busy schedules

Girl Power!

Posted on Updated on

{It’s not what you think.  I’m not a feminist.  Just defining some things that make life better.  And I’m a girl, soooo….}

The English language does an obscene injustice to the vast color-wheel of envy and coveting experienced by the common female.  Oh, we don’t like to admit it.  But admit it.  Even the best of us has experienced this little demon at some point in our life.

Looking back, my 20s and 30s were plagued with it.  I may not have been symptomatic, but I was a carrier.  Envy presented as “ambition”, but it was there.  Friends had higher paying jobs.  Other friends (or worse…the same ones) had *perfect* marriages (cough cough).  Other friends had nice homes (I realize now I was envious of absurd mortgage payments).  I longed for the country club membership, the nice car, achievements that would bait all the likes, the job that made me sound uber important, or the husband with one so that I could attain the highest of all female statuses…Housewifery.

So I joined the Junior League, bought the used Mercedes, spent money on clothes, got the Master’s degree.  Moved into the bigger house, bought tickets to Charity Ball, earned five half-marathon medals, and got a whole lotta likes.  Know where all that got me?  Exhausted and broke.  And even a little more envious because it appeared that others did it with such ease (cough cough).

Not that my 40s instantly propelled me into total WGAS-mode, but I must admit, I’ve been freed from the chains of the things I used to care the most about.  I’m sure this change was supported by moving out of Victoria and into a life of near-anonymity, as well as baptism into Jen Hatmaker’s For the Love way of thinkingEither way, I’ve found happiness in downgrading cars (come on and hit me with your best shot).  The last thing I want is no job (more jobs is actually what makes me happy).  And maybe even laster than that is wanting to dress up to go to a fancy restaurant or sit poolside with people who American Expressed their perfect lips and thighs.

After five years of half-marathons, I had one excuse after another – divorce, family in town, that little matter of the tib-fib fracture.  The last time I met up with my original running girls (why did we not call ourselves ORG?) was 2012 – I went to cheer for them and eat with them and hear their war stories from the course.  And I felt like a loser.  I love these girls with all my heart, but here they were, more fit than ever, obviously more reliable than me, and with more medals than me.  I was happy for them, but I was sad for pathetic old me.  Guess that was which friend I was.  The loser one.

ndodbtw

What. the actual. hell.  Same meet-up last weekend…they ran, I showed up to eat.  Guess what we discussed over Mexican food and the smell of Icy Hot?…Their run, of course. Their training.  Their journeys.  But also my book.  And my next book.  My happy grown-ass independent daughter.  My awesome new job.  Our years until TRS kicks in (I think this officially makes us adults).  Our amazing husbands and kids.  I’ve done a hella lot this year.  So training for a marathon wasn’t one of them.  WGAS!

I owe this realization to a meal and conversation about running in that very same Mexican restaurant ten years ago with the very same friends (God bless Lupita, whoever she is).  I owe a lot, in fact, to watching them both (should I call them Sarcy or Marah?) and their desire to study and truly learn the sport (thanks, RPG, for everything), commit to something and stick with it, and support each other through accountability and lots of laughs.  I have those traits!…just didn’t use them in the same way.  And guess what?  I’m not sure if I was more proud of their marathon or if they were more proud of my book.

Moral of the story:  In good times, and bad times, I’ll be on your side forever more.  That’s what friends are for.

images31go0rmy

So yeah, that’s what friends do.  Sorry and sad it took me this long to enjoy it this much.

176694-that-s-what-friends-are-for

ENFP -Why it’s fun/terrible being one

Posted on Updated on

One thing my boss learned about me in my final weeks at my job is that I’m a tightly-wound ball of loose, fun, colorful, frazzled yarn.  Or maybe I’m a loosely-braided ball of really hard, tough wire.  I don’t know…Who knows?!?!  She looked at me with great sympathy and said, “It must be really stressful being you – you’re a walking contradiction of OCD and ADD.”

enfp-insightgame

 

I was known as the free-spirit, the hippy, the rule-breaker, the “what box?” person in our office of 16.  So it seemed strange to her when I melted down in my office and busted out with the admission that my house was in disarray because of the reno, my treadmill was out of commission, and it made me feel like my whole life was falling apart.  Okay now that does sound dramatic.  However, I thrive on structure and schedules and to-do lists, yet I operate in un-structured spontaneous irreverent ways.  I finally realized that the lists and order are coping mechanisms I’ve developed to survive in the real world.

This got me thinking…Is there any part of me that is wholly and completely any one certain way?  (These things are probably not unique to ENFPs, and certainly not unique to me…just a little self-realization at 40, that’s all.)

Political views:  With regards to taxes, government-involvement, economic policy, domestic and global protection…completely Republican.  With regards to personal decisions …completely Democrat.  I realize this pretty much makes me a Libertarian, which pretty much makes me screwed.

