Mother…

Mommy, Mom, Mama, Mother…

All of my adult life, I called my mother “Mother,” except when I was upset. As a little girl, I called her “Mama,” but if I called her that as an adult, it had special meaning. If I called her and started the conversation with “Mama,” I’m sure she knew there was some emotion attached to it. Calling her “Mama” meant lots of different things. It might have meant my daughter wasn’t feeling well. It could mean I was sick, or my husband was sick. It could mean I was upset about something or worried about something. But it could also mean I was excited about something…as in, “Mama, you’re not going to believe this!”

Yesterday was the sixth anniversary of my mother’s passing. Six years without my Mama. I miss her every day, but I especially miss her when emotions run high. Often, I wish I could call her so she could be excited with me, help me with something, or calm me down in a volatile situation. I wish I could ask her for advice when I need it. She was a natural nurturer. She gave good advice, but most of the time, she got me to use my own judgment by nudging me in the right direction. She was a firm believer that it was always a good idea to do the right thing. She also believed we needed to do what was right for ourselves. Many times, when I was younger, she would ask, “Are you doing that because it’s the right thing for you, or because you’re being pressured into it?” She was the voice of reason.

While she has been gone for six years, I still hear her voice in my head on a regular basis. She is still with me. Could I still use her here to talk me down when I’m upset? Yes, definitely. But how many times do I say to friends and family, “Mother would have loved this.” Or maybe, “My mother would have said….” She is still with me, without a doubt. I miss so much about her. I miss the way she listened to me and everyone else she knew. I miss her sense of humor…and it was really good. I miss her strength…her calm. I miss her perspective…how she knew most things we worry about don’t really matter…life, faith, health, death…those were the things that mattered. A bad grade on a test in college? She didn’t care…learn from the experience. She believed life was one big series of lessons, and she was correct.

Last night, I had a social event to attend. Mother would have loved it…a fun party. She loved spending time with young people and she especially loved seeing young people having fun. She loved having energy around her. There were lots of young people having a lot of fun at this particular event. I got home late, and my husband and I did the “post game wrap up” of the event while I enjoyed Bailey’s on the rocks in honor of Mother. That woman loved coffee her whole adult life, and she especially loved Bailey’s in her coffee. While it was too late for me to have Bailey’s and coffee, it wasn’t too late for a little Bailey’s on the rocks. In fact, I was a little hoarse from talking so much at the party, but the Bailey’s was soothing…a good way to wind down before bed…just like talking to Mother used to be.

In a couple of weeks, I’m traveling to Mexico City with a friend for a few days. It was one of Mother’s favorite places. She traveled there with me right before I got married. I had been a couple of times before, and I could hardly wait to share it with her. She loved everything about it…the food, the people, the culture, the architecture, the cathedral at the Zocalo…but afterward, she especially loved the memories we had made. We laughed and laughed, after the fact, about my forcing her to walk up the hill to Chapultepec Castle in the first few hours we were there. The elevation is real. Mexico City is about 7,400 feet above sea level, but I didn’t think about that when I said, “Let’s walk up the hill!” After walking uphill for a while, she told me I was crazy and hopped on the tram. We laughed and laughed. I can hardly wait to share the city with my friend, and while we are there, I will remember my mother too. I’m sure I will share stories about Mother with my friend.

Six years have passed in the blink of an eye. She didn’t see my nephew graduate from college and start his path as an adult, using his artistic talents as a tattoo artist…exactly what he wants to do. She didn’t know his twin brother works for the city and still does the announcing at sporting events…exactly what he wants to do. She didn’t see our daughter graduate from high school, and didn’t get to see her as a college student. Sometimes, it seems like forever since I have seen her, and sometimes, it seems like yesterday. Life is funny that way.

I miss you, Mama.

by Kelly Mattei

When Sorority Rush is Over

When Sorority Rush is over.

When sorority rush starts, for the potential new members, it seems as though the week will never end. It’s a week of great fun for some and a week of misery for others…and some fall in between. If your daughter is participating in recruitment, here is something you should know: it will end, and it will be emotional.

