My mother's life changed completely. By the time she went back
to work, Bill Clinton was president. By the time she and my dad
shuttled my youngest sister off to college, 30 years had passed.
Now, you'd think someone who stumbled into motherhood might
regret spending that much time on it. Okay, maybe you wouldn't
think that — I think that, because I love my job and love having
enough disposable income to shop (occasionally!) at Stuart
Weitzman.  But not my mom. She was genuinely good at being a
mom, and as weird as it seems to me now, I think it was quite
fulfilling for her. She blossomed.  In fact, she misses little
kids so much that she and my dad typically spend half their
weekends driving to visit my sister in Milwaukee. That's 16
hours in the car, round trip. And I might point out they haven't
been to Phoenix in three years.  Milwaukee is where their
grandchild is.  They love this little guy so much that my mom
actually cites him as one reason they're glad they had kids. I'm
thinking, what, we're this b