Today ChoirFriend, her mom, and I spent the morning at the hospital. ChoirFriend found the dreaded lump last week, and we were optimistic that the visit would be procedural in nature and relatively quick.
We were wrong.
The mammogram results were "bad" enough that ChoirFriend was immediately shuttled to the ultrasound room. There, CFMom and I watched the monitor as an ugly, black splotch appeared. The doctor came in, and told us that the lump presented itself like cancer. Yes, there is some overlap with a benign fibrous growth, and we wouldn't know for sure until the biopsy tests were returned, but if he was to make a guess he'd guess cancer.
The biopsy is tomorrow at 1:30. Please pray for healing, and peace through this tumultuous process.
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
Sunday, September 26, 2010
Stress
Third time around. I see the cycle.
Law school always starts off well enough. And slowly it builds. Until you reach the point where you are treading water all week - scrambling to get assignments done minutes before class, rushing off to complete deadlines, consistently dreading the sound of the alarm clock in the morning. You think, I just need to make it to the weekend and all will be better.
But alas, all is not better! I did some careful planning Friday night. I had six hours of work to do over the weekend; I calculated I would do three hours on Saturday and three on Sunday. I also needed to get my laundry done.
It is 11:32 p.m. My laundry is not done, and I have done five hours of work, but only gotten half of my list done.
In my defense, a funny thing happened Friday night. At 2 a.m. I was in a half-sleep as I heard Mocha whining, and my husband telling her to just get on the bed. (She needs a lot of affirmation, so she whines until you say ten times it's OK for her to jump on the bed). The next morning, around 8 a.m., husband goes to the basement and realizes what all the fuss was about - Mocha had heard something was terribly wrong and was trying to inform us that the water softener freaked out and blew a water line, so water was spraying all over the basement.
So Husband cuts the water to the house until he figures out how to reattach the line. When he gets everything flowing again, he realizes that the washing machine has crud in it, so we run it empty twice in an effort to rid ourselves of the sludge. We both do a couple of loads.
But, when I put in my load of nice work clothes, what happens? Oh yes. Sludge. All. Over. I didn't cry... but I wanted to.
In the end, I ran the load again, which helped a little, and shook things out before throwing them in the dryer, which helped a little more. By the time things came out of the dryer, they were overall alright. But this put a definite damper on laundry this weekend.
Regarding my list of work, well - that is a whole other story. Has to do with my OCD tendencies that everything be perfect. I deal with overwhelming situations by working slower than normal, making sure each step is perfect. If I could limit this OCD to my work product, that would be one thing... but I may have had a slight "discussion" with Husband about leaving the butter dish out on the kitchen counter. (I mean, who can work in an environment of such conditions? Butter dishes, just lying around?)
What is the solution to the cycle? Perhaps reflection through blogging. In past years, I tend to go off the deep end, cry a lot, indulge in over-eating, over-drinking and other excess, and wallow in my terrible, stressful life. I have high hopes that this year will be different.
The last point to this really long blog? Daughter came home today. She was about the happiest, most joyful person EVER. Her dinner prayer was basically sung: "THANK YOU FOR SEEING MY BROTHER TODAY, FOR BEING HOME TODAY, I MISSED MY MOM AND BROTHER, I LOVE THEM, AND MOCHA...AMEN!!!" Yes, even my stress is no match for that kind of dinner prayer. Good work daughter.
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Law school always starts off well enough. And slowly it builds. Until you reach the point where you are treading water all week - scrambling to get assignments done minutes before class, rushing off to complete deadlines, consistently dreading the sound of the alarm clock in the morning. You think, I just need to make it to the weekend and all will be better.
But alas, all is not better! I did some careful planning Friday night. I had six hours of work to do over the weekend; I calculated I would do three hours on Saturday and three on Sunday. I also needed to get my laundry done.
It is 11:32 p.m. My laundry is not done, and I have done five hours of work, but only gotten half of my list done.
In my defense, a funny thing happened Friday night. At 2 a.m. I was in a half-sleep as I heard Mocha whining, and my husband telling her to just get on the bed. (She needs a lot of affirmation, so she whines until you say ten times it's OK for her to jump on the bed). The next morning, around 8 a.m., husband goes to the basement and realizes what all the fuss was about - Mocha had heard something was terribly wrong and was trying to inform us that the water softener freaked out and blew a water line, so water was spraying all over the basement.
So Husband cuts the water to the house until he figures out how to reattach the line. When he gets everything flowing again, he realizes that the washing machine has crud in it, so we run it empty twice in an effort to rid ourselves of the sludge. We both do a couple of loads.
But, when I put in my load of nice work clothes, what happens? Oh yes. Sludge. All. Over. I didn't cry... but I wanted to.
In the end, I ran the load again, which helped a little, and shook things out before throwing them in the dryer, which helped a little more. By the time things came out of the dryer, they were overall alright. But this put a definite damper on laundry this weekend.
