by Kelly Mattei

Moms Stick Together

Moms stick together.

My daughter, a senior in high school, was just accepted to my alma mater, and we have paid the enrollment deposit. Next fall, she will be attending a university that is 450 miles away from home…450 miles away from us! But thinking about it doesn’t cause me great stress, for a number of reasons. One reason is that we live in Charlotte, a hub city for American Airlines. We can hop on one of five or six daily flights and be by her side pretty quickly. Another reason? I’m familiar with the surroundings there; there is some comfort in familiarity. The main reason? I know lots of people who live pretty close to the university who can act quickly to help her if needed. There is a lot of comfort in that.

Last Friday, at a high school football game, I was chatting with the mother of another senior, and she told me her son is interested in the same school, but they are hesitant for him to go there, because it’s so far away! A six or seven hour drive! I reminded her that we can be there quickly on American Airlines. And then I told her what every mom really wants to hear: I have lots of friends in the area who can be there to help with just one phone call, and I’m happy to make introductions. Moms like to know their college-age kids have someone to help them if they need it. Sure, they’ll be eighteen years old, but people need support systems…even at my age, I need a support system. When I told my friend that I know other moms and dads there who will be happy to help, I could see her relax. “Really? That makes me feel so much better,” she said.

One thing I’ve learned from being a mother for the last almost-18-years is that moms have to support each other. We have to stick together. We have to help each other.

Three years ago, my friend, Wendy, passed away after a long battle with various forms of cancer. I had met Wendy through a toddler playgroup right after my daughter turned one. Today is her 50th birthday, so I’ve had her on my mind. I posted something on Instagram and on Facebook about her birthday, and all our playgroup moms commented. One of them sent a text saying, “Thinking of Wendy today and that always makes me think of you all and the playgroup that saved my life and enriched my girls’ childhood. Love you all.” And she wasn’t exaggerating. We were all first-time moms when we met, and we truly saved each other. We started as a weekly playgroup but went on to become best friends, support systems, confidantes…we saved each other, for sure. With toddlers, life can be lonely, but our weekly playgroup turned into friendship so strong that we gathered almost daily. It saved our sanity and gave our kids a support group too!

All our kids went on to different preschools, kindergartens, elementary schools, middle schools, and high schools. They’ll probably all go to different colleges. But along the way, they’ve always known that core playgroup was rooting for them. They might not get together regularly, but they’re still friends. They know who they really are. They know their childhood would not have been the same without each other. And along the way, the playgroup moms have added other support systems, but we still know we have each other…no matter what.

I know our kids have learned a lot from us (and vice versa), but I hope that, along the way, they learned the importance of finding and maintaining a good support system. They saw their moms supporting each other, propping each other up when it was needed. I like to think they know that, no matter where they are in college, if they need someone to call, they can always call one of the playgroup moms. They can even call one of the playgroup kids…the ones who are almost adults now. And I hope they share that support system with other people who need it.

Don’t we all feel like that mom who is concerned about her son being 450 miles away without a support system? Don’t we all like to know there is someone we can call or someone our children can call in an emergency, or if they just need to talk with someone?

Two weeks ago, a college friend I haven’t seen in years texted me, telling me she was afraid her teenage son might be stranded in the Charlotte Airport and asking me about hotels near the airport. There is no way I would have let her teenage son go to a hotel, and I’m sure she knew that, but she didn’t want to impose. I texted her back, saying, “I don’t live too far from the airport. If he is stranded, call me, and I will bring him to our house for the night.” Another friend in Ohio had called me two weeks before that, asking if I could pick up an Ohio friend’s daughter at the airport and keep her for the night if she missed her connection. Of course I could! I was flattered to be asked! And you know why?!?! Because I want to be part of someone’s support system. I certainly would have called on those friends to help my daughter if needed!

So yes, we moms have to stick together…especially the moms of high school seniors who are preparing to go off to college. I’m putting it out there now: if your child is going to college in or near Charlotte, put me on your list of people to call in an emergency. I’ll always help.

by Kelly Mattei

Serendipity

Serendipity.

A couple of weeks ago, I flew to Birmingham, Alabama, with my daughter and a friend. We flew out of Charlotte on a Wednesday night and flew back Thursday afternoon. We were visiting a college. On the return flight, I traded seats with my daughter’s friend, so they could sit together. Often, I dread finding out who is sitting next to me on flights…someone who is coughing, someone who has body odor, someone who brought their own smelly food onto the flight…but this time, I was lucky. As soon as I saw my seatmate, I knew she was cool.

