I’m Julie. Julie from See Mom Run. Okay, you’re right. There was no author named “Julie.” Just a subject. Of an essay. Yes, I’m a Mom-Blogger, but I’m also one of the kids in the book. If you haven’t read the book yet, you’re thinking, huh? This is written by Mom-Bloggers, about their lives with their kids. Well, grab the book, because one of those moms is a grandmother. And I’m the mother of her grandchildren.
So, what’s it like to be famous? To be featured in a book? Am I horrified? Embarrassed? Proud?
Yes, I’m extremely proud of my mom. When I received Beth Feldman’s e-mail asking for a story from an empty-nester, I knew who would write it. And I knew exactly what she would write about. Mom’s told the story of dropping me at college a million times over, it was about time she put it in writing.
And her story was right-on. My bus left and Mom waved me off, then sped to the hotel and cried. And cried. Even to the taxi driver. I dread dropping my kids at college just knowing her story.
Mom sent out copies of the book to friends and family. As a result, I’m asked about it all the time. Usually, its not about what it was like for me boarding the bus for Mustang Corral, leaving mom on the curb. No, the question I’m most often asked: Julie, are you really that much of a cry baby?
Actually, on New Year’s Eve, the Huz got the question. Only he came into the question mid-sentence. “She doesn’t cry a lot. Just when she’s tired. Then she screams in hysterics and its hard to calm her unless you just put her down in bed.”
I glanced up, deciding it probably isn’t in my favor to keep this going. “Ummm, honey, they’re talking about me. The book. My crying. Not the baby.”
“Oh,” he chuckled. “Oh, yeah. She’s a cryer.”
Ironically, though, its true. I’m a cryer at night, when we’re tired. I did keep Mom and Dad up til wee hours on the most random of nights. I’d lay in bed, not sleeping, worrying about things going on in my life and what was ahead of me. Middle school, high school, cheerleading, summer programs away from home, death, a swim race, college. Change has always been difficult. And being uncertain of an outcome is even more so.
When the Huz asked my father for my hand, Dad wanted to make sure he knew what he was getting into. “She’s emotional, you know that right?” He knew. And my dad counted the days until I no longer kept him up at night. That’s part of the Huz’s job description.
This post was written in response to Beth Feldman’s See Mom Run: Side Splitting Essays from the World’s Most Harried Moms, the SVMom’s Blog Book Club selection. Beth gave me my copy, and my mom, Janie Lam Meyers, wrote an essay which was published in the book.
© 2010, Julie Meyers Pron. All rights reserved.