Regarding my list of work, well - that is a whole other story. Has to do with my OCD tendencies that everything be perfect. I deal with overwhelming situations by working slower than normal, making sure each step is perfect. If I could limit this OCD to my work product, that would be one thing... but I may have had a slight "discussion" with Husband about leaving the butter dish out on the kitchen counter. (I mean, who can work in an environment of such conditions? Butter dishes, just lying around?)
What is the solution to the cycle? Perhaps reflection through blogging. In past years, I tend to go off the deep end, cry a lot, indulge in over-eating, over-drinking and other excess, and wallow in my terrible, stressful life. I have high hopes that this year will be different.
The last point to this really long blog? Daughter came home today. She was about the happiest, most joyful person EVER. Her dinner prayer was basically sung: "THANK YOU FOR SEEING MY BROTHER TODAY, FOR BEING HOME TODAY, I MISSED MY MOM AND BROTHER, I LOVE THEM, AND MOCHA...AMEN!!!" Yes, even my stress is no match for that kind of dinner prayer. Good work daughter.
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Wedding Bells!
Saturday marked DualDegree's wedding. DualDegree was an original law school study group member, but left us this year to put in his time for the MBA portion of his dual degree. We miss him!
The study group enjoyed celebrating his nuptials. THH and Casanova were groomsmen. LegallyBlond, LawLady and I were the cheering section. Spouses and significant others were there, and even the Teenager came along for the fun! Teenager was impressed with my smooth dancing moves, and whipped out a few spicy moves himself - he does a great Michael Jackson Thriller claw.
Congrats to Mr. and Mrs. DualDegree. Build your marriage upon The Rock!
The study group enjoyed celebrating his nuptials. THH and Casanova were groomsmen. LegallyBlond, LawLady and I were the cheering section. Spouses and significant others were there, and even the Teenager came along for the fun! Teenager was impressed with my smooth dancing moves, and whipped out a few spicy moves himself - he does a great Michael Jackson Thriller claw.
Congrats to Mr. and Mrs. DualDegree. Build your marriage upon The Rock!
Friday, September 24, 2010
Running Aces Pasta!
No deep thoughts tonight. Daughter went to stay with her sister for the weekend. Teenager is still in college. So Husband and I are on our own! We went to Running Aces for the buffet, and we were impressed with the setup: pasta bar, Asian bar, gyro/Greek bar, salad bar and dessert bar. The first three are stations where they make the food in front of you. Yum! We are now home, warm and cozy. Good night.
Thursday, September 23, 2010
Sex Ed & Daughter
Thursday was my evening to be home by 5 p.m. I was home at 6:15 p.m. I really really really wanted to sneak off to watch the volleyball game tonight. Instead, I followed my Quest 10 plan and stayed home.
And good thing, because tonight, Daughter asked about being pregnant. She was concerned that she was, or might be, pregnant. Being an ex-high school sex ed teacher, I remained calm. We went through some vocabulary, and besides repeatedly substituting "peanut" for the male anatomy, I think she understood the general idea. A google image search provides some helpful exhibits. Husband was a little concerned that our internet cookies now show us searching sex sites, but there are surprisingly many educational (interpret: non-porn) websites and images out there.
When I asked her if she had encountered any, er, peanuts lately, she said no, so I'm pretty sure we don't have to worry about a nine-month surprise.
I hope the Teenager is keeping his peanut in his pants...
And good thing, because tonight, Daughter asked about being pregnant. She was concerned that she was, or might be, pregnant. Being an ex-high school sex ed teacher, I remained calm. We went through some vocabulary, and besides repeatedly substituting "peanut" for the male anatomy, I think she understood the general idea. A google image search provides some helpful exhibits. Husband was a little concerned that our internet cookies now show us searching sex sites, but there are surprisingly many educational (interpret: non-porn) websites and images out there.
When I asked her if she had encountered any, er, peanuts lately, she said no, so I'm pretty sure we don't have to worry about a nine-month surprise.
I hope the Teenager is keeping his peanut in his pants...
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
The Morning After-After
Today was a GREAT daughter day! Your prayers are working. I was half awake on the couch, waiting for the bus to come. She brought me her planner to sign. I yelled sleepily for her to bring her moisturizing spray (for her psoriasis), and gave a start when she handed it to me immediately - she was one step ahead of me this morning! She then asked me, in sentence form, to please clip her hearing aids to her shirt. I just about fell off the couch.
She was a lovely, independent young woman today. And just like that, I am loving, joyful and encouraged!
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She was a lovely, independent young woman today. And just like that, I am loving, joyful and encouraged!
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Tuesday, September 21, 2010
The Morning After
This morning Daughter and I were able to share some good moments while we waited for the bus. Based on how I was feeling last night, this was a miracle.