And I was right. We started talking before takeoff, and we didn’t stop chatting till we got off the plane. She was a cute little pregnant lady (in her 30s), and as luck would have it, we have friends in common! She went to high school with my next door neighbor’s children, and I even know her aunt and uncle! When we landed in Charlotte, we parted ways. I texted our friends in common and told them how cute she is, and I followed her podcast Instagram (@itssportssis). She and her sister have a sports podcast…very cool. I’ve listened to one episode, but I need to listen to more…these chicks are pretty awesome.

Today, I met a couple of friends at Cafe Monte (it’s a personal favorite; see the website here) in Charlotte for brunch. One friend we hadn’t seen in a while, because she moved to High Point, but she was in town, so we got together and chatted for a couple of hours. When we stood up to leave, I turned around and saw a familiar face at the table behind me…my friend, Sarah…the one from the plane! The one with the podcast! Yes, I called her my friend, because I think of her as a friend now.

What luck! I like to call it “serendipity,” which is defined as “the occurrence and development of events by chance in a happy or beneficial way.” It was complete luck that I met her on the flight after trading seats with my daughter’s friend…and it was complete luck that I ran into her again today…serendipity.

We chatted for a little while, and I told her I hoped she hadn’t come down with the stomach bug that had fallen on my family after that Birmingham trip. She said she had been fine, so we decided my daughter and her friend must have caught it from someone they sat near on the flight. My husband caught it from my daughter, so we know it was contagious and not something they had eaten. I then introduced Sarah to one of the friends I’d just brunched with. I pointed out to them that they, too, have people in common, since my friend also knows Sarah’s aunt! I told Sarah I think we were just destined to be friends; there is no other explanation for our serendipitous meetings!

It reminded me of another serendipitious meeting I had four years ago yesterday. I had gone to Panera Bread with my then-14-yr-old daughter and some of her friends after school. We had walked all the way through the restaurant to get to a table…passing every table along the way, I’m sure. When our order was brought to our table, my daughter’s cookie was missing, so I had to get up and walk to the pick up window to ask for the cookie. When I did, I saw a familiar face…a friend from college…someone I likely hadn’t seen since 1989 or 1990! Instead of approaching immediately, I walked over to a wall opening, a sort of window that overlooks the dining room…it was right next to her table. I poked my head through and just smiled. My college friend noticed, and we had a delightful reunion right there in Panera Bread. She lives in the Atlanta area…what are the chances I would run into a college friend from Atlanta in a Panera in Charlotte?!?! Serendipity! (Today is that friend’s birthday, so Happy Birthday, Suzanne!)

I love when things like that happen! You never know who you’ll run into!

For now, I’ll be shopping for baby gifts for my new friend, Sarah, who is expecting a baby girl in January. She’s a Virginia Tech fan and big sports fan, thus the podcast, It’s Sports Sis. Give that a listen, and I’ll find a cute Virginia Tech themed gift.

by Kelly Mattei

Mammas, Don’t Let Your Babies Grow Up to Be…

Mammas, don’t let your babies grow up to be…

Songwriters Ed and Patsy Bruce wrote a country song titled Mammas, Don’t Let Your Babies Grow Up to Be Cowboys back in the 1970s, and Mr. Bruce released it on his album in 1975. (For the record, I prefer to spell it as “mamas” instead of “mammas,” but that’s how it’s spelled in the song.) The version I’m more familiar with was recorded and released by Waylon Jennings and Willie Nelson in 1978. I’m not a big country music fan, but for some reason, I’m familiar with that song. The song lists a whole host of reasons mammas shouldn’t let their babies grow up to be cowboys. You can hear it here.

I don’t recall anyone telling me, when I was growing up, that they wanted to grow up to be a cowboy. I remember my daddy saying that when he was little, he wanted to be a cowboy when he grew up. Western movies were all the rage then. But one day it occurred to him that his daddy was a cowboy…running a farm…and as soon as he realized it, he knew he didn’t want to be a cowboy. He didn’t want to do what his daddy did when he grew up. I’m sure he had mad respect for his hardworking daddy, but he didn’t want to follow in his footsteps that way.

Recently, I flew home from Miami on American Airlines, and I found myself seated next to a lady who works for a department within the federal government. I didn’t get her whole name, and I don’t even know her official position, but she told me she majored in Criminal Justice. My own daughter had expressed an interest in that at one time, and I said to her, “What are you going to do?” I don’t even remember what her response was, but I forgot about the conversation and moved on, thinking that was probably just something she said on a whim. But in talking with the lady on the plane, I began to second-guess myself. She had majored in Criminal Justice and loves what she does! I shouldn’t have been so dismissive of my daughter’s desire to major in Criminal Justice. It’s her life! She gets to decide what she wants to do with it, and maybe she knows something I don’t!

When I got home, I went to my daughter and apologized for poo-pooing her idea. We had a long conversation about her future, and I told her I had just gotten a reminder that it is her future, after all. She can major in whatever she wants, but we need to discuss, so we can make sure she gets all the information she needs before deciding on a major. She needs to understand what kinds of careers she can have with what kinds of majors. She needs to make an informed decision. And I was reminded of that once more just two days later, when we met with the assistant dean of a division of a university we visited. He talked with her about who she is and what she enjoys, and he suggested some majors she probably didn’t even know existed…and the careers that go with them.

It’s a big world out there with lots of opportunities. For me, I think I have realized it’s important that I help our daughter decide what she wants to do, but I don’t tell her what she can and can’t do. That’s for her to decide. It’s her life.

That being said, if she comes to me and says she wants to be a cowgirl when she grows up, I won’t tell her she can’t, but I might discourage her for any number of reasons. She has ridden horses but doesn’t have a whole lot of experience in that department. And there aren’t a whole lot of cowgirls in cities. I just don’t see her living in a rural area, so the cowgirl life could be tough for her in, say, the greater metropolitan Los Angeles area…or New York…or Chicago…or even Charlotte, for that matter.

She’ll be off to college next year, and who knows what she will major in or how many times she will change her major? I just want her to do something that helps her become a contributing member of society while being able to take care of herself.

by Kelly Mattei

A Mother’s Work is Never Done…

A mother’s work is never done.

This week started out so great. I took my “sweet escape” with my friend to Miami for dinner at Nobu, and we had the best time! The day after we returned from that fun adventure, I took my daughter on a college visit. We have done a few, and she didn’t really want to do anymore, but I told her we were going, because some people had gone to a lot of trouble to schedule this tour, and we had a great time. We flew home Thursday night, feeling good about everything we had seen. College visits are one of the great things about motherhood. I love them. I’ve been doing unofficial college visits with our daughter every time we were near a university or college over the years, and we have done a few official visits. This was the last official college visit I plan to make as the parent of a prospective student. We are enjoying the college admissions process, but we are happy to have all the official visits under our belts. We came home on a high.

And then, Friday morning, things took a bad turn…

My daughter went to school in her cute little cheerleader uniform, excited about the Friday night football game. She left home at about 7:30am, and at exactly 9:30am, I received a text from her, saying she wasn’t feeling well. She was experiencing nausea. I responded, “Go see the school nurse.” Our daughter had lots of fun plans for the weekend, and I knew she wanted to tough it out, but when she called me a little while later, I knew she needed to come home. She had been to see the nurse and gotten some Tums, but she was feeling worse. I instructed her to go to the nurse and tell her she needed to come home.

She fought the good fight, but she was home at about 11:00am, and she went straight upstairs to her bed. And soon thereafter, the real nausea kicked in. Thank God she made it home before that started happening! It was a loooong day, to say the least. I didn’t know if she had a stomach bug or food poisoning, but either way, it was a long day. It’s hard to be sick, but it might be harder to see your own child sick like that. I did everything I knew to do…encouraged her to sip Gatorade, wiped her face and neck with a damp washcloth, rubbed her feet, prayed with her, stayed with her, encouraged her to try to sleep it off. We finally called the doctor, who prescribed some anti-nausea meds, and after taking them, she fell asleep till the next morning (yesterday). I was so thankful she wasn’t “hugging the porcelain throne” anymore. She was on the road to recovery, but I made her stay in bed most of the day yesterday. Her body had to be exhausted. I was pretty tired too, after staying up most of the night with her, which I was glad to do, because she is my baby, after all. A mother’s work is never done.

All day yesterday, my husband and I watched college football. My team won…barely…but a W is a W. We watched other games and relaxed all day. Our daughter crawled into bed with us last night and watched a game before retiring to her own bed for the night. I slept really well after being up most of the night before.

And then…

This morning, at about 6:30, I heard my husband jump up and run to the bathroom. The stomach bug had struck again. Man…the hits just keep on coming! We have managed to get his nausea under control somewhat, and again, I’ve worked hard keeping his drinks fresh, keeping a damp washcloth handy, rubbing his feet, and encouraging him to try to sleep it off, but now that I know how contagious this particular virus is, I’m not getting anywhere near his face. I’ve been washing my hands so much for the past three days that they’re starting to crack! I ran the dishwasher on extra hot this afternoon, and I’ve washed all the towels and washcloths in hot water. I’ll be moving them to the dryer soon…on high heat. These germs must die!

Our daughter went out for a little while this afternoon, but she wasn’t gone long. She called me and said she was on her way home. When she arrived, I met her at the door with a fresh cup of Gatorade and helped her get upstairs to her room. She is simply exhausted. I went to the nearby 7-11 and got her a Coca-Cola Slurpee. There’s just something about a Slurpee (or an Icee) that makes us feel better; she has believed since she was a little girl that Slurpees/Icees cure all ills. When she was a little girl and not feeling well, she would ask, “Will you go get me an Icee/Slurpee?” I dashed out and got her one every time. A mother’s work is never done.

I’m praying the husband starts to feel better in the next couple of hours. And I’m also praying I don’t catch this bug. Oh, it’s terrible. I’m even eating bland foods, just in case…grits have been the staple of my diet today. There’s very little I hate more than a stomach virus.

I’ll be sleeping in the guest room tonight, in hopes that I can bypass it! Yes, I slept in the bed with my husband last night, but I have a pretty strong fan on my side of the bed, and I hope it was blowing all his germs in the other direction. We shall see!

One thing I know for sure: when our house is rid of this horrible bug, I’ll need another “sweet escape.”

by Kelly Mattei

Sweet Escape

Sweet escape…

Sometimes, I just need to get away. It’s not that I have a miserable life. I love my life. But I like to roam sometimes, and last week, I was feeling the need to get away, so I did.

Last Friday, I started dreaming of the food at Nobu. If you’re not familiar with Nobu restaurants, you should be. To say they are Asian fusion restaurants does not do them justice, but that’s what they are…except the food is exceptional. The service is always outstanding, and the atmosphere is incredible. There are 16 or 17 of the restaurants in the United States (and even more worldwide), but I’ve only been to four. I’ve been to those four multiple times, but I’ve only been to four. I’ve never been disappointed…I’ve almost always been overwhelmed by the level of service and the fabulous flavors they meld together! I have some favorite dishes that show up in my dreams sometimes. That’s how much I love it.

Since I was craving it, I decided to check airfares to Miami, where there is a Nobu, and when I checked, I was shocked to find a $90 fare between Charlotte and Miami! I promptly called my friend, Meg, who is always up for an adventure, and asked if she wanted to go to dinner in Miami soon. She was totally up for it, and we made dinner reservations, hotel reservations, and airline reservations within 10 minutes! Our airline tickets ended up being $96 each, because of availability, but we were happy to pay that! Done!

We flew out Monday morning, and we had upgrades on the flights, so we found ourselves in first class on an American Airlines Boeing 777, which offers lie-flat cubicle-style seats between Charlotte and Miami. Yay us! We were so comfortable for those two hours that we hardly knew we were on a plane at all! Upon arrival, we grabbed a taxi to Eden Roc Hotel, and when we checked in there, we were offered a generous upgrade to a lovely oceanview suite with a big balcony. Woohoo! After putting our bags in the room, we dashed out for some nearby shopping, then came back to the hotel for some cocktails at Malibu Farm, an oceanview restaurant that has some great specialty cocktails. She had a watermelon cocktail, and I had a pineapple cocktail…both delicious. Yes, we were drinking our calories, but we at that moment, we didn’t care.

We arrived at Nobu just in time for our 6:15 reservation, and the real fun began! We both have some favorite dishes at Nobu, so we ordered a lot of food! Our server was incredible, guiding us through dishes we were not familiar with and making suggestions. That’s one of the great things about Nobu. In my experience, their servers know all about their dishes and can make recommendations about what dishes work well together. We started with a baby corn appetizer. Sounds weird, right? That’s what I thought the first time a server told me about it. As it turns out, it is one of my favorite things ever…baby corn in truffle butter topped with curry powder. Nobu serves small plates to share, so I think we probably had eight or nine different dishes, and that didn’t include our dessert…Miso Cappucino…one of those dishes I dream about on the regular. By the time we were done, we almost needed to be rolled out of the restaurant! Chalk that dinner up as a huge success! We were happy!

We flew home early Tuesday afternoon (less than 24 hours after arriving) after lots of great laughs and great food! I didn’t sit next to my friend on the flight, but I sat next to a nice lady who had an interesting job…giving me an idea about something my daughter might be interested in doing one day! We were home by dinnertime!

It was a getaway worth taking, and for $96, we couldn’t have driven to Miami! A sweet escape!

by Kelly Mattei

Friday Night Lights

Friday Night Lights…Not an original title, obviously. Chances are, you know I’m talking about high school football. More specifically…high school football in Charlotte, North Carolina. Not exactly what I consider a hot bed of football. North Carolina is more of a basketball state. But we sure had fun at a high school football game in North Carolina last night.

It was the first home football game of the season. Growing up in Alabama, I always loved the first home football game of the season at our high school. Total excitement and anticipation. I vividly remember the big win our high school team had in the first game of my senior year. I was a cheerleader, and we had cheered through two miserable seasons in the previous years, but that first big win of my senior year was foreshadowing of a great season to come. Our team ended up playing well into the playoffs…up to the semifinals…before losing to the eventual state champion team. Last night, it felt much the same at our daughter’s high school. After last year, when fans were not allowed to attend the few games we had, this was a welcome change! It was a fun excuse to get out on a lovely Friday night and celebrate something together…namely, a big win for our high school team. I like to think we were celebrating the win, but we were also celebrating the opportunity to be together. Whole families came out to the stadium for some good, old-fashioned fun on a Friday night, and it was electric!

Our daughter is a senior at an independent school. She started school there when she was four years old, entering at transitional kindergarten, a kindergarten readiness program. She has grown up there. And this year, her senior year, is the first year she has been a cheerleader for football. She played varsity field hockey for the first three years of high school, but opted for a change this fall. She has been a basketball cheerleader for two years, so she wanted to try cheering for football…this is her first experience cheering for football…and she is loving every minute of it. The team started the season with two away games, so the girls were looking forward to the opportunity to lead a home crowd in cheering for the team. And last night, they did a great job.

The football team did a great job, ultimately winning by a large margin. I’d be lying if I said I knew the exact score, but I know we won by a lot. There were some exciting plays for both teams…long passes, big tackles, turnovers, big runs. I love football in almost any form, and our team did not disappoint. The concession stand crew was working hard, just like they used to do pre-COVID. The pep band showed up in full force. The dance team put on a heck of a halftime show. And we all cheered our team on to victory. The elementary-aged students were happy to be together in the stands. The families were thrilled to catch up. It was exciting to hear the familiar voice of our announcer on the loudspeaker. It was awesome to feel “normal” again.

Many of the students in the crowd and on the field have grown up with our daughter. I was talking with her transitional kindergarten teacher in the stands, and we reminisced about the time…way back in 2009…when a little boy in the class broke his shoulder blade at the end-of-year class party. At 6 feet tall, that little boy is no longer a little boy. The broken shoulder blade healed quickly, and he is a now a handsome young man on the varsity football team. Many of those TK students are still at the school…graduating with my daughter in May. The two other senior cheerleaders started in kindergarten with our daughter in 2009. Almost all the senior football players have been at the school since kindergarten…all except one, a young man who entered the school in ninth grade and quickly endeared himself to his classmates. He’s a superstar on the field and in the classroom.

As it turns out, Friday Night Lights can be fun no matter where you are…Alabama, Western Pennsylvania, Texas, West Virginia, or even North Carolina. FNL looks much the same in Charlotte in 2021 as it did in Alabama in 1985. I’m just glad it doesn’t look like it looked in 2020!

by Kelly Mattei

Modern Love

Modern Love…

Back when I subscribed to The New York Times, one of my favorite regular columns was the one titled Modern Love. The Times describes the it as “a weekly column…about relationships, feelings, betrayals and revelations.” I had been struggling to find the words to describe it, but that sums it up.

The column is different every time, because it is written by readers. Readers submit their own personal stories. I can only imagine how many stories they receive, because I can only imagine how many I’ve read over the years. Sometimes they are poignant. Sometimes they are touching. And oftentimes, they are even funny!

I cancelled my subscription to The New York Times several years ago when I realized I was paying about $80 a month for the daily paper. It was the last newspaper subscription I had; at one time, I received three papers a day, but I had stopped subscribing to the other two when I realized how much I was spending on newspapers. I was sad to drop the NYT, but I just couldn’t justify $80 a month for a newspaper…and I didn’t like how the price seemed to continually climb…it started to feel like I was being ripped off. And it seemed excessive. So I cancelled it, and I have missed it.

This past weekend, I had coffee with my friend, Jennifer. She is my TV/movie guru friend, and she sometimes recommends things for me to watch. This time, she asked, “Have you ever read the Modern Love column in The Times?” I told her I had, indeed, read it many times over the years…and how much I used to look forward to it when I had my daily subscription. And that’s when she told me about the Amazon Prime series based on the stories in the column. It’s called, of course, Modern Love, and Jennifer said it is a must see.

Based on Jennifer’s recommendation and the fact that I love the column, I sat down and watched a few episodes from Season 1 of the series last night. It seems the stories are based on stories printed in The NYT over the years, with some fictionalization added, of course. And the stories are great ones…riveting, even…very well-written.

The first episode is about a young, single editor looking for love in all the wrong places while living in a rent-controlled apartment in Brooklyn. Early on, we learn the apartment has been in her family for some time, so we don’t wonder how she can afford the lovely apartment in a doorman building. And the doorman is central to the story, as we learn early on that he is omnipotent and can “see” if each of the editor’s dates will turn into something more. Without giving away too much, I will tell you it will take you on a rollercoaster of emotions during the half-hour episode.

Episodes that follow are based on different characters…an entertainment lawyer’s struggle to find love, a seemingly perfect love, a betrayal, and more. The series is good, because the acting is good, but also because the stories seem real. You might even see your own story in some of the episodes.

And I think it’s the “seeing yourself” that makes it especially interesting. It made me think of my own “modern love” story. I’ve been married for 21 years, since I was 33. But before that, I was the perfect example of someone “looking for love in all the wrong places.” Or maybe I just had some growing up to do. I met my husband through some friends at work…not a very interesting start, unless I tell you I had gotten out of a years-long relationship just three weeks before meeting him. Because of my own experience, I always tell young people who are in an iffy relationship, “You won’t meet Mr./Miss Right as long as you’re with Mr./Miss Wrong,” meaning if you stay in a dead end relationship, you won’t meet someone with whom you might have a meaningful, lasting relationship and start your own family. I was just lucky I didn’t meet the man who became my husband three weeks earlier, because it would have been a missed opportunity…I was still with Mr. Wrong. I choose to think it was divine intervention that brought him to my office three weeks later. That’s my Modern Love story, in a nutshell. Maybe I will write it in detail one day…

For now, I’m recommending you take the time to watch Modern Love on Amazon Prime. Each episode is about a different set of characters, so if you find yourself not enjoying an episode (like the one starring Anne Hathaway), you can move on and not miss a beat. I will warn you, though, that while I was initially annoyed by the Hathaway episode, it ended up being a good story, so stick with it if you can.

And because I have fallen in love with Modern Love, the series, I might resubscribe to The New York Times. I used to love reading it…not so much for the news, but for the fashion, the entertainment, the well-written columns…like Modern Love.

by Kelly Mattei

Time for a New Passport

Time for a new passport…

Our daughter’s last passport was issued when she was under 16. Because of that, it was only valid for five years and couldn’t be renewed in the regular mail-in way. We had to get a new one by applying in person at a post office, and a parent had to accompany her.

We aren’t planning to travel out of the country till March of 2022, but because I’ve known so many people who had nightmare issues with passports, I decided we needed to get this taken care of well in advance. So we went to the passport office at a US Post Office today. Getting the appointment was the first hurdle. Appointments are not plentiful, and you’re taking a big chance if you go as a walk-up customer. According to the sign on the door of the office we visited, walk-ins are taken on a first-come, first-served basis…and only if there is enough personnel there to handle it. Wow. To me, that sounds like you could wait all day and still walk away empty-handed. I was so glad we had an appointment. If you’re considering applying for a new passport or getting a new one before your minor child’s passport expires, you can search for appointments in your area here. None of the offices near our house had availability, so I ended up making the appointment at an office about 30 miles away, in Harrisburg, North Carolina.

We arrived, and my daughter groaned when she saw the crowd waiting outside. I said, “Don’t get all worked up. I think a lot of these people probably don’t have appointments, but we do.” As it turns out, I was correct. Most of them didn’t have appointments. We waited outside for the employees to come outside and call the names of people who had appointments. Our appointment was at 11:30, and we arrived at about 11:20. The first employee came out at about 11:40, and she informed us that she was calling people’s names who had 11:15 appointments. Several of them weren’t there. At about 11:55, she came out and started calling the names of people with 11:30 appointments. We were the second ones called.

Luckily, my daughter had filled out everything before we arrived. We had all the appropriate documentation: her current passport, a birth certificate and a photocopy of it, her driver’s license and a photocopy, her social security card and a photocopy of it, checks to pay for everything, and my passport and driver’s license to show as identification to prove I’m her mother (she’s not quite 18). Oh, and passport photos…we had those too. Our daughter went yesterday to CVS and got those done there.

Here’s some info for those who don’t know it: If the applicant is under 16, they receive a passport that is valid for only five years. Both parents must go to the passport office with the child to submit the application. Applicants aged 16 and 17 receive passports that are valid for ten years, but they need to show “parental awareness.” It was easy for me to go with our daughter, so I showed “awareness” in person. To see information about 16 and 17-year-olds and application requirements, click here.

When we got inside, we were seated, and the agent took all our documents. About five minutes later, she came over and asked us to come to her desk. Once there, we signed some paperwork, wrote checks, and answered some questions before we were on our merry way. It didn’t take long at all. In fact, since we were prepared, I would go so far as to say it was easy! The agent helping us was super nice, and it was a pleasant experience.

Now, we wait for the new passport. I paid for super-duper expedited service, because I wanted to decrease the odds of our having a problem. I don’t want to be worrying about our daughter’s passport when it comes time to travel in March. That actually happened to a friend of mine this summer. She was supposed to travel to the Bahamas with us, but her passport didn’t arrive in time. She missed the trip, and we missed her while we were there!

If you know you’re going to need a new passport or need a new one for your child, go ahead and do it. According to the website, the US Passport Agency is still playing catch up after closing for COVID, and it can take up to 18 weeks to get your passport. That’s 4 1/2 months! Also, remember that many destinations require you to have at least six months validity on your passport when you arrive. The country we are visiting in March doesn’t require that, according to their website, but I didn’t want to run the risk of the airline refusing to board us. It’s not worth the worry.

All this is my way of reminding you to check the expiration date on your passport, so you can get busy trying to renew it…or in the case of minors, get a new one.

And don’t dread the process, because we have had some great experiences with agents in the Charlotte area. The first time we got our daughter’s passport, we went to the Post Office in Matthews, NC, and the lady there was amazing. This time, we went to the Post Office in Harrisburg, and the lady who helped us there was amazing as well! I know it’s an intimidating process, but get it done and stop worrying about it!

by Kelly Mattei

Motherhood

Motherhood.

I awoke at 3:00 this morning…wide awake. Taking a peek at the clock, I realized immediately it was my late mother’s birthday. And I couldn’t go back to sleep. The same thing happened to me on the first anniversary of her passing. I couldn’t sleep.

As I lay in bed, my brain started going crazy. That’s rare for me. I’m a person who can hit the pillow and fall asleep. Usually, when I wake up, I simply roll over and go back to sleep…many times a night, in fact. But this morning, at 3:00, I could not go back to sleep. I started thinking about my mother and how much she loved being a mother. Then I started thinking about how much I love being a mother. I truly believe it is the right job for me, and it’s certainly the single most important job I’ve ever done. I’ve certainly given it my all…just as I learned to do from my own mother, who gave us her all. She was a registered nurse by trade, but in her heart, what she always wanted to do was be a mom. And she was a damn good one. She would drop anything to help us or our friends. She made sure we were exposed to different cultures, different places, and different experiences. She volunteered at school and our extracurricular activities. She prepared meals and snacks for us and any of our friends who showed up at our house…all the time. Clearly, I did a lot of thinking last night.

After all that thinking, it occurred to me that our daughter will be a full-time resident of our home for less than a year. This time next year, she likely will be a few weeks into her first semester of college. It’s exciting for her, and it’s exciting for us. But until she goes off to college, I want to continue being a full-time mother, the best job in the world. I’m sure there are people out there who think it’s not important, but for me, absolutely nothing is more important.

And because I realized at that moment that my full-time mom career will be coming to an end when she goes to college, I needed to be closer to her. Sounds weird, but at that moment, I just needed to be “mommy” in the middle of the night again, so I went upstairs and crawled into bed with her. She stirred a little before rolling over and asking, “What are you doing here?” I explained how I was feeling, and she gave me a big hug and told me to stay the rest of the night. So I did. She intertwined her feet with mine like she did when she was a little girl, what we used to call “tucking in” her feet. She held my hand, more for my sake than her own, and we both fell fast asleep.

My own mother was always there for us in the middle of the night. Bad dream? I’d wake up Mother. Thirsty? I’d wake up Mother. Simply didn’t want to be the only one awake at night? I’d walk into her room and wake up Mother, asking her to go to the kitchen with me. We would sit there while I drank a little water. She likely had a cup of coffee…yes, she drank coffee in the middle of the night. It wasn’t that I needed water…I really just needed my mother. Last night, I guess I just needed to be a mother.

For years, our daughter would call for me in the middle of the night if she woke up. Or if she had a bad dream. Or if she didn’t feel well. Or if she just needed Mommy. At 17, she doesn’t do that anymore. Rarely, if she isn’t feeling well, she will call downstairs for me to come up. And on those nights, I do whatever it takes to make her feel better…a cold compress or warm compress, Motrin, Drip Drop (a rehydrating beverage), or just rub her feet or knees (growing pains). While I never want her to feel badly, I’m always happy to go up and help her.

She’s still my baby, and I’m still a full-time mom…for less than or year or so, anyway…just like my mother was to me. Today, on what should have been Mother’s 82nd birthday, I’ll be taking bottled water to my daughter’s cheerleading squad at the away football game…just like my mother used to do. And after I get home from the football game, I’ll have a little cocktail and make a toast to Mother’s birthday.

Happy Heavenly Birthday to Mother.

by Kelly Mattei

While He Was Gone

While he was gone…

A few times a year, my husband and I go on our own vacations. Yes, we vacation together too, but we don’t always enjoy the same places, so instead of arguing about it, we do our own thing.

Last week, my husband visited the beach where he grew up. He got to hang out with his friends there, and I didn’t have to go! Seriously, I didn’t have to go…thank you, Lord. It’s a lovely beach, but it’s just not somewhere I want to spend my vacation time…so he goes when he wants. I go several places each year without him. We take vacations together too…no big deal.

But this time was different. He left Wednesday. He had a routine departure early that morning, and honestly, I was looking forward to having a few days to myself…to enjoy the peace and quiet, catch up on some reading, watch some rom-com movies I’ve seen advertised, and just do whatever I wanted to do. But my plans were foiled as early as the first night.

About ten minutes after I got into bed that night, I heard chimes in the hallway outside our bedroom. The chimes were followed by a loud female voice saying, “The battery is low on your smoke detector. Please change the battery now. The battery power is very low.” Yes, we have a weird talking smoke detector. I felt sure it couldn’t be too low, and I thought it probably wouldn’t talk to me again before the next morning. I was wrong. The “lady inside the smoke detector” repeated her message ten minutes later. I promptly grabbed my pillows and went upstairs to sleep in the guest room.

The problem? I’m short, and we have ten foot ceilings in the hall. I could reach the smoke detector with a ladder (which we have), but I have vertigo. Ladders are not my friend. And any time I lean my head back to look up, the vertigo kicks in…I’d likely fall backward off the ladder. I know my limits.

The next day, I got a neighbor to come change the battery. Problem solved, right? I will be able to resume my peaceful weekend, right? Wrong.

That very afternoon, as I climbed the stairs to retrieve my pillows from the guest room, I noticed that as I got closer to the top of the stairs, it got warmer. Not good. I walked over to the upstairs thermostat, and it was blank. It’s electronic, so I tapped it, hoping it was just in sleep mode. It wasn’t. My husband always deals with the HVAC company, so I called him and asked him to call his contact there. A couple of hours later, the technician arrived, and after an hour or so, he told me we needed a new upstairs HVAC system. I wasn’t surprised, because I knew it was about time for that, but I didn’t expect it to happen when the husband was out of town.

The next day, I sat down with the representative from our service provider, and the day after that, we had a new system installed. It was pretty quick, but it meant I had to sit home half the day while they worked. Not exactly what I had in mind for my peaceful weekend at home.

As soon as the new HVAC was installed, I sat down in the kitchen and thought, “Well, at least I get two more nights to myself.” Not…so…fast! Less than ten minutes later, my husband called and said, “I’m coming home today. Hurricane Ida is coming in, and even though it won’t be a direct hit here, the traffic is going to be impossible if I don’t leave now.”

OK. OK. The peaceful weekend of rom-com movies simply wasn’t meant to be. My husband arrived home safely last night, and we are back to watching the shows he wants to watch. Don’t get me wrong…I’m happy he’s home. I just feel like I missed an opportunity. At least he was grateful that I had handled all the issues in his absence.

It’s OK, I’m driving our daughter to Asheville next weekend for her to meet some friends, and I will stay in a hotel by myself…eating room service and watching rom-coms!