Religious views:  My dad, grandfather, and uncle are/were Southern Baptist ministers.  I was raised in the church and am so thankful for it.  I like believing in the things the Bible teaches.  I like the way I feel/am/behave when I leave church.  I think a lot of the world’s problems would be solved if more people knew and followed Jesus.  I don’t believe everyone else has got it all wrong and are doomed to hell.  I don’t believe science had no part in this.  I don’t believe we should look any differently at people who don’t believe like we do.  I don’t believe what Christianity is taught to be, in most cases, was what was intended. And even if I’m still afraid to be so brash as to claim that any parts of the Bible are wrong, humans are.  All the time.  And we’re the ones trying to read/teach/impose it.  Language and metaphors and translations and interpretations are real actual things.  Jenn Hatmaker says it best in her book, For the Love…”If it isn’t also true for a poor, single Christian mom in Haiti, it isn’t true.”  Fact check, mic drop.

Career:  I need someone to tell me exactly what to do, and then I want to do it completely differently and them not get mad.  Good thing I’m going to be a teacher again.

Homosexuality:  If you’re going to use the Bible for reference to claim something as a sin, you have to use the same Bible as your reference that God created everyone in His image.  Never met a gay person who was faking it.  Never met a gay person who hadn’t tried to be straight.  I have lots of friends who are gay.  Some of them are the very best at showing God’s love – why should I care who they show it to?

Gun control:  Guns should be controlled, but if I want one, please sell me one.  I don’t care about privacy when it comes to this topic.  I believe in lots of regulations here.  But I think the sudden surge in taboo-izing guns is part of the problem.  I want to be the one to decide who gets to buy guns and who doesn’t.  I think that might help.

Marriage/Family/Divorce:  Going to have to make this one a separate post.  Stay tuned.

Parenting:  I want to give them tons of structure, bedtimes, schedules, rules to follow, expectations to meet, with tons of independence, freedom, and self-expression.

Media:  I hate the media.  100% completely.  There!!!…I found something without a “but”.

**The Myers-Briggs Personality test categorizes ENFPs (Extraversion, Intuition, Feeling, Perception…also known as Campaigners, Champions, Idealists) as constantly contradicting themselves because they genuinely see multiple sides to most situations.  Sorry not sorry.

In search of summer…

Posted on Updated on

I’ve had five days off since my last day on the job, yet, in typical fashion, I’ve managed to make sure I don’t feel like it’s summer break.  Not sure what’s in my head (single-mother syndrome?), but I’ve always tried my derndest to make sure no one has an opportunity to see me as “lazy”.  I feel like I’ve always been so excited about summer, but never really really done what you’re supposed to do with it.  Today might be different..

th68VH678K
This looks like what I feel like, minus the hat.  I don’t feel this confident in a white fedora.
thRK0BXQJF
This is an actual photograph of me, for reference.

I’m going to justify some down-time today to write.  Kwame Alexander answered a fourth grader’s question, “What is the hardest part about writing a book?” with the response, “BIC.”  Butt In Chair.

Well my butt is in the chair, it’s 10a.m., I have a glass of Skinny-Girl wine in front of me and no bra on, so, by golly, it must be summer so I’m writing.

I’ve had a lot of posts swirling around in my head, and though I haven’t made time to write any of them down yet, I’m going to make a list of the posts I want to write over the next three or four days.

  1.  My soon-to-be-published book, Where Poppy Lives – past lessons, present timeline, and future plans
  2.  My conflicting views on just about everything & why they make me happy-slash-sad
  3.  Inspired divorce (this one might merge with #2)
  4.  Home reno update
  5. The boys of summer

I’m going to try something new for me…I’m going to leave this page right now, and I’m going to set up the drafts of each of these pages.  Then I can add to them as I think of things – this technique more closely resembles my brain anyway, so it might be a better mode of operation for me.  I will set them up, type a little, go get on the treadmill (better not take a second sip of this wine), and come back to each of them as required.

We leave for the lake (hallelujah) this Saturday, so my goal is to complete(ish) each of these by then because I want to be free of all brain activity by the time we get there.  THAT will truly feel like summer.  (Right?…I think…not sure I know what it’s supposed to feel like.)

thX951TBVI

 

 

Wah, wah, wah. (ABC Challenge)

Posted on Updated on

thYPMOMT2A

I just deleted the whole post I had started (and almost finished) here because of how whiny it sounded when I reread it just now.  I’ve been crying a lot.  That’s it.  Don’t know why (maybe job-change, house in boxes for upcoming reno, band seemingly slowly dismantling, treadmill isn’t working, watching Call the Midwife, allergies, lack of sleep, being 40, maybe.)

In the meantime I blamed everything else imaginable.  I know it’s not my husband’s fault, or lacrosse’s, or his band’s, or anything else I accused.  But I can’t really fix any of the likely culprits.  So I’m going to stop whining.  (I might not be able to stop crying, but I can stop whining.)

thDWFLUNYL

That’s it.  Short post.  If I keep going it’s going to turn into whining.  (And probably crying.) 

oprah-crying

Updates (ABC Challenge)

Posted on Updated on

The A-Z Challenge was over for most people yesterday…I’m a little behind, but I thought I’d take this opportunity to evaluate progress in the areas I’ve been challenging myself.

A- Acceptance:  Took the A-Z Challenge…still with it.  Took the new job…still excited!

B – Boys:  I’ve stopped trying to understand boys.  Boys and girls are not meant to understand each other.  I am still trying to educate my boys (the little ones) about girls and mostly how to navigate the differences and not piss off the ones you like.

C – Confidence:  Meh.  Wearing a short-sleeved shirt today – does that count?