Daughter is having a hard time adjusting to the Teenager's absence, and it manifests itself in negative behaviors. She is now afraid of the dark and storms, and lies awake at night as a result. Her physical exhaustion snowballs into even more Daughter Drama. Daughter's stubborn streak has become more apparent, and she is regularly testing boundaries.
In some ways, it's like the first month she moved in with us. Our fights were legendary. There was the time I wouldn't let her get a movie from the grocery store, so she sat down in the middle of the aisle in protest. And I left her there. (She wasn't expecting that one). There was the time she tried to run away from me when I insisted I was going to brush her hair. She tried to evade me by running around the kitchen island. I was faster. Or the time she refused to brush her teeth with regular toothpaste. So I brushed them for her.
But it has gotten much harder. When Daughter was eleven and we clashed over movies, the parent-child role was clear. Now, when Daughter is sixteen and we clash, I am balancing my parent role with Daughter's need for more decision-making control in her life. And that is hard for me. At what point does Daughter get to make her own decisions about what she wants to do? Does it matter that Daughter might make decisions that will socially alienate people? Most children are given decision making control at the point where they are rationally able to make good decisions. Does it matter that Daughter's decision making process will always be different from my own?
Parenting Daughter is so hard. Right now, it's a job riddled with frustration, guilt and discouragement, caused in part by Daughter's limitations but mostly due to my own lack of patience.
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Daughter is having a hard time adjusting to the Teenager's absence, and it manifests itself in negative behaviors. She is now afraid of the dark and storms, and lies awake at night as a result. Her physical exhaustion snowballs into even more Daughter Drama. Daughter's stubborn streak has become more apparent, and she is regularly testing boundaries.
In some ways, it's like the first month she moved in with us. Our fights were legendary. There was the time I wouldn't let her get a movie from the grocery store, so she sat down in the middle of the aisle in protest. And I left her there. (She wasn't expecting that one). There was the time she tried to run away from me when I insisted I was going to brush her hair. She tried to evade me by running around the kitchen island. I was faster. Or the time she refused to brush her teeth with regular toothpaste. So I brushed them for her.
But it has gotten much harder. When Daughter was eleven and we clashed over movies, the parent-child role was clear. Now, when Daughter is sixteen and we clash, I am balancing my parent role with Daughter's need for more decision-making control in her life. And that is hard for me. At what point does Daughter get to make her own decisions about what she wants to do? Does it matter that Daughter might make decisions that will socially alienate people? Most children are given decision making control at the point where they are rationally able to make good decisions. Does it matter that Daughter's decision making process will always be different from my own?
Parenting Daughter is so hard. Right now, it's a job riddled with frustration, guilt and discouragement, caused in part by Daughter's limitations but mostly due to my own lack of patience.
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Monday, September 20, 2010
Daughter - 1 Hearing Aids - 0
I am frustrated.
Daughter began wearing hearing aids a few years ago. The improvement in her hearing has been amazing! In late June or early July, she lost an ear mold. So she didn't have to wear her hearing aids for the rest of the summer.
At the doctor's office a few weeks ago, Daughter gasped when she heard me say she was getting new hearing aids. She apparently thought she was through with hearing aids forever. Oh dear.
She went through the hearing check, the doctor made new molds for her ears, and today we went and picked them up. While the assistant and I were fitting the molds in her ears and measuring the fit, Daughter was being a real pill. She put her hands over her ears, she made grumpy noises when we touched her ears, and she would angrily flip her hair back around her face when we moved it to put the hearing aids in. When the assistant tried to talk to her, she glowered and pouted.
Annoyance #1: I said to Daughter, stop being rude. The assistant says, "Oh, It's OK, she can be rude to me." I give her a look and said, "Would it be OK if your 16-year-old daughter was rude to someone?" She said, "Oh. No."
So I took my snotty, rude daughter out of the hearing aid office. She complained about it being too loud, but the audiologist assured me it wasn't. When the assistant asked, "Are they uncomfortable?" (Objection. Leading the witness) Daughter nodded her head pathetically. I rolled my eyes and said, I'm sure she just needs to get used to them again.
WHY DOES THE WORLD THINK THAT KIDS WITH DOWN SYNDROME ARE INCAPABLE OF MANIPULATION?
I call Husband in the car, and we both tell Daughter the importance of wearing her hearing aids all day. I get off the phone with Husband and she starts sobbing. Random person off the street would say, "Oh, look at that poor girl! Her mother must be abusing her by making her wear those painfully loud hearing aids!"
I say, "She's a normal teenager girl who has to wear hearing aids. She's like a teenage girl who just got a bad haircut. DO NOT ENCOURAGE HER MANIPULATION."
