What should I wear tomorrow?

That's what I'd think about before going to work every day.

What kind of jeans-and-t-shirt-combo can I come up with for tomorrow?

Client meeting?

Jeans and a nice shirt.

But...no longer.

I no longer work.

I'm retired.

Or semi-retired.

And I'm living to tell about it.

After almost 20 years as a working woman--5 of them as a working mom--I have left the building.

It was a decision my husband and I had discussed over and over again over the last several months.

The ad industry has morphed from a fun, exhilarating field...to what it is now.

And I needed to get out.

So we pored over the numbers. Adding. Subtracting.

Yes, subtracting a lot.

Then re-adding. Re-subtracting. Re-figuring.

But once an opportunity for me to "let myself go" arose, there was no question in my mind.

So now I'm spending the days with my 5-year-old-going-on-kindergarten daughter.

We go to the park.

We go to lunch.

We go get yogurt.

We read. Have "school".

We play, like I haven't played with her in years.

And I'm so happy.

I was worried that it would be a huge adjustment. That I'd regret my decision. That I'd realize I'd made a huge mistake.

But I'm so. Incredibly. Happy.

It's the best decision I've made since deciding to have a baby. (and before that, deciding to get these cute black wedge boots that are with me to this day)

Sure, it's only 2 weeks in. And everything still seems sparkly and wonderful.

But I don't get that stressed out feeling anymore.

You know.

When you dread going to work on a Sunday night...or in my case, toward the end of my career, the feeling I had every night. And in the shower the next morning.

That stress is gone.

In its place is a kind of wonder.

Wonder. That I'm making this work.

That my husband is so amazing and supportive and happier now than before (most likely due to me not snapping at him every 5 minutes now that I'm free).

I'm a stay at home mom.

Kind of a strange title.

But I'm home. Doing freelance when I'm not pushing my daughter on the swings.

Being with her and being present.

Instead of rushing her to hurry-up-and-eat-dinner or hurry-up-and-walk-faster.

Because really, there's nothing to hurry for right now.

We are making our own days.

We are doing what we want, when we want to do it.

Until fall.

When she'll start kindergarten.

This fall, she'll run straight into the schoolyard.

And begin a running-away-from-me that I won't be able to control.

But this. I can control.

And I think I timed it pretty well.

Because no matter what, I'll never regret this.

I'll never regret walking away from a career that was killing me,

And walking toward my life...

It's going to be a good summer.

The little things

Wow, it's been over a year since I last wrote. This one is going to be short...

Tonight, while we were driving home from work/school, my little girl paused in singing her Lady Gaga song and said, "Mama, I want to stay the same age forever." Out of the blue. Apropos of nothing.

I turned to look back and smile at her, and she was wearing her sunglasses. At 6pm. In the pitch dark of winter rush hour.

I said, "Me, too, honey. Me too."

I got some sad news tonight.

Our dog walker was in an accident about a week and a half ago and they took her off life support on Sunday. She was so young. So, so young.

The news has really affected me, for some reason. Apart from the obvious sadness of it all, I'm not sure exactly why she hasn't been far from my thoughts for the last week and a half. I'd only met her a handful of times: a young girl, crazy about animals, crazy hair, strong personality.

Honestly, after meeting her the first time, and being reassured she wasn't a psycho and would be good to our dog, I never really gave her a second thought unless I happened to be home when she came to get the dog. She was just this...fun girl who walked dogs for a living, mine included.

And here I am: swollen eyes, mind racing. I can't let it go for some reason.

You'd think the reason would be because I have a young daughter. And thinking about anything happening to her—from being bullied in school (which is a possibility, considering how awful I was as a child and payback is a bitch) to being snatched away by a predator—drives me insane.

But I don't think that's it. Partly, yes. Of course.

I can't imagine losing someone I love that much, much less my daughter. I can't imagine what her family must be going through, having to say goodbye. I just can't imagine...

But mostly...it's the suddenness of it. One day she's on a trip to Costa Rica with friends. The day after she returns, she's in intensive care.

How does that happen?

Over the last week, I've thought to myself, "She'll never have to get old. She'll never have to get sick. She'll never have to worry about her kids getting into sudden accidents and being rushed to the emergency room and put in intensive care on life support... She's at peace."

But at the same time, I thought, "She'll never get married or have a partner she wants to spend the rest of her life with. She'll never have kids. She'll never see a sunrise or the stars again. "

So the week's been a kind of seesaw of emotions for me.

My last post was about appreciating my life and all that's in it. But I don't really. I try to. I try to be present and engaged and really "in" my life. But mostly I take it for granted, racing through the days just to get it over with.

And I think maybe that's what it is. She was so full of life. She had a head of hair that could rival Cyndi Lauper on her craziest of crazy hair days. Her personality was bubbly, without being annoying, and irrepressible. And now she's gone.

How does that happen?