D – Diet:  Bummed about this one.  Stopped most carbs and alcohol, started Insanity and Workweek Hustle with my FitBit (getting in no less than 10,000 steps a day)…Not a pound lost.  Depressed and discouraged, I rage-ate pizza and wings a few times.  Even besides that, probably not doing too well with this one – and DEFinitely not doing as well as I know how to (as my skinny gynecologist pointed out when I expressed concern about recent weight gain.  Bitch.  Jk, I like her.)

E – Expectations:  I’m realizing that my internal clock ticks really fast…that’s helped some.  I’ve also had a conversation with my hott husband that might have given me more insight than before on how his brain works and why some things don’t happen the way I expect them to.  Besides, I would hate it if I knew what went on in my head went on in his too.

F – Facebook:  This one took for a while, but then I found myself stoplight-scrolling uncontrollably.  Today, I’m going to make the conscious effort once again to not look unless I have something I specifically want to find.

G – Grout:  Picked it…going with the one that’s the most like taking me on a date…cheap and easy 😉

H – Husbands:  Great success in loving without fear.  It isn’t as hard of a task as I thought…and it feels so good.

I – Intoxication:  Went drink-free for 5 1/2 days.  Have had many nights without, a few nights with one (none while home alone), and a couple of nights with two.  Probably need to do a 5-day drought every few weeks.

J – Jeri:  Called her so she could keep rubbing off on me.  Need to do it again soon.

K – Keuka:  57 days on the countdown!

L – Learning:  Learned how to delete a row on an inserted table in Word today…so I’d say this one is a success 😉

M – Magazine Perfect:  I have forced myself to leave a few things out that are not bothering anyone.  I haven’t straightened the pillows on the boys’ playroom couch in over a week.

N – News:  This one has been great – not tempted at all.  And the couple of times that I’ve caught the news, it’s been glaringly obvious how terrible it is.  It’s like eating super-sweet desserts after you’ve given up sugar for a few weeks…bleh.

O – Over-analyzing/Obsessing/Over-observing:  Caught myself reading every license plate the other day and then spending way too much brain energy arguing with myself over what year model a particular car was, but otherwise pretty good, maybe?

P – Plans:  Kinda had a grip on this one, then had a long discussion with hott husband that made me shift my grip, if that makes sense.

Q – Quixotic:  Still me.  Still happy about it.

R – Reading:  Haven’t read in a few nights.  Might put down the pedagogy and pick up a YA novel that I’d want to recommend to my future students.

S – SCR (aka Hott Husband):  Love. Him. So. Much.

T – Testing and Treadmills:  Too soon.

U – Updates! – Done!

OverAnalyzing/Obsessing/OverObserving (ABC Challenge)

Posted on Updated on

I wish – so badly – that I knew how other people’s brains worked.  I don’t feel like mine is normal, if there even is such a thing.

It would give me some peace to know that everybody’s brains were completely unique – like a fingerprint – so there was no “normal” to compare to.  But I have a feeling that there is a range of brain and thought patterns, wide as it may be, and mine is way outside the range.

_71876007_c0177401-brain_activity,_artwork-spl

OVER-ANALYZING:  I wish I didn’t always care what people’s motives were.  When someone does or says something, I like to interpret what they really meant.  I like to try to figure out what they’re hoping my response will be.  When I was single, this was bad enough, but then I had a child, and now a husband plus two, and I do it for all of us since none of them seem to care to do it for themselves.

OBSESSING:  As I’ve probably explained quite well so far, I obsess about a lot of things.  But the thing that probably qualifies me for medication and possibly some federal funding is the obsession I feel when I find out I don’t or didn’t know something I should have known (fill in the blank with just about anything that either didn’t affect me, didn’t matter, or wasn’t at all a big deal).  I want to know why, I want to know who’s job it was to tell me – is my email broken? do people not think about me? do I even really exist???  I will obsess until I get to the bottom of it – which usually involves knocking some people down along the way and talking really fast (and not listening to “answers” that don’t do anything to “answer” my questions.)  Apparently.

OVER-OBSERVING:  If you’ve been an acquaintance at any time in my life, I’ve known what you drive, and if I’ve passed you ever on the road, I’ve seen you.  I probably waved and you didn’t.  I’ll notice every discarded tag in the bathroom trash, any set of blinds that is turned a slightly different angle than I turn them, and any Q-tip that doesn’t look like it came from any of our ears.  I should have been a detective, because this super-power does me no good whatsoever in my everyday life.  Also, I seem to be the only person at work to utter the words “Y’all match!” It’s a wasted gift, really.

What I want from all of this is to be Oblivious – some of the time anyway.  I don’t want to take prescriptions or do illegal drugs.  I think it’s probably why I like a little drinkiepoo every now and then.  Any suggestions?  Meditation?  (Just so you know, I’ve tried to be a pray-er, but I don’t focus very well, and before I know it I’m planning dinner or remembering to return my Stitch Fix, and then a few hours later I remember that I need to say in-Jesus’s-name-I-pray-Amen.)  Anybody?  Same?

if-i-had-a-dollar-ice-cream-add-brain

 

 

News (ABC Challenge)

Posted on Updated on

This one is easy…Already started, in fact.