Annoyance #2: Written in Daughter's planner from school today "[Daughter] took off her aids, she said they were bothering her. I am sure not wearing to wearing them will take some time getting used to. She wore them about 2 hr total. She said the [sic] were to [sic] loud." [Smiley Face] ***
Well, Daughter, you won this round. I am irrationally upset about the whole situation. I am frustrated that she took them out after Husband and I told her to wear them all day. I am frustrated by the effectiveness of her teenage manipulation. I am frustrated because OF COURSE I don't want to traumatize her by making her wear hearing aids but they make such a significant difference in her hearing, speech and singing that she really DOES need to use them! I am most frustrated because IT IS VIRTUALLY IMPOSSIBLE TO CONVINCE HER THAT SHE DOESN'T HEAR, SPEAK, OR SING WELL WITHOUT THEM! She lacks the awareness to understand it!
There is no way to reason with Daughter. She does not believe there is any reason to wear them. So the only way she will wear them is by A) constant nagging, B) bribes, C) threat of punishment or D) she won't wear them.
Sigh. In this situation, we're all losers.
***I am not mad at the teacher. Based on the limited information she had, she made a good decision.
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Daughter began wearing hearing aids a few years ago. The improvement in her hearing has been amazing! In late June or early July, she lost an ear mold. So she didn't have to wear her hearing aids for the rest of the summer.
At the doctor's office a few weeks ago, Daughter gasped when she heard me say she was getting new hearing aids. She apparently thought she was through with hearing aids forever. Oh dear.
She went through the hearing check, the doctor made new molds for her ears, and today we went and picked them up. While the assistant and I were fitting the molds in her ears and measuring the fit, Daughter was being a real pill. She put her hands over her ears, she made grumpy noises when we touched her ears, and she would angrily flip her hair back around her face when we moved it to put the hearing aids in. When the assistant tried to talk to her, she glowered and pouted.
Annoyance #1: I said to Daughter, stop being rude. The assistant says, "Oh, It's OK, she can be rude to me." I give her a look and said, "Would it be OK if your 16-year-old daughter was rude to someone?" She said, "Oh. No."
So I took my snotty, rude daughter out of the hearing aid office. She complained about it being too loud, but the audiologist assured me it wasn't. When the assistant asked, "Are they uncomfortable?" (Objection. Leading the witness) Daughter nodded her head pathetically. I rolled my eyes and said, I'm sure she just needs to get used to them again.
WHY DOES THE WORLD THINK THAT KIDS WITH DOWN SYNDROME ARE INCAPABLE OF MANIPULATION?
I call Husband in the car, and we both tell Daughter the importance of wearing her hearing aids all day. I get off the phone with Husband and she starts sobbing. Random person off the street would say, "Oh, look at that poor girl! Her mother must be abusing her by making her wear those painfully loud hearing aids!"
I say, "She's a normal teenager girl who has to wear hearing aids. She's like a teenage girl who just got a bad haircut. DO NOT ENCOURAGE HER MANIPULATION."
Annoyance #2: Written in Daughter's planner from school today "[Daughter] took off her aids, she said they were bothering her. I am sure not wearing to wearing them will take some time getting used to. She wore them about 2 hr total. She said the [sic] were to [sic] loud." [Smiley Face] ***
Well, Daughter, you won this round. I am irrationally upset about the whole situation. I am frustrated that she took them out after Husband and I told her to wear them all day. I am frustrated by the effectiveness of her teenage manipulation. I am frustrated because OF COURSE I don't want to traumatize her by making her wear hearing aids but they make such a significant difference in her hearing, speech and singing that she really DOES need to use them! I am most frustrated because IT IS VIRTUALLY IMPOSSIBLE TO CONVINCE HER THAT SHE DOESN'T HEAR, SPEAK, OR SING WELL WITHOUT THEM! She lacks the awareness to understand it!
There is no way to reason with Daughter. She does not believe there is any reason to wear them. So the only way she will wear them is by A) constant nagging, B) bribes, C) threat of punishment or D) she won't wear them.
Sigh. In this situation, we're all losers.
***I am not mad at the teacher. Based on the limited information she had, she made a good decision.
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Sunday, September 19, 2010
SweetNiece
Isn't she adorable? Congratulations to brother FarmerBoy and sister-in-law SweetTalker! As FamousDiva says, You don't even have to lie when you say she's the cutest baby you've ever seen!
Quest #10: Am I Progressing or Regressing?
Case 1: I went to the Princess Party at SuperDuper's home today. I drove a total of five hours on Saturday night to visit SweetNiece, who entered the world mid-day Friday. I failed Quest #10 when I didn't get home by 5 p.m. today: After Husband and the Teenager went to a Twins game, Teenager wanted to make a Target run.
Argument for Regressing: I took a weekend without anything planned, and jam-packed it full of things. I feel tired because I try to do too much. I didn't say no to one thing this weekend in the name of personal sanity.
Argument for Progressing: The whole point of clearing my schedule was NOT to make time for laundry, a pristine home, or home-manicures, but to make time for the important things! Spending time with my first niece and her proud parents, my cousin and her family, and my kid... those are high-ranking priorities!
