cleaning

Wah, wah, wah. (ABC Challenge)

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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.)

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

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Victoria Days (ABC Challenge)

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I spent 13 years living in Victoria, Texas, after spending ages 5-21 living in a small town just 25 miles away.  Previous to my life in that area, I lived in Kennedale, Burnet (at a boys’ home), and La Porte (another boys’ home) – all in Texas.  For brief smidgens of time in early adult-hood, I lived in Plano, Dallas, Vanderbilt, and Bay City.

I ran in various circles in Victoria – from teachers to piano students to church small groups to CAbi parties to volleyball moms to band gigs.  Through all of that, I probably had something to do with almost everyone in town at some point.  During my later years there, I came to the hard realization that there was no way I was going to be able to keep up with the lifestyle of my peers, and I found myself resenting where my circles had led (too much wine and spending too much money) and regretting the expectations my daughter had established growing up around friends with money and entitlement.  She was about to fall off the edge in various ways, and in an attempt to save us both, I moved us here.

I moved to our current city – a suburb of Houston – almost four years ago, and – other than the town where I lived most of my childhood – never had I felt more at home.  My husband has been here and involved for more than 13 years, and I do a lot of things with a lot of wonderful people here.  Yet, it seems like when I least expect it, my Victoria friends show up in the most extraordinary ways.

I posted an “offer” on Facebook to take old books off anyone’s hands – I need to fill my shelves with great books that freshmen will embrace.  I expected my current local acquaintances to chime in and help.  Not a peep.  Over ten offers from old Victoria friends in less than an hour though.  One offered to hook me up with hundreds of books leftover from the Victoria Public Library purge.  One offered me whatever I wanted from her school library purge.  One drove an hour to meet me to bring me a box of books (and drink mimosas).  And at least four others have offered to drop boxes of books off with my daughter for transport to me here. (One of hott husband’s H-town friends also offered books…I don’t want to neglect to mention her 🙂

I know it seems like a small, impersonal thing (books), but it puts a lump in my throat to think about it and feel the outpouring of support these folks show each other – and even me.  I miss that.  People in Victoria rally together.  People in Victoria don’t do anything alone.  People in Victoria are some of the most generous people I’ve ever known, and though I once felt like something of an outsider by the inherent “elitism”, I know they balance all of that out with their philanthropy, and then some.  It’s a little bit like a cult, but they didn’t disfellowship me even when I moved away and haven’t talked to them in years, and even though I never had to resources to help them in the same way they helped me.

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Our band’s second album.  Didn’t feel the nostalgia it refers to at the time.  And it might not have been my best of times, but they are truly the best of people

Social media helps maintain bonds that otherwise would fade away with time.  I know I gripe about Facebook, but I know in my heart that if I moved to Botswana and was craving Whataburger and one of them found out, somebody would raise enough money to build a Whataburger in my village.  I may not be one of them anymore, but I want to return the love and goodwill any way I can, and I will be eternally grateful for the way our lives intersected while they did.

Updates (ABC Challenge)

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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!

Magazine Perfect (ABC Challenge)

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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