Watching the news is a horrible way to start your day.  Watching the news is a horrible way to end your day.  The news is pretty horrible.  Don’t get me wrong – I was a news junkie for many years.  I like certain news anchors, love obsessing about the weather, and like to feel “in-the-know”.  But frankly, all of that was masking a vulgar load of emotional baggage being pumped into my veins and brain and heart.  Murders, smash-and-grabs, scandals – every day.

With the onset of our Insanity workouts, I’ve been able to thwart my usual routine of waking up, turning on the news, and drowning my daily vitamins with Spark.  I know I don’t have time to be lured into the circuit of stories – it’s a trap…their teases really do work (on me anyway).

I’ve found very quickly that I don’t miss it.  None of it affected me, like, at all, anyway.  I can look up the weather on my phone.  I can make an educated vote in November without knowing how many affairs each candidate was accused of having, how their maid afforded a vacation to Maui, or if they – gasp – took the subway to work this morning.

News on a pro re nata basis only…just like Facebook.  All part of the brain cleanse.  That is all.

(Bye, guys.)

thVU4AWFPK

Magazine Perfect (ABC Challenge)

Posted on Updated on

I just Googled this term, and it’s not even a thing.  It was at 510 Brodie when I was growing up.  This term, apparently made up by my mother, embodies so many wonderful things about my upbringing and heritage, and so many things I can’t seem to give up.

Are all obsessions bad?  I feel like this one is just one of my quirks (I think I’m justifying a lot of these post topics that way lately…)  But it is an obsession nonetheless – one that causes undue stress almost every day.  I’m not expecting – or even wanting – to turn this one completely off…just moderate my expectations.

If I was going to cast someone to play my mother in a movie about her life, I would have a hard time deciding between the proper Hyacinth (from the BBC) and the oh-so-southern Paula Dean (from the South).  She’s the juxtaposition of keeping up appearances and lovin’ Jesus while cookin’ with bacon grease.  Her mother (more like a mixture of characters from Dallas and The Beverly Hillbillies) wasn’t too much different in her appearances/housekeeping/presentation standards.  On more than one occasion, I called to ask if I could drop by and see her while I was in her area, and she declined because her house wasn’t presentable.

Much like my grandmother, I don’t want people to see my home in any state other than “Magazine Perfect” – the term my mother used to distinguish whether she wanted me to merely clean my room – dust, vacuum, empty trash – or arrange it for the magazine photographers who were inevitably going to drop by unannounced to take pictures of our interior for Southern Living magazine – bed made, throw pillows and blankets strategically staged, frames placed on shelves by height and in odd numbered groupings, and stack of classic novels innocently gracing my desk…and of course I want it to appear effortless. (She never told me these were the things I had to do – I just created that as a definition.)  As a kid, I preferred “magazine perfect” to cleaning.  It involved throwing un-pretty things in my closet and desk drawers (’cause what kind of wackadoo photographer would take pictures of desk drawers???) and making things look pretty.  Nowadays, I enjoy cleaning too, but I still – honest to God – have the thought in my head that a magazine photographer might show up on my doorstep, and By God I’d better be ready.

Like I said, this obsession isn’t ALL bad.  I love living in a tidy house.  I love the compliments from people who drop by.  I love things looking nice.  But most people really don’t care.  I don’t get that, but they don’t.  This probably goes back full circle to my Confidence post.  I don’t feel like I judge other people if their houses are messy (I kinda do if they’re dirty), but I do find myself grateful that I live like I do, and I do expect to be judged.

Here’s what I need to focus on:  Who do I feel like I need to make happy?  The answer should be me and my family.  It does take a regular cleaning and a regular picking-up to make me happy.  It takes very little to make my family happy – I want them to care, but they just don’t.  And I should see this as an opportunity for some freedom from stress…I’m going to try.

*voice in my head* I’m going to be SO mad if a magazine photographer really does show up on a day I’m practicing not caring.  SO mad.

(in my head, that’s me below)

this one

Keuka (ABC Challenge)

Posted on Updated on

 

 

In 73 days, this family will make its annual pilgrimage back up to the holy land – known to others as Keuka Lake.

I hear all of the Finger Lakes are spectacular, but Keuka is the one where I’ve perched for two solid weeks of relaxation each of the past three years.  My hott husband has been there almost every summer of his life.  And last summer, it’s where we celebrated the 50th year of Maga’s Lake House and we were married on the dock in a perfect little gathering.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

His family home there is warm and welcoming, its hosts are laid back and gracefully hospitable, the lake is cool and clear, and the people are friendly.  But even if these things were not true, there’s something else extraordinary about this place…

They have a time-travel portal.

If you count their horses, the Amish might outnumber televisions, and they definitely outnumber air conditioners.  You might find some of what you need at the little grocery store, but you still need to stop at the butcher’s, the Amish market, and the fruit stand.  The summer days are long, the tables are large, and the windows are open.

1001135_10151682029357445_52319724_n

But here’s my favorite part of the time travel there:  kids get to be kids – without instructions or a plan or an itinerary or supervision, all day, all the while learning more than we could ever teach them.  Our kids and the neighbor’s kids run all day – All. Day. – up and down from the lake to the woods and around again.  They fish, build forts, make up games, swim, kayak, sail, paddle, run, run, run, did I mention they run?  everywhere?  When they’re hungry, they figure out how to eat while running.  When someone gets hurt, they clean each other’s wounds.  They celebrate the big catch together. They come up with creative things to make out of trash from the gully.  At dinner, plates get clean, stories get relived, brothers don’t fight, and a good hard sleep comes easy.  They strategize plans to most efficiently accomplish the assigned daily chores.  You can’t make this stuff up!  But they can.  And they do.  For four weeks straight.  They learn more there without adult supervision than in all the time and money we adults (collectively) try to “invest” in their development.  NOTHING is as important at their age as learning things for yourself.  That is hard to find in the suburbs, my friends.

10409449_10152518530557445_2932028525772159290_n

It seems like these days, if your kid turns out to be a self-sustaining adult, it almost has to be in spite of us, not because of us.  My father-in-law dropped this wisdom on us a couple of years ago – “Don’t handicap your kids by making their lives easy.”  But we do it every day.

My adult daughter is a walking reminder of this.  It is abundantly apparent what aspects of her life I kept out of and gave her independence, and which aspects I stunted her growth by  treating her like she couldn’t do it on her own (well, right, enough, etc.)

Challenge/Reminder:  I am going to stop doing for the kids what they can do for themselves.  Obviously, there are time constraints and bedtimes, but their ability-level is way higher than we give them credit for…and there’s a lot of things they should know how to do by this age, but they don’t – simply because we’ve never taught them.

So I might be the bad guy around here for a while, but in this whole step-parenting adventure, I’ve learned that my role is sometimes different than the parent – but just as important.

(Pretty sure it would be a big help if we do what we keep saying we’re going to do and cut off the cable…So many of these challenges are actually going to save us money – I’ve saved money on eating out, not drinking, not picking grout ((oops))…Feelin’ Pre-tee Good 🙂 )

 

 

Jeri (ABC Challenge)

Posted on Updated on

Geraldine Frances “Jeri” Nein-Nein Cox Wilson.

Lessons I’m still learning from my 90-year-0ld grandmother:

  1. Phone calls to say ‘hi’ can be quick.  Just let people know you’re thinking about them.
  2. If you work hard in your garden all day and eat what you grow, you can have ice cream every single night (with toppings).
  3. Almost every child ever is a handful – deal with it.
  4. Crafts and hobbies are wonderfully addictive.
  5. Squeal a little when things make you happy.
  6. Reader’s Digest is way better than television.
  7. Playing in the woods is way better than Reader’s Digest.
  8. It doesn’t matter what a person looks like, where they come from, what they’ve done – every single person deserves the same amount of love.
  9. You don’t need any more than you need.  If you have too much or can make more, give it to someone else.
  10. Walk fast – there’s lots to do.

10330336_657802514274043_5289534562163410143_n10300082_676167172437577_1509656587862584352_nCapture (2)

Intoxication (ABC Challenge)

Posted on Updated on

This next self(ish)-improvement challenge is way less selfish than the rest.  And it’s not one I planned on assigning myself when this A-Z challenge month started:  I’m going to stop drinking.

I know…it sorta feels like I just started!  I didn’t drink in high school – Not (only) because it’s illegal, but because I hadn’t met a drink I liked yet.  And in high school and early college, you kinda just have to accept what someone else is willing to illicitly provide you.  I did, however, learn to hold a drink in my hand.  I would accept a beer or a Bartles & Jaymes so that I didn’t have to go through the complicated turning-down-a-drink exchange, and then I would just hold it.  I might take a teeny tiny sip and try not to wince if I thought someone was watching, but that was it.

Then I discovered the good drinks.  But you had to get out of your house and go somewhere where they make them.  And then you have to pay for them.  So that was rare.

Then I got a divorce and had lots of time and nobody keeping track of my finances (including me.  another story.)  I went to Greek Bros. an average of two weekdays for Happy Hour and usually at least once over the weekend with friends or my band.

Then I moved here and stopped all that nonsense.  I married a man who makes the best drinks and is happy to make them.  And he gladly does a couple of times a week.

Then I learned how to make them myself.  Not a good thing.

MjAxMy02OGY2MDhjYjc1YThiYWZm

Last night, at a 40th birthday GNO, I had too many.  Yada yada yada, I woke up this morning knowing what I needed to do…Just stop.

I’m not saying I’m never drinking again, and I’m not setting an end date.  But I do know that it’s easier to be the one who says Thanks But I Don’t Drink than to only have one.

It’s a perfect storm right now, really…trying to clear my mind, get into shape, practice all this self-discipline I’ve never had before, save money, and I’m not stressing about my work like I was since I know I’m half-way out tha do’.

So here’s to tea and all the money and calories I’m about to save.  You margarita drinkin’ hooligans can have ’em all to yourselves.  Cheers!

 

Grout (ABC Challenge)

Posted on Updated on

Compelling topic, right?  I’ve been tossing around all kinds of “G” words, should I tie into what’s going on in my life?  Should it be metaphoric?  I toyed with Girls (as opposed to Boys), Girlfriends, Group (I heart my writing group girls), Gravy (who doesn’t love gravy?!), but I’ve settled on Grout.