Decision: While only time will tell, right now I am happy with how I spent my time. It is ironic that the weekend I try and relax, three really important things pop up. In my defense, it WAS an open, unplanned weekend. I spent Friday night and most of the day Saturday at home. And truly, how could one say No to any of those events? Would I have been happier doing my laundry than hanging out with SweetNiece, SuperDuper & Daughter, or the Teenager?
Case 2: Daughter and I drove from the Princess Party to pick up Husband and Teenager at 4:30 p.m. and then stopped at Target. I hate going shopping with the Teenager, because he is so random! I shop with a list. I have a purpose. He believes in wandering the aisles, until he sees something that reminds him of what he needs. I didn't want his last memory of me to be one where I am storming around the store with my shopping cart, so I decided we should go to dinner. As a result, we got home at 7:30 p.m.
Argument for Regressing: I'm not letting go of the Teenager. When he shares his plans with us, I find I still advise him like he is a dependent. I instruct more than discuss. We paid for everything today, instead of allowing him the opportunity to show us his financial independence. Basically, we functionally treated him like a dependent child.
Argument for Progressing: I am aware of the delicate balance that must be struck. On one hand, you want the Teenager to know we are always here for him - as his immediate family, we are there to support him when life is hard. But on the other, the Teenager needs to function as his own person. I realize how easy it would be for the three of us (Teenager, Husband and I) to remain in the financial and emotional patterns of high school. It seems cruel to begin pulling away the constant financial and emotional support. But, I realized today that he is ready for financial and emotional independence. Not financial and emotional abandonment! Just space and freedom to make his own financial decisions, and to care for his own well-being, without outside influence.
Decision: It took me 19 days to have my breakthrough moment with the Teenager. My "regressive" actions today spurred a heart-to-heart with Teenager that helped me realize my new role as a parent-sister. I did regress today, but I ended the day on a progressive note.
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Argument for Regressing: I took a weekend without anything planned, and jam-packed it full of things. I feel tired because I try to do too much. I didn't say no to one thing this weekend in the name of personal sanity.
Argument for Progressing: The whole point of clearing my schedule was NOT to make time for laundry, a pristine home, or home-manicures, but to make time for the important things! Spending time with my first niece and her proud parents, my cousin and her family, and my kid... those are high-ranking priorities!
Decision: While only time will tell, right now I am happy with how I spent my time. It is ironic that the weekend I try and relax, three really important things pop up. In my defense, it WAS an open, unplanned weekend. I spent Friday night and most of the day Saturday at home. And truly, how could one say No to any of those events? Would I have been happier doing my laundry than hanging out with SweetNiece, SuperDuper & Daughter, or the Teenager?
Case 2: Daughter and I drove from the Princess Party to pick up Husband and Teenager at 4:30 p.m. and then stopped at Target. I hate going shopping with the Teenager, because he is so random! I shop with a list. I have a purpose. He believes in wandering the aisles, until he sees something that reminds him of what he needs. I didn't want his last memory of me to be one where I am storming around the store with my shopping cart, so I decided we should go to dinner. As a result, we got home at 7:30 p.m.
Argument for Regressing: I'm not letting go of the Teenager. When he shares his plans with us, I find I still advise him like he is a dependent. I instruct more than discuss. We paid for everything today, instead of allowing him the opportunity to show us his financial independence. Basically, we functionally treated him like a dependent child.
Argument for Progressing: I am aware of the delicate balance that must be struck. On one hand, you want the Teenager to know we are always here for him - as his immediate family, we are there to support him when life is hard. But on the other, the Teenager needs to function as his own person. I realize how easy it would be for the three of us (Teenager, Husband and I) to remain in the financial and emotional patterns of high school. It seems cruel to begin pulling away the constant financial and emotional support. But, I realized today that he is ready for financial and emotional independence. Not financial and emotional abandonment! Just space and freedom to make his own financial decisions, and to care for his own well-being, without outside influence.
Decision: It took me 19 days to have my breakthrough moment with the Teenager. My "regressive" actions today spurred a heart-to-heart with Teenager that helped me realize my new role as a parent-sister. I did regress today, but I ended the day on a progressive note.
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Thursday, September 16, 2010
Quest #10: Temptation Lurks
Dinner with SuperSaver and SuperDuper.We laughed off about 200 calories tonight - good for the soul! But a quest-wrecker appeared: SuperDuper's eldest daughter is having her four-year-old birthday party on Sunday afternoon at 2 p.m. I want to go. I know I really can't... unless my brother and sister-in-law have their baby this weekend and we are on our way home from visiting them... and even then, SuperDuper's home isn't exactly on the way.