No matter how it ends, it’s an emotional time…an emotional rollercoaster. They might be overjoyed. The excitement might be overwhelming! They might be sad. They might even be angry or embarrassed. But emotions definitely run high. Here’s something no one warned me about:

A couple of days after rush is over, almost everyone falls flat.

Last year, my daughter completed recruitment and pledged her favorite house as a freshman. She was thrilled. She was excited. For about two days, it was all she could talk about. And then, about 48 hours after pledging, she called me crying. No, she wasn’t disappointed with her choice. She was thrilled. She was simply feeling down in the dumps. At first, I wondered if it was homesickness, but then I realized it wasn’t that at all…she was simply having a “post-rush letdown.” That’s what I call it anyway. After being “courted” by sorority members during the recruitment process and all the excitement of Bid Day, everything else seems flat. If you’re mentally prepared for it, you know what it is, and you know what to do to fight the “blues.”

I wasn’t prepared for it last year. I’m normally really good about remembering my youth, but I had forgotten about the post-rush letdown, so when my daughter called, I was surprised for a minute…until I remembered. I listened to her tearfully tell me she was sad but didn’t know why. Then, I explained to her what was happening. I told her that what she was feeling was normal, because it is. That level of excitement and happiness she had during rush and on Bid Day simply can’t be sustained. She was bound to crash at some point. I told her to go for a walk in the sunshine. Sunshine helps. I also told her to find one of her new friends and invite her to go with her. Then, I suggested she go to her new sorority house and try to meet new friends. Maybe get some exercise with some of those new friends?

A couple of hours later, she called me sounding like her old self. In fact, she went so far as to cheerfully say, “I love it here!” I knew she had turned the corner, and it was a good thing, because I was on vacation in the Bahamas having a great time!

This year, she participated in rush as a member of a sorority. She was rushing new members all week. She was feeling the excitement again! And on Bid Day, she welcomed the girls she had worked so hard to recruit. She was absolutely thrilled! Fast forward 48 hours, and I received a call. “Mom, I don’t know why, but I’m feeling sad.” This time I knew the answer, “Oh, honey, you’re having post-rush letdown! Remember last year? Remember how 48 hours after it was over you had a little bout of sadness? It’s the same thing! The excitement is over and reality is setting in.” I suggested she get some exercise. Two hours later, she called me laughing and telling me a funny story about something that had happened. She had made it through the post-rush letdown again. I just hadn’t expected her to have the same feeling as a member, but she did, and next year, I will be ready to remind her that it’s going to happen.

Why am I telling you this? Moms, I want y’all to be prepared. And I want you to know that the post-rush letdown is a totally normal thing. That sad feeling will likely pass quickly if your daughter will get some exercise and make an effort to make some more new friends. It’s a bit of an emotional rollercoaster, but just know the sadness will go away with some good coaching from Mom! Stay positive, Mom!

You got this!

by Kelly Mattei

OK, Moms, It’s Sorority Rush Time

OK, moms, it’s sorority rush time!

Sorority rush (also known as recruitment) is getting underway at big schools all over the south. A couple of places have already finished, but lots are just getting started. I remember it well from last year, when our daughter participated in recruitment. Is it fun for the girls? For the most part, yes. Is it stressful for the girls? Sometimes, yes. But I discovered last year that it might be more stressful for the moms. It’s true.

First, let me say that most big, southern schools employ a method that ensures the greatest number of matches. Therefore, at most big schools in the south, the attrition rate during recruitment is relatively low, and girls dropping out on their own account for a large percentage of the attrition. For example, at one large southern school I’m familiar with, about 92% of the girls finish the process with a bid(invitation to join) from a sorority. Of the other 8%, most are people who dropped out on their own. Some had GPAs that didn’t meet the chapters’ requirements. It’s not like it was back in the 80s or even the 90s…girls aren’t just getting dropped left and right, all willy nilly, and at this particular school, no one gets dropped after Preference round, which is the last night of recruitment. If you make it to Preference, you are guaranteed a bid somewhere.