We’ve decided to go all-in on our house.  My hott husband got this house for such a great deal…stole it really…that even if we did all the things we would want to do in our wildest dreams, we’d still owe considerably less than what the house is worth.  We plan on staying in this very house for another 10ish years, so we want to enjoy it and not wait until it’s time to sell to start updating.

(That’s not my house, btw.)

I’m madly in love with Saltillo tile.  I’m pretty sure it is connected to my childhood memories of nice expensive homes and my current emotional relationship with Mexican food restaurants, but I love the look – especially contrasted with our eclectic style in art and furnishings.

We’ve had two bids, and two different professional opinions about the actual tile installation – particularly the grout choice.

I may have mentioned before that I am not a patient woman.  But I, myself, would like to compliment myself on the self-inflicted patience that I now find myself comfortable with.  Rather than be in a great big hurry to ready set start go finish yay like I usually (always) am, I, a mature woman now, have recognized that our lives are too hectic for home reno at this time.  Lacrosse practices, car pools, piano lessons three days a week, writing group, just to name a few, equal too many bodies and feet in and out all week.  Everything can come to a screeching halt in May, and I am perfectly fine with that, thank you very much.

But I find myself paralyzed by grout right now.  I’m perfectly happy – as usual – saying “Whatever is cheapest and looks cool and you can start right now right?”  But this might actually hold up our start date more than anything else.  Epoxy or cement grout?  I’ll spare you the list of pros and cons because this isn’t a home improvement blog.  It’s about my inability to make this decision.  I haven’t seen epoxy grout in person.  I haven’t lived with either one for decades to know which is easier maintenance and better longevity.  And I don’t hold the checkbook.  (I have a checkbook, duh, just not one that has enough money for home renovations in it.  Sometimes it can barely buy a home renovation magazine.  Another topic.)

I’ve made major life changes that apparently took more guts than the people who seem to be impressed by them have, I can change careers, get a divorce, move to a big new city with one friend after 13 years with many, and I’ve purchased 16 cars since I started driving.  But I can’t change cell phones, and apparently I can’t decide on grout.

There are some decisions I don’t really like to make because they’re things that I don’t care about but somebody else might (where to eat).  There are some decisions that I make with no problem because I DO have strong opinions about many things (who to vote for).  But I can’t make this one, and I don’t want it made for me either.  And I don’t really think it’s that fact that bothers me as much as the fact that I’m not used to being the one who has to go and seek out the information I need to make the decision.

Because what if I’m wrong.

That’s what this is about, I suppose.  I am paralyzed by decisions where there actually is a right choice and a wrong choice, and I can’t handle that responsibility.  I just want to call my dad and say “tell me what to do”.  Most difficult decisions that I have been able to make easily, it’s because I’m willing to work to make what might have been a bad choice into a good one.  This is one where I can’t fix it if it’s wrong, and I can’t bitch about it if I just don’t like it.

Such a small thing with such big implications.  I guess I’m off to start doing my research.  I’ll update with my findings, in case anyone cares.  I need to see it, price it, and consumer-report it.  As Nike says and my hott husband lives, Just Do It.

In other news, the Diet and exercise are going great!  It’s only  Thursday, but I can see and feel a difference.  I’m about to practice some real big Confidence…going into a meeting to present to a few people who have petitioned my public beheading.  Haven’t been on Facebook and haven’t missed it one bit.  And Expectations, a work in progress.  (Small episode last night, no need to talk about it now.)

I still feel like a blog is me talking to myself, but I’ve started reading many of yours, and I’m completely driven now by the rewards of being on both sides of a blog.  So thanks 🙂

Facebook (ABC Challenge)

Posted on Updated on

I’m not sure how I feel about Facebook right now.  I’m kinda getting over most social media, but Facebook has particularly been bothering me lately.

I have 476 “Friends” on Facebook.  I know, we’ve all heard the talk around who’s really your friend, why you have certain people in this category at all, how some of your “friends” wouldn’t even speak to you if they saw you in real life…But that’s not really what’s bothering me.

I’ve recently developed a perceived physical sickness from scrolling ad nauseum.  I’m sure it has something to do with staring at a little screen, and probably NOthing to do with my aging eyesight.  But it’s even more than that.

I feel physically sickened by knowing so much about so many people – their kids, their jobs, their political and religious affiliations – only the parts they’re proud of, of course – and I don’t know why I need to know all of this, and I honestly wonder if parts of my brain are being overrun by irrelevant bits and pieces about people I may or may not actually care about – along with beautiful scenes in Italy and mouth-watering culinary masterpieces.  I certainly don’t need to take up space in the emotion department of my head with car accidents that happened near Lubbock, men being arrested for abusing dogs in rural Indiana, and a football player I’ve never heard of who has been accused of abusing his kids.  I love the quippy little smart-ass quotes, but I find myself replacing real human conversation with the recitation of funny things I read.  I love seeing pictures of my friends’ kids grow up, and I hope they enjoy the moments that I decide to share, but at times it almost feels like exploitation.  Most of the kids featured – mine included…most recent pic was a car-ride-napping pic – didn’t make the choice to have their picture passed around to hundreds of people.  And referencing my “Confidence” post, I too often find myself critiquing/judging things that have nothing to do with me or my business.

And I can’t leave the Facebook quizzes off my list – I don’t really need to know what state Facebook thinks you should live in, and I CERTAINLY DON’T NEED TO WASTE MY BRAINCELLS WONDERING WHAT STATE I SHOULD LIVE IN.  BUT I DO.

 

Next Self(ish)-Improvement challenge.  No Facebook until Sunday.  I know that’s only three-and-a-half days away, but it’s a first step.  I want to see how I feel, even though I already know.

This theme I’ve created has kinda turned into a monster.  I’ve sort of created 26 years worth of Lents into 26 days.  I’m not even Catholic – I don’t need this kind of pressure!!  Just kidding – I do.

Expectations (ABC Challenge)

Posted on Updated on

Last night, I was thinking out loud to hott husband on the phone (he’s in Atlanta on business) about what my “E” post should be.  Since the theme of Accepting Self(ish)-Improvement Challenges has poked its little head out, I now have parameters.  He first said “Exercise“, to which I explained, unsuccessfully, how yesterday’s “Diet” post was really more about Exercise.  I reminded him of my theme, and he – without hesitation – blurted out “Expectations“.

Ouch.

I know this is the one thing that sometimes tries to divide us.  I’m sure it’s really at the root of most people’s problems.  But we’ve definitely identified it as a big difference between the two of us, and my way of managing expectations as being the spark that starts most of our very VERY few conflicts.

Example:  I walk very fast.  I do everything very fast.  I can go to the store with a list of 20 items, get in get out and get home in thirty minutes.  I walk in the door, and hott husband says, “Oh my gosh…you did that in like two minutes!”  Husband doesn’t do anything hastily.  He – as people should – enjoys everything.  He loves to look at items in the grocery store, even if he has no intention of buying them.  He’ll see jelly with a funny name and make up a song about it, dancing in the aisle for a good solid five minutes.  He also doesn’t spend any brain cells trying to strategically plan his grocery run…He might meander from one side of the store and back and back again four times, and it doesn’t stress him out.  All being said, it takes him for.ev.er. to make a grocery run.  He walks in the door, I’ve been running through the three most rational scenarios that could have caused his delay (accident, phone call from family member, fire in front of the exit), so not only has my expectation of time not been met, but when he walks in the door I’m expecting his “Oh my gosh you won’t believe what happened” story to explain his delay.  Instead, he be-bops in the door singing his new jelly song, and the instant he sees “the look on my face, he knows what’s about to happen.  It shouldn’t be a big deal.  It shouldn’t even be a deal.  Why do I make it a deal?

He acknowledged on the phone last night that I haven’t done that in a long time.  But there are still little cases-in-point from time to time.  Not that our relationship is comPLETEly perfect, but it’s pretty dern close.  And I can control one of the tiny little things that blemish it on a monthly-ish basis.

I look at him – Mr. Positive – and wonder how it is that he doesn’t even seem to ever have any expectations that those around him need to try to meet.  And I realize that’s just it.  He’s positive.  I am much more of a Negative Nelly when put up next to HIM, and I’ve never had to see myself that way.

Capture1

I need to let him rub off on me.  Not only do I need to Let it Go, I need to not have IT to begin with.  This one’s going to be tough.  (I think I’ve said that about Acceptance, Boys, Confidence, and Diet.  Guess it’s part of the theme too).

In about four minutes I’m resigning from my job.  New chapter.  I don’t even know WHAT to expect, so I’m going to look at that as a good thing.  This might birth tomorrow’s topic.  🙂

Diet (ABC Challenge)

Posted on Updated on

I’m not talking about “dieting” in the American twenty-first century sense…I’m talking about diet.  I’ve been eating and drinking a lot of crap lately.

Today was my first day of my fourth round of the formerly-popular Insanity workout.  My hott husband (then hott boyfriend) and I bought a used boxed set of the DVDs off Craiglist in 2013 and started on April 1st.  It was also an all-important English I STAAR testing day for me, and I worked at the high school which required my arrival by 6:45a.m., and I was just coming off a ferocious tib-fib break that had birthed a titanium rod in my left leg, screws in two places, and a cut open and stitched back together knee-cap.  Thinking back on it now, I was one tough cookie that year.

But it was all about the challenge then.  I was out to prove something.

thY120PBZI

The next year was good too…it was nice to feel like it was a little bit easier.  Last year I was such a slacker.  I was scheduled to have surgery at the end of the first month of the two month program, so I knew I was only going to get in one month.  I didn’t even do that month with any real vigor.

This year needs to be different.  I have added 10 solid pounds to my “normal” weight, 13 since the wedding.  I’m forty now.  And I’ve made the career decision for August that puts me back in the classroom where I’m happy and know I can feel my best.  My motivation has never been weight, and it’s a good thing because Insanity has never made me lose any.  But it needs to this year.

190047_10151654324252445_1554339886_n

So I’ve been announcing to anyone who will listen (my hott husband) that everything goes into high gear today…Insanity in the mornings (second Craigslist boxed set since we wore out the first set), healthy eating all day, walking in the evenings, and alcoholic beverages only for special occasions.  It’s only 8:03a.m., but so far I haven’t fallen off the wagon.  I have accepted yet another great challenge geared toward self(ish)-improvement.  Insanity will work on the outside, but diet has to be the focus to feel better on the inside.

I’m prepared to dress in pin-up fashion this Friday evening for the Art Car Ball.  Even if it’s only in my head, I want to feel better about my body from the inside out…and then I’m going to walk out the door with the confidence of someone who doesn’t judge (see yesterday’s post).

I’m also considering whether or not to provide myself some extrinsic motivation…thinking of registering for a half-marathon in some fun place – maybe San Diego?…Pretty sure hott husband wouldn’t mind a surf weekend soon 🙂

No gimmicks, packaged foods, or calorie counting…just good ol’ fashioned common sense and junk-food snubbing.  Here goes…

FB_20150413_09_40_18_Saved_Picture

 

Accepted (ABC Challenge)

Posted on Updated on

The challenge said “A to Z”, doesn’t sound so hard to me.

Twenty-six days of blogging – I blog twenty-six times a day in my head.  But maybe – maybe – that’s the challenge…ONLY twenty-six things to blog about.

I read the challenge, contemplated, and accepted.

Cocky.  Sometimes I pretend I’m confident.

Acceptance means commitment.  Acceptance means challenge.  Acceptance means a schedule.  Acceptance means I could fail.

I accepted a new job last week (haven’t told my boss yet).  But I’ve committed.  I’ve been challenged.  I now have a schedule.  And I could fail.

So just as I accepted this A-Z poetry/blog challenge, I accepted a job that will make me have to plan every day again, deal with something new every day again, and put a huge part of myself out there for judgment, scrutiny, and personal and professional evaluation every day again.

But that’s what I’ve missed.  So here I am – Challenge Accepted.

 

Stage Crew Credits

Posted on Updated on

Being a step-mom is weird.  It’s nothing you can learn about from anybody else.   And I hate the term “Step-Mom” for all the reasons one would expect – including the only two adjectives I’ve ever heard preceding it…evil and wicked.  There are no (or if there are, I can’t think of them) popular examples of step-moms who are loved, appreciated, or revered.  There’s even a show devoted to stepmothers who murder their families.  As if.

I blame Disney.

Stepmother-cinderella-9889059-110-161

For the first year playing this role, I felt like a new mom – The boys’ bio-mom was scarce at best…I was Mom #1, and unmarried, so without the “Step-Mother” label.  It was great.

This past year, the ex-wife has re-emerged as Mom #1.5, and I have had to learn to play the role of Mom #1.5, and be introduced and known as Step-Mom.  It’s much harder.  They say “Step-mom” but it feels like “Step aside…we’ve got this”.

 

I started dating my dream guy when my daughter was 16.  Small-child-parenting days were over.  When she and I were on speaking terms, it was about jobs, colleges, ACTs, careers.  My dream guy had eight and six year-old boys.  It was never a decision – I never contemplated NOT being with him.  I would have taken him von Trapp style if that’s how he showed up.

But any of you who have been here know that it’s nothing like raising the first, biological one.  Older, wiser, less self-absorbed, and much MUCH more worried about screwing someone else’s kids up than your own.

So many things are different/harder with steps, boys, siblings.

Weekend before last, we had two events Friday night, two lacrosse practices, two lacrosse games, a birthday party, junior high solo and ensemble, and a high school musical on Saturday.  Then another birthday party, team photos, a grown-up painting party, and Scouts on Sunday.  I was joking with my hott husband (and the ex) that We Did It!…relieved that we hadn’t left any kids behind, hadn’t missed or forgotten anything (that we know of ;-/), and that was all with my parents and her sister in town.  Then I realized that I did nothing of logistical value.  I was merely the calendar keeper…I made sure everybody knew where everybody was supposed to be.  My hot husband did all of the transporting or arranging of transportation for everything.  He physically drove everyone everywhere they were supposed to be, and was the parent of record for both kids at each and every event.  I felt like I needed to take my “WE Did It!” back and apologize for not pitching in.

I felt bad – until I remembered these seemingly small but critical things (to which few people give/get credit):

Everyone had home-cooked meals, the little athletes and big coach had chilled water bottles, the birthday friends had wrapped gifts, everyone sported clean uniforms and nicely pressed band gear, we had reserved seating at the musical, and everyone slept on clean sheets.  I finally know what the home fires are and what it means to keep them burning.

Thankfully, I have a wonderful husband who praises every little thing I do to contribute, but I’m sure there are many who don’t, and THAT makes me understand why second marriages run an even higher risk of divorce than firsts.  I work harder raising your two kids than I did my own but I’ll never earn the endearing title that implies unconditional appreciation – “Just Plain Mom”.

It’s his turn to be the actor on the stage who everyone knows his name, and it’s my time to work backstage to make sure he has his props and sets and zipper up to deliver the thrills without a hitch.  It’s a role I’ve not only made peace with but become fond of, and it’s a love language I didn’t even know I had until I became Step-Mom.

stage_crew_t_shirts-r52346549989a478bb42c5b7a8d2a3b5f_8nhmk_512

 

P.S. –  As I’m writing this, I’m picturing my hott husband driving around in an eighteen-wheeler (which he does not), with dark glasses and Ronnie Milsap hair singing,

“She keeps the home fires burning, While I’m out earning a living in a world that’s known for its pouring rain…
She keeps the home fires burning, Ooh and it’s her warm loving that keeps me returning again and again.”

🙂