Let us review. Today I was on the verge of crazy. I left the house at 6:30 (or tried to, I dropped daughter off at 6:40). I worked from 9 a.m. to noon. I spent an hour at the law library for work. I had tax from 1:30-3:30. I grabbed lunch during break, and made a phone call for work. After class, I went back to the law library for work, then walked to the office and ran some errends. I went to get my hair cut. My hair cut went 30 minutes past my time slot, so I was 30 minutes late to dinner. I got home at 9 p.m. I spent a lot of time talking on the phone while speedwalking places, and felt quite stressed.
And yet, what kind of terrible ogre doesn't attend a fabulous four-year-old's princess party? (The same ogre that doesn't attend home volleyball games. Or watch movies with sister AngelOwner). SuperDuper, a regular reader, understands why I can't come, and honestly, I haven't even been invited - I just assume I can go!
How sick is that? I feel guilty about not being able to do something that nobody expects me to go to, or even asked me to go to. Does it comes from a desire to show SuperDuper how much I love her and her daughter? More likely, it comes (at least partially) from a selfish desire that SuperDuper see what a good friend I am. I suspect I often feel badly not because I performed below anyone's expectations, but because I failed to exceed them. And that strain of self-inflicted harm must stop NOW!
Let us review. Today I was on the verge of crazy. I left the house at 6:30 (or tried to, I dropped daughter off at 6:40). I worked from 9 a.m. to noon. I spent an hour at the law library for work. I had tax from 1:30-3:30. I grabbed lunch during break, and made a phone call for work. After class, I went back to the law library for work, then walked to the office and ran some errends. I went to get my hair cut. My hair cut went 30 minutes past my time slot, so I was 30 minutes late to dinner. I got home at 9 p.m. I spent a lot of time talking on the phone while speedwalking places, and felt quite stressed.
And yet, what kind of terrible ogre doesn't attend a fabulous four-year-old's princess party? (The same ogre that doesn't attend home volleyball games. Or watch movies with sister AngelOwner). SuperDuper, a regular reader, understands why I can't come, and honestly, I haven't even been invited - I just assume I can go!
How sick is that? I feel guilty about not being able to do something that nobody expects me to go to, or even asked me to go to. Does it comes from a desire to show SuperDuper how much I love her and her daughter? More likely, it comes (at least partially) from a selfish desire that SuperDuper see what a good friend I am. I suspect I often feel badly not because I performed below anyone's expectations, but because I failed to exceed them. And that strain of self-inflicted harm must stop NOW!
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
Quest #10: Simplify My Calendar
I feel a little frazzled. It's nothing to worry about - yet.
The signs of being overbooked began this week. I am regularly attending class unprepared. I have an inability to schedule events unless the other person guesses a time that is open on my calendar. I am continually "remembering" things that are relatively important. I am having to back out of events I initiate because I double-book myself.
A few years ago I bought "Simplify Your Life" by Marcia Ramsland. Marcia suggested that, from Monday through Thursday, plan to be home two evenings. The same for Friday through Sunday. Therefore, three nights per week should be spent at home.
A look at my past seven days reveals I am one evening short. There was a fantasy football draft, Dairy Queen run with ChoirFriend, date night with Husband, and night classes. Looking ahead, I already have my four evenings scheduled: Thursday dinner with SuperSaver and SuperDuper, date night with Husband on Saturday night, and night class on Monday and Tuesday night. My quest is to say NO to any other evening activity that is offered. I am always tempted to cheat on what time "evening" begins, so...
Quest 10: To be home by 5 p.m. three of the next seven days.
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The signs of being overbooked began this week. I am regularly attending class unprepared. I have an inability to schedule events unless the other person guesses a time that is open on my calendar. I am continually "remembering" things that are relatively important. I am having to back out of events I initiate because I double-book myself.
A few years ago I bought "Simplify Your Life" by Marcia Ramsland. Marcia suggested that, from Monday through Thursday, plan to be home two evenings. The same for Friday through Sunday. Therefore, three nights per week should be spent at home.
A look at my past seven days reveals I am one evening short. There was a fantasy football draft, Dairy Queen run with ChoirFriend, date night with Husband, and night classes. Looking ahead, I already have my four evenings scheduled: Thursday dinner with SuperSaver and SuperDuper, date night with Husband on Saturday night, and night class on Monday and Tuesday night. My quest is to say NO to any other evening activity that is offered. I am always tempted to cheat on what time "evening" begins, so...
Quest 10: To be home by 5 p.m. three of the next seven days.
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Things I Do When I Should Be Sleeping
1. Reading blogs: my new favorite is Hyperbole and a Half.
2. Giving Mocha a doggy-IQ test. She is a genius! She had some problems with the treat under the cup, but that was it. You should have seen the paw action when I put the turkey under the couch! I'm such a proud parent!
3. Blogging about my genius dog.
2. Giving Mocha a doggy-IQ test. She is a genius! She had some problems with the treat under the cup, but that was it. You should have seen the paw action when I put the turkey under the couch! I'm such a proud parent!
3. Blogging about my genius dog.
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
A Day in the Life
Today was a bit busier than most!