With that out of the way, let’s talk about how Mom feels during the process. Mom, you might feel stressed. You might feel numb. You might feel out-of-the-loop. You might feel helpless. And all of that is OK. You feel what you feel. It’s hard to be away from your daughter when she is going through something stressful. I was talking with a friend earlier, and we discussed what we would put in a Mom’s rush bag, if there were such a thing. Maybe you’ll want to create one from this list? You can keep it next to your favorite chair:

  • Aromatherapy Shower Steamers. Make your shower/bathroom feel like a spa with scents like lavender, rose, mint, and more! It’s relaxing. See them here.
  • Olly Sleep. If you’re having trouble sleeping, maybe some melatonin will help. I love Olly Sleep gummies. Check with your doctor before taking supplements. Purchase here.
  • Bath Pillow. A hot bath can be very relaxing, but only if you’re comfortable in your tub. A bath pillow can make a big difference. Get it from Amazon here.
  • Easy read. Throw yourself into a good book. If you want to read an easy-to-read novel about rush, there’s Rush by Lisa Patton at Amazon here.
  • Relaxing Face Mask. Forcing yourself to relax with a face mask is a great thing. I prefer ones containing lavender, but you might like others. Choose one here.
  • Favorite healthy snacks. I think every mom needs to have some healthy snacks handy, but especially when times are stressful. Drop some of your faves in your “mom rush bag.”

Last year, I had several friends whose daughters were participating in recruitment at the same time mine was. We would talk, and often, we had different stories to share. We didn’t tell each other which houses/chapters our daughters were visiting, but we did share anecdotes…like when one of our daughters almost walked out of her dorm and to a sorority houses wearing two different shoes. Another girl sat in gum between parties. We all shared some laughs, but if one mom cried, we all cried. If one mom was being particularly funny, we all laughed. Thank God we had each other to lean on.

The recruitment process is not easy. There’s so much anxiety…daily anxiety. Add in the pure exhaustion that comes from walking from house to house in summer heat. Add in the emotional exhaustion. It’s a lot. Plus, many of the girls are away from home for the first time.

But here’s one thing to remember when talking to your daughter:

Never let her see you sweat.

If your daughter calls you crying, resist the urge to jump into the pool of tears with her. It’s easy to dive right in there, but your daughter needs you to be strong for her. She needs you to be the voice of reason. Personally, at our house, if I can hold myself together, everyone else does too. So remember that if your daughter calls you crying one morning after receiving her invitations for a round, saying she got dropped by her very favorite house. Let her cry for a minute, but remind her that she needs to dry up those tears and put on a happy face for the next house. She needs to be reminded that the chapters that kept her really want her…they kept her for a reason. She needs to keep moving forward, and you might have to encourage her to do it. Tell her to take a deep breath and “pivot.” She’s going to be OK. (And you are too, Mom.) It might seem like her world is collapsing right now, but it’s not. This is just a blip on the radar. Remind her there are great girls in every chapter; it’s true.

There will be some girls who simply decide sorority life is not for them. Or maybe they just hate the process. Or maybe they have had enough. Whatever the reason, it’s OK to drop out of recruitment, but only after giving it a real effort. Don’t drop out on a whim. And if your daughter simply needs to drop out, you need to assure her that she has to make the best decision for herself.

As for maintaining your own sanity, a glass of wine could be your friend! Or some exercise. Or some sunshine. You got this, Mom.


by Kelly Mattei

Moms and Sorority Rush

Moms and sorority rush.

*The photo above is a file photo from Wikimedia Commons in 2008. It should not be used as an example of “what to wear” during recruitment 2023.*

Yes, it’s a thing. Moms get involved in sorority rush at big southern schools. Does that mean they’re actively going from house to house with their daughters? No. Oh Lord, I hope not…for their own sake but especially for their daughters’ sakes. But yes, Moms help their daughters prepare for rush. They worry about them. They get nervous. They feel all pain and all excitement. Some of them might have been in sororities themselves, and they want their daughters to pledge their chapter. Perhaps a mom has expectations about some chapters offering her daughter a bid. Maybe another mom thinks her daughter couldn’t possibly be dropped by a house. Maybe another one is worried hers will be dropped by every house.

The truth of the matter is that every mom is different, and every girl’s rush experience is different, so different moms and daughters will have different approaches. However, there are some things that are pretty universal…or should be:

  • Help prepare. For information on recruitment preparation, click here. Mom should be calling all her friends asking if any of them are sorority members, and if so, would they write a recommendation for her daughter? She should help her daughter shop for dresses and for the all-important “rush bag.” (See info about the Rush Bag here.) Most moms I know also proofread/edit their daughters’ resumes…or ask someone else to do it. And she should remind her daughter that it is important to keep an open mind about the chapters while she participates in recruitment.
  • Be supportive and positive. This is a stressful time for the girls, so they need the support from Mom. They need reassurance. They need you to be their cheerleaders this week. They need their moms to tell them how much they believe in them.
  • Be realistic. You have likely seen a list of the sorority chapters’ required or recommended GPAs for potential new members. Take those seriously. Those recommendations are there for a reason. No chapter wants to take a grade risk, because the “grade risk” is more likely not to stay in school, based on her academic history. Sororities like to maintain their membership, so if someone fails out of school, it hurts the chapter.
  • Be sympathetic. If/when daughter calls Mom and says, “My favorite house dropped me,” Mom needs to be sympathetic but not enabling. Do not enable your daughter to drop out of the process. If she will stick it out, chances are she will end up where she belongs. Encourage her to continue with the process! If she still has houses inviting her back, then she can still land somewhere she will be happy.
  • Be smart. Remember, some of recruitment is a numbers game. There are different reasons people get dropped, and it’s not always personal. It might be that a chapter is focusing on a different geographic area. It might be that a chapter has a lot of in-house sisters. It might be a GPA issue. Or maybe they are simply looking for something else. Mom, as difficult as it is, remind your daughter not to take it personally.

What are the no-nos for Mom? Well, different people have different thoughts, but I think it’s important for Mom to let her daughter fly. Don’t hover. Get her moved into the dorm, and then, let her start rush without Mom looking over her shoulder. If Mom doesn’t hover, the daughter can make new friends more quickly. And mom shouldn’t put undue pressure on her daughter to pledge where she wants her to pledge.

Mom, you’re likely to feel like you’re going through recruitment with your daughter, and in some ways, you are, but when it comes right down to it…it’s your daughter’s experience. Let her make it her own.

by Kelly Mattei

Finishing Freshman Year of College

Finishing freshman year of college.

My daughter attended an independent school in Charlotte from Transitional Kindergarten through 12th grade, and the former head of the school often had wise words to share. One of his favorite phrases? “Finish well.” As the end of each school year approached, I would remind our daughter, “Finish well!” Did she always hear me? She always finished pretty well, so maybe.

Now, the end of her freshman year of college is rapidly approaching. Like a train out of control, freshman year is moving forward at lightning speed. She will be home in less than a week. Less than a week! I find myself saying, “Finish well!”

We moved her into her dorm at the beginning of August. It was an exciting time. It was a scary time. Like lots of moms out there, I was excited for her to experience college, but I was nervous about leaving her 450 miles away. However, I remembered something I had read before:

Put the basket in the water.

I got that sentence from a piece written by Ashlei Woods. You can read it here. “Put the basket in the water” is a reference to the time of Moses, when midwives were ordered by Pharaoh to kill baby boys born to Israelites by drowning them in the Nile. Moses’s mother, in an effort to save her baby, placed him in a basket and placed the basket in the river, in hopes that he would live. I’m no Biblical scholar, but even I remember the story from Sunday School lessons. Moses did live, obviously, and went on to become a great prophet. I certainly don’t expect my daughter to become a great prophet, but I want her to live and become the best person she can be. I want her to live life. And by placing her proverbial basket in that proverbial river (college), I sent her on her way.

Has she learned things in college that will help her in her future endeavors? In short, yes. She has learned something in each class she has taken. She has learned about music, public relations, writing…so much. More importantly, she has learned more about who she is. She has learned how to make friends from lots of different places. She has learned how to handle medical emergencies and automobile situations. She has learned how to make doctor appointments and pick up her own prescriptions. And even though I always tried to expose her to as many new experiences as possible, she has been exposed to even more new experiences. She has learned to manage on her own. Sure, she still gets advice (sometimes wanted, sometimes not) from me, but she is doing it! We still support her financially, but she is doing it! We put the basket in the water, and we trusted God and trusted her.

Have there been hiccups along the way? Yes, but she has learned from each one. Last week, SpaceX launched a test rocket…the most powerful one ever launched. There was excitement surrounding it, but it failed. And afterward, Elon Musk, the founder of SpaceX, seemed happy in spite of the failure, saying they (the engineers, the company) would learn a lot from the failure. He was excited about what they would learn! Those words stuck with me, because this very successful man was reminding the world that we learn from failure. Don’t get me wrong. Our daughter’s hiccups, so far, haven’t been in the classroom. But any hiccups she has experienced along the way have been opportunities for learning. Learning what doesn’t work is how she will learn what does work.

In a few days, we will move our daughter out of her freshman dorm. As she finishes her freshman year, I will remind her several times, “Finish well.” I am already reminding her to start packing things up and cleaning out her room. And after we get her home for the summer, I feel sure we will notice she is a different girl than the one we sent to college in August. She is older. She is more confident. She is more independent. She is more knowledgable. As my own parents said when I came home after my freshman year, “We sent our daughter off to college and got a different person back.” They often joked that I was “switched at college.”

We are excited to have our girl home soon.

by Kelly Mattei

Don’t Pick Up the Shoes

Don’t pick up the shoes.

I saw a Facebook post today on a page called Alabama News and Comment. It’s a page from the news division of Alabama’s Radio Station, 101.9 Fox-FM. It appears to be a station out of Birmingham. Don’t ask me how I got to the page, because I have no idea. It was one of many squirrels my brain chased today. And this time, I ended up on Alabama News and Comment, reading a piece about a woman picking up her husband’s shoes. You can see it on Facebook here.

My husband picks up his own shoes, so I don’t think I have ever had to pick them up for him, but it made me think of my parents.

My parents were married for 45 years before my Daddy died. He was young, just 68, and died of pancreatic cancer. Many times, though, during his retirement years, he would take off his shoes in the living room and leave them underneath the coffee table. I’m guessing he usually carried his own shoes to the closet, but it was something I never gave any attention at the time.

And then, in 2006, Daddy died.

We did what families do. We supported each other for a few days, and then my little family returned to Charlotte to resume our lives. We settled back into real life. About a month later, I decided we needed to go visit Mother; she’d had time to rest and recuperate after months of caring for Daddy, and I thought she needed company.

Upon arrival at my parents’ home, I saw Mother standing outside waiting for us, but I didn’t see Daddy. Of course, I didn’t see him, because he had passed away a month before, but his absence hit me hard. I got out of the car with tears streaming down my face, and Mother said, “I should have warned you how difficult your first visit back would be…your first visit without him here.” She knew, because she had lost her own Daddy. It had never occurred to me how the absence of Daddy would take my breath away. But it did.

We all went inside and sat down in the living room, and that’s when I saw Daddy’s shoes under the coffee table. I looked at them, and I looked at Mother. Her eyes met mine. I didn’t even have to say anything. She simply said, “I can’t move them.” I cried again, but I understood. Seeing those shoes where Daddy left them likely made her feel a little like he was still there. It was a small way of tricking her brain into feeling like Daddy was still there…a comfort. As I read the piece on Facebook today, my brain went straight to that time, and I thought, “One day you might want to see his shoes in the living room.”

Life is like that. Sometimes the things we never think we will miss are the very things we miss…or even the things we find comfort in. When our daughter was a toddler and didn’t sleep well, many times I would have to go upstairs and lie down with her. My husband and I shared a doctor at the time (a mistake I won’t make again in this lifetime), and when he was at the doctor, he mentioned it in passing to “our” doctor. The next time I was there, she opted to lecture me about how bad that was for me and for our daughter. It angered me greatly, because frankly, I thought it was none of her business, and soon thereafter, I found another doctor. What did I know that the doctor didn’t know? I knew we all parent differently, and I knew myself far better than she knew me. I knew, in my infinite wisdom, that one day, I would be sad when my daughter didn’t want me around as much. Was it a little inconvenient for me to spend a half hour upstairs helping our daughter get to sleep? Yes, but I loved every minute. And guess what…she’s a freshman in college now who doesn’t need me to help her get to sleep. *Many times, I have wondered what kind of communication that doctor has with her own children…if she has the same great relationship with hers that I have with mine. I actually feel sorry for her and for her children. I know mine trusts me, and some of that trust might just go back to those nights she needed me to be there while she fell asleep.*

If my daddy’s death taught me anything, it taught me that life is not a dress rehearsal. We have to live now and enjoy the little things. When our daughter was a toddler, I would pick her up and carry her in my arms any time she wanted. My friend, Jennifer, and I believed (since we had only children) we should do that, because one day we wouldn’t get to carry them anymore. We wouldn’t know when it was the last time, so we did it every time. No, I don’t remember the last time I carried her, but I know I carried her on my back multiple times after she became too heavy to carry in my arms. And if she asked me to carry her today (she’s 19), I would. You can bet on that.

And as much as it annoys me that my husband can’t resist the urge to open the curtains on the window on my side of the bed, I know that, if something happened to him, I’d likely miss having to go close those curtains when my side of the room starts to heat up from the sunlight.

Enjoy the little things…even the little annoyances.

by Kelly Mattei

We Miss the Elves

We miss the elves.

I know, I know. Every parent who is having to deal with The Elf on the Shelf right now is wondering why they ever bought into that commercialized bit of Christmas.

Seriously, how many times will you forget to move the damn elves during the season? I remember many times our daughter would come downstairs in the morning to find the elf in the same spot as the day before. She would ask if it had lost its magic. “Oh, no honey! It was just really foggy/stormy/cloudy out last night, and he couldn’t make the flight safely.” I had to think fast, and I couldn’t let the panic show on my face.

Other times, I would wake up in the middle of the night and remember I hadn’t moved the elf. I would get up, try to wake up enough to be creative with a “hiding place,” and stumble back to bed…cursing the elf the whole time.

And then, the elves multiplied at our house! She teceived them as gifts. Or she asked them to bring friends. When all was said and done, we had SIX elves visiting our home, and that meant I had to move all six of them every night. (I know…I know…I’m crazy to have allowed it.) Not only that, but I also had to get more creative after she heard about other friends’ elves that did more interesting things than just sit in the Christmas tree. Keeping up with the Joneses was real where the elf was concerned. She didn’t want to think Santa sent her a lame elf (or elves!).

Seriously, it got out of hand. Those damn elves were leading better lives than I was: writing all over the vanity with toothpaste, bungee jumping from the stairs, bathing in Christmas M&Ms, coming in on a wrecking ball, drinking Karo Syrup, trapping each other in cake domes…oh, to be an elf! And the notes and “surprises”! They brought little trinkets. They wrote her notes in their special elf handwriting. My brain had not been that creative in years, but I made it happen. Honestly, I became an overachiever where the elves were concerned, and I’m sure all her friends’ parents hated me for it. I don’t blame them. I hated that I let myself fall into the trap of that level of insanity after seeing others post on social media, but I did it.

I thought about all this last night, because my daughter, who is now 19 and a freshman in college, was hanging out with friends and texted me, “Can you send me pictures of the crazy things my elves did?” I searched through years of pictures and found some to send her. She sent back lots of laughing faces, lots of “Lol” and lots of “wow.”