So tonight, I'm sad. And I'm having a glass of wine (or three) to help me cope. It seems like an irrational sadness and completely out of proportion, considering my relationship with her. But I'm sad, nonetheless.

I'd like to say I'll learn from this: take life by storm and really live. And I really do intend to do so.

But it seems that even with all my good intentions, that promise always gets pushed aside. Because I have so much I think I have to do right now. A whole week will pass before I realize I don't really remember any of it. And it's such a waste. I have a life I'm not always present enough to actually enjoy. And she had a life she embraced with both arms.

So while I don't understand how things like this can happen, perhaps she'll be a reminder to me to be happy with what I have and not care about what I don't.

To really pay attention when my daughter is telling me for the hundredth time why the twins were not good at lunch and how one kept throwing her cup off the table.

To let the irritations at work roll off me once I leave and enter my real life.

To really appreciate that I have a life. That I am alive and able to choose to have a happy life. And I have to. Because in one second, it can all change.

She'll always remind me of that. For all she was to everyone who really knew her (and looking at her facebook memorial page, she was very well loved) she will be that to me. A beautiful, crazy-haired reminder to be thankful for what and who I have in my life, and for life itself.

So thank you, Lindsay. For loving our dog, and for who you were—in my somewhat enhanced memories of you—and in reality.

Be at peace.

Always rushing, rushing, rushing.

After my last post, I thought I'd gotten it straight: stop and smell the roses.

But yesterday, I had the day off with my little girl and instead of smelling the roses and taking life in, I lined up errand upon errand upon errand. Rushed her around and stressed us both out.

Then, in what turned out to be the final store, she sat down on a big cushion and pointed to the one next to her. "Sit with me, Mama!" she said. I relented (although still checking my watch) and she hugged me.

"We're together!" she whispered excitedly.

What a wise kid I have.

How did we get here so fast?

Lately I've been pondering life.

I know it sounds a bit cliché, but time really does fly, and with it, years and years of life.

It seems like just last year I was graduating from high school, zipping around with my friends, feeling invincible.

Drinking wine coolers and driving on our suburban streets, sneaking cigarettes and making sure to wash our hands after.

Thinking in 10 years I'd be married with kids. But also thinking that was oh so far away.

And then it seems like just a few months ago that I was graduating from college. Trying to figure out my path. Resisting becoming a pay-my-own-way adult.

Sitting with my friends right after graduation (now smoking pot and drinking wine), wondering where I'd be in 20 years.

Definitely married. Probably with two or three kids. And at least one dog. Living in the suburbs.

And here I am. Almost 20 years out of college.

Holy crap.

Really, where did the time go?

When you're in it, when you're living your life, you just don't realize how fast it all goes: pretty fast.

What sparked this post is something that happened this past week.

My coworker (KimPossible) and I met with some recent college grads, who were at our agency for an informational interview. They're trying to break into the ad biz for some reason. Probably Mad Men.

Anyway, we were sitting there, answering generic questions, and as I answered, I just stared at them.

Them: dressed up in their black pants and blouse and khakis and button-down shirt.

Little kids, dressed up in adult clothes. With makeup (on the girl) and a tie (on the boy).

When were we that young? Were we ever that young? Did we ever look that young? I don't really think so. But if we did...how did we get here so fast?

As we chatted with the toddlers about how now was the time for them to move to Chicago, one of them said (after pulling his pacifier out of his mouth), "Yeah, it's not like we have a mortgage or anything." And he laughed.

Yeah, well, I do.

And a husband and a kid and a dog and a car payment.

This meeting was kind of a wake up call to me.

Socrates said, "The unexamined life is not worth living." (Yes, surprisingly, I can quote Socrates as easily as I can quote Lindsay Lohan.)

And now that I'm a bit older, I can see he had a point.

Time is moving and it's showing no mercy.

In 20 minutes, those two kids that we interviewed, those eager-to-get-a-job-and-start-their-lives kids will be where I am now. Wondering how it went so fast.

The weeks and months and years that I've willed to go by quickly because I'm trying to get to the weekend, are never coming back.

I've already lived half my life—which scares the shit out of me.

Forty years just flew by. And I feel like I haven't been present for most of it (pot-smoking, hazy days excluded).

Of course I have specific memories. Memories of the big things.

I remember holding my baby girl for the first time, feeling drugged up and like I'd been crying for days, but somehow so alert and elated and happy. This is a snapshot that's frozen in my mind.

But ask me what we did last week, last night, this morning... and I'll pause. Because I'm racing through my life. Like something's chasing me.

Recently, I had been complaining to my friends about all I do not have, and not considering all I do.

So I'm going to try and consciously pause. Be present. And look around.

Because there's a lot to look at.

I have a great husband. And a great kid. And a great dog. And it's all right here. All I have to do is pay attention. Because I don't want to miss any more.

After all these years, that flew in seconds,

I finally realized...I have an amazing life.