Alarm went off at 5 a.m. Dropped Daughter off at her para's at 6 a.m. and drove to the cities. Journal meeting at 8 a.m. At work by 8:40 a.m. Worked hard until 1 p.m. Learned about Tax from 1:30-3:30. Attended a journal law lecture from 4-6 p.m. Trial Advocacy class from 6-9 p.m. Arrived home at 10 p.m. I ate a Buster Bar (c'mon, it was a long day!).
Alarm went off at 5 a.m. Dropped Daughter off at her para's at 6 a.m. and drove to the cities. Journal meeting at 8 a.m. At work by 8:40 a.m. Worked hard until 1 p.m. Learned about Tax from 1:30-3:30. Attended a journal law lecture from 4-6 p.m. Trial Advocacy class from 6-9 p.m. Arrived home at 10 p.m. I ate a Buster Bar (c'mon, it was a long day!).
Sunday, September 12, 2010
Three Kleenex Night
I still miss the Teenager.
Daughter and I have a funny game going on. She will be sad and look at me and say, "I miss brother!" And then I'll pretend to cry and wail, "I MISS HIM TOO!" And then she'll console me (in terms we have taught her all summer): "Don't cry mom. He'll visit. Thanksgiving, Christmas." It works well - she remains calm and reassures herself while I, er, PRETEND to freak out.
Tonight Husband and I told Teenager he should call or skype - for his sister's sake. It was fun to see the Teenager, but the connection wasn't great: we were talking on the phone while seeing him on skype. It was complicated and not a great situation for carrying on a conversation. Basically, we saw him enough to be really sad when we hung up, but failed to communicate anything meaningful.
After Daughter went to bed, Husband and I reveled in our sadness, watching sad country music videos on youtube. I had a good cry, and am now ready to face the week. I've decided, based on a general poll of people who have children, that I am allowed to text the Teenager. I want to ask him the names of his new friends so I can facebook stalk and google them, but I think that's crossing the line. Let me get back to you after another general poll...
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Daughter and I have a funny game going on. She will be sad and look at me and say, "I miss brother!" And then I'll pretend to cry and wail, "I MISS HIM TOO!" And then she'll console me (in terms we have taught her all summer): "Don't cry mom. He'll visit. Thanksgiving, Christmas." It works well - she remains calm and reassures herself while I, er, PRETEND to freak out.
Tonight Husband and I told Teenager he should call or skype - for his sister's sake. It was fun to see the Teenager, but the connection wasn't great: we were talking on the phone while seeing him on skype. It was complicated and not a great situation for carrying on a conversation. Basically, we saw him enough to be really sad when we hung up, but failed to communicate anything meaningful.
After Daughter went to bed, Husband and I reveled in our sadness, watching sad country music videos on youtube. I had a good cry, and am now ready to face the week. I've decided, based on a general poll of people who have children, that I am allowed to text the Teenager. I want to ask him the names of his new friends so I can facebook stalk and google them, but I think that's crossing the line. Let me get back to you after another general poll...
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Hoarders...
Husband and I began watching Hoarders on Netflix. He fresh off of a weekend at the auction, me having made no progress on the Scary Room. We both felt a little uncomfortable by some of the themes we heard.
"Hoarders think everything has emotional attachment..."
"Hoarders get worse with time..."
"Hoarders might obsessively search for hours for small things..."
We exchanged a few nervous glances as one episode featured a wife that buys things and a husband that hoards (that would be us, reversed). We began looking at the Scary Room, and husband's counterpart, The Shop, in a new light. I didn't have much time to dedicate to the Scary Room this weekend, but I did pick up the rest of the house for the first time this month, and threw a lot of stuff in an effort to ward off a hoarder's future. I recommend watching an episode or two - if you have a scary room, or a scary basement, you might also feel motivated to address it before it gets out of hand!
"Hoarders think everything has emotional attachment..."
"Hoarders get worse with time..."
"Hoarders might obsessively search for hours for small things..."
We exchanged a few nervous glances as one episode featured a wife that buys things and a husband that hoards (that would be us, reversed). We began looking at the Scary Room, and husband's counterpart, The Shop, in a new light. I didn't have much time to dedicate to the Scary Room this weekend, but I did pick up the rest of the house for the first time this month, and threw a lot of stuff in an effort to ward off a hoarder's future. I recommend watching an episode or two - if you have a scary room, or a scary basement, you might also feel motivated to address it before it gets out of hand!
Saturday, September 11, 2010
Volleyball Dragon
Today I was a spectator at a local volleyball tournament. I have developed relationships with many of the players and parents, but today I want to introduce you to a special girl, VolleyballDragon, or VBDragon for short.
VBDragon came into my life six years ago. As the new varsity coach, I invited incoming 7-9 graders to my summer camp, and only three showed up. She was one of them, a quiet seventh grader with natural athletic ability.