Then I went down the rabbit hole.

I started texting her elf stories. I told her about the time she came running into the kitchen just before Thanksgiving Day (when the elves are supposed to arrive) with an elf in her hand. I’m not sure how old she was…maybe six of seven? She had gone into my room to look for something in a drawer, and she had found an elf. “Mommy! Look what I found in your drawer!” I was standing at the stovetop preparing dinner but looked down to see her holding the elf up for me to see. Somehow, I thought fast and replied, “Wow! He must have known you would look in there today, and he was just waiting for you to find him!” Her eyes widened! She bought it hook, line, and sinker! She replied, “I guess so!” And the elves got an early start (ugh) that year…lucky me (insert eye roll here).

Another year, on Christmas Day, she seemed a little sad…unusual for Christmas Day. She was eight, and she should have been excited and happy the whole day. Finally, in the afternoon, I asked, “Honey, are you OK?” Immediately, the flood gates opened…her bottom lip rolled down as her chin quivered, and tears rolled down her cheeks. “I miss my elf!,” she exclaimed. My heart broke. My sweet little girl thad been holding in those emotions all day. I could have been stern. I could have followed the elf rules, but I didn’t. I hugged her. I comforted her. And then I said, “There might be a way to get him back.” Call me a sucker if you want, but personally, I love knowing my child is full of so much love. That year, her elf had taken on the task of replacing some of her “babies” (stuffed animals) that had been accidentally thrown out while we were having her room painted. She appreciated what that elf had done for her, and she loved her elf for it. Who was I to say the elf couldn’t come back? Surely, there was a way?!? I said, “Here’s a little secret: since it’s still Christmas Day, you can make a wish on a Christmas candle, and maybe the elf will come back.” I’m still patting myself on the back for this one. My husband brought us a Christmas candle, and I sat down on the sofa with her, telling her to close her eyes and make the wish before blowing out the candle. Then close her eyes again and slowly count to ten, just to help the wish. Whatever…I was winging it, OK?!? While she slowly counted to ten after making the wish, my husband scampered quietly into our room, got the elf out of a drawer and placed him on the dining room table. When she opened her eyes, I said, “Maybe the elf will return. He might show up in an unexpected place.” Of course, she couldn’t resist the urge to start searching. When she found him on the dining room table, it was sheer joy! Her Christmas wish had come true! Since the elf had returned on a Christmas wish, she was allowed to hold him (against the Elf on the Shelf rules), so she settled in on the sofa to watch a Christmas movie with him. I told her she had 30 more days with the elf, but he wouldn’t fly back and forth to the North Pole, and had to leave after those 30 days. She agreed 30 more days would be enough…and it was.

The elves were popular at our house for several years until one day, she simply said, “Mom, I know the elves aren’t real.” In some ways I was happy. I wouldn’t have to remember to move them! I wouldn’t have to find creative places to put them! I wouldn’t have to wake up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat when I realized I hadn’t done anything with them! I wouldn’t have to lie about the fog/storms/clouds. At the same time, my heart broke a little. Sure, my life would be a little easier because she didn’t believe in the elves anymore, but it would be a lot less fun.

Now that she’s 19, the elves no longer come around. One moved to a new home when a neighbor melted her daughter’s elf on a lamp and was in a desperate search for a new one. We had one that matched hers, so we let her have it. Our daughter didn’t believe anymore, so it was nice to know we were saving another parent from a meltdown. Now, we look back on the elves with fondness. And honestly, they make good stories.

We miss the elves…not enough to bring them back, but we miss them!

by Kelly Mattei

First College Birthday

First college birthday.

If you’ve ever read me, you know our daughter is a college freshman. She experienced her first college birthday yesterday, when she turned 19. Let’s hope it didn’t set a precedent for college birthdays.

She called me at 7:00 yesterday morning, the morning of her birthday, saying, “I woke up a little while ago and can’t go back to sleep.” She is more of a night owl than an early bird, and 7am is way too early for her to just “be awake.” I knew something was wrong. Because I knew she had been coughing a sniffling a little for a couple of days, I said, “Go get the thermometer out of your cabinet. I feel pretty sure you are running a fever.” Moms know these things. She checked her temperature, and sure enough, I was right…she had a fever of 100.9…a legit fever. I knew she had a COVID test in her supplies too, because I had purchased them along with $700 of other medical supplies before moving her into her dorm, so I said, “Take the test real quick, just to rule it out.” As soon as she had the negative result, I said, “Take some Tylenol and go back to bed.”

Seriously, it’s hard for a college student to be sick in a dorm instead of their own bed at home…especially a freshman, but not gonna lie…it’s hard for the moms too. I wanted to jump in the car or on a plane and get there as quickly as I could. I asked, “You need a mommy hug! Do you want me to come down and get us a hotel room for a few days? I can take care of you!” I explained that since my husband was out of town, it would have to be the next day, because I would need to board the dogs and get things in order, but I could do it. She said, “Absolutely not. I will be fine. I’ll figure it out, Mom.” I guess I did something right as a parent…somewhere, somehow, I taught her to “figure it out.”

She called me a few hours later and said she was feeling better and had gone to her 10:00 class. I knew it was the Tylenol in her system making her feel better, so I explained to her that she was likely to “hit a wall” soon. It was time for the meds to wear off, so I told her what else to take at that point.

It was sad. She had big plans for her birthday. She managed to drag herself to the Big/Little Reveal at her sorority house that evening, but she didn’t feel like going out to celebrate. Fortunately, she has made some great friends since she arrived on campus two months ago, and they went out and brought her a cookie cake to celebrate her birthday. They had all planned to go out to dinner, but that birthday dinner was postponed. And my daughter texted me, declaring her birthday a “do over.”

I’ve had “do over” birthdays, so I get it, and seriously, shouldn’t we all have the right to declare our birthday a do over?!? I think her “do over” has been rescheduled for this coming Saturday night. In reality, that will probably work better for her and all her friends, since it’s a weekend. They won’t have to worry about staying out late, because they don’t have class the next morning.

But last night, she called me after surviving her sick-away-from-home birthday and said, “I’m going to watch a movie and go to bed. What should I take?” I told her to take some NyQuil, and she took it while we were on the phone. Laughing between coughs and sniffles, she said, “I never thought I’d be taking a shot of NyQuil on my birthday.” After taking it, she settled in to watch Sense and Sensibility, a movie I have been trying to get her to watch, because it is one of my favorites of all time. Emma Thompson adapted the screenplay from the Jane Austen novel, and she did a fabulous job…plus, she’s the star. It’s an incredible film. My daughter, I think, is very much like the Marianne character. I want her to watch it to see the similarities and how Marianne changes in the story. I knew she would fall asleep before the first scene was over, because she had taken the NyQuil, but at least she was willing to try to watch it. Maybe I can get her to sit down and watch it tonight without NyQuil. ***You can rent or purchase Sense and Sensibility (the one from 1996) at Amazon Prime here.***

I’m just glad our favorite girl seems to be on the road to recovery. Maybe the illness kept her from getting into some kind of trouble or accident on her birthday? I like to try to find “sliding doors” (a reference to a movie called Sliding Doors, starring Gwyneth Paltrow, and you can also rent this on Amazon Prime here) logic in things, meaning little things that happen to change the timing on things can change the course of life. She’ll celebrate her birthday with friends this weekend, and when I get to town in about ten days, I’ll take her out to dinner with some of her friends…or not, if she’d rather just the two of us hang out.

I think it’s safe to say she will remember her first college birthday…the one that included taking a shot…of NyQuil. She was sick on her fourth birthday too…strep throat…and it made a lasting impression. I took her to a Disney on Ice Show, even though she had strep, because we weren’t going to be around anyone…and she threw up all over herself while we were there. She still talks about it. That one was a “do over” too.

Making memories…somehow those “not so great” birthdays make an impression.