The next year, as an eighth grader, she was moved up to Varsity. Her passing skills were amazing. She wasn't quite tall enough to hit, so she set, played back row, and served. I remember encouraging her to develop her jump serve. It was almost unheard of at that time - nobody in the conference jump served. She wanted to hit, but her vertical needed to improve. I don't know how many times I told her to go home and jump rope!
VBDragon committed herself to becoming the best player she could be. She went to countless camps, played Junior Olympic Volleyball, and did summer league. I left the program, but always kept an eye on her, curious to see where God was taking this young lady.
At today's tournament, I was so proud of VBDRagon. She was a leader on the floor, helping her teammates. Her jump serve is vicious, and her outside attack amazing. I was jealous of her aggressive confidence: the deciding third game score was 16-16, with a 17 point cap and rally scoring, and she jump served like they had nothing to loose. When I asked her about it later, she said "I knew I could do it. They were going down!"
VBDragon, I am blessed to have you in my life! You remind me how much growth is possible when you are passionate and committed.
VBDragon came into my life six years ago. As the new varsity coach, I invited incoming 7-9 graders to my summer camp, and only three showed up. She was one of them, a quiet seventh grader with natural athletic ability.
The next year, as an eighth grader, she was moved up to Varsity. Her passing skills were amazing. She wasn't quite tall enough to hit, so she set, played back row, and served. I remember encouraging her to develop her jump serve. It was almost unheard of at that time - nobody in the conference jump served. She wanted to hit, but her vertical needed to improve. I don't know how many times I told her to go home and jump rope!
VBDragon committed herself to becoming the best player she could be. She went to countless camps, played Junior Olympic Volleyball, and did summer league. I left the program, but always kept an eye on her, curious to see where God was taking this young lady.
At today's tournament, I was so proud of VBDRagon. She was a leader on the floor, helping her teammates. Her jump serve is vicious, and her outside attack amazing. I was jealous of her aggressive confidence: the deciding third game score was 16-16, with a 17 point cap and rally scoring, and she jump served like they had nothing to loose. When I asked her about it later, she said "I knew I could do it. They were going down!"
VBDragon, I am blessed to have you in my life! You remind me how much growth is possible when you are passionate and committed.
Friday, September 10, 2010
On the fourth day...
On the fourth day, she gave in.
Today I texted the teenager. I just had to. I was driving along (stop judging me) and yes, if he hadn't been on the bus I would have called him. I have had no contact since Monday night. What I wanted was to kidnap him and take him home with me. What I did was have a nice text-chat while commuting to school (don't judge).
ChoirFriend's mom provided some excellent insight. When ChoirFriend told her I missed the teenager more than he missed me, she said "Fabulous!" When I looked confused, she added, "It's much better that way then the other way around."
Good point.
SuperDuper also had some kind words today, reminding me that he is doing what we raised him to do, and that we would be far more upset if he was 40 and still living at home. LawLady, LegallyBlond and Casanova provided support as well. Daughter's Wednesday-Friday para, Stitches, reassured my slightly guilty conscience that it was OK to text the teenager this morning.
Some extra-special encouragement came from PrayingMom, a friend who I don't see nearly enough. She sent me a special message today, and it meant a lot. It was such a surprise, totally unexpected, and very reassuring to know that people are praying and you have no idea. It inspired me to "pass along" the gift of encouragement to those in my life who I might not interact with regularly, but who God places on my heart to pray for. PrayingMom's note, that she thought of me and prayed for me (and that she read my blog!) was a total blessing to my day. Thanks PrayingMom!
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Today I texted the teenager. I just had to. I was driving along (stop judging me) and yes, if he hadn't been on the bus I would have called him. I have had no contact since Monday night. What I wanted was to kidnap him and take him home with me. What I did was have a nice text-chat while commuting to school (don't judge).
ChoirFriend's mom provided some excellent insight. When ChoirFriend told her I missed the teenager more than he missed me, she said "Fabulous!" When I looked confused, she added, "It's much better that way then the other way around."
Good point.
SuperDuper also had some kind words today, reminding me that he is doing what we raised him to do, and that we would be far more upset if he was 40 and still living at home. LawLady, LegallyBlond and Casanova provided support as well. Daughter's Wednesday-Friday para, Stitches, reassured my slightly guilty conscience that it was OK to text the teenager this morning.
Some extra-special encouragement came from PrayingMom, a friend who I don't see nearly enough. She sent me a special message today, and it meant a lot. It was such a surprise, totally unexpected, and very reassuring to know that people are praying and you have no idea. It inspired me to "pass along" the gift of encouragement to those in my life who I might not interact with regularly, but who God places on my heart to pray for. PrayingMom's note, that she thought of me and prayed for me (and that she read my blog!) was a total blessing to my day. Thanks PrayingMom!
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Breakfast Exploits
The bus comes for daughter around 7:30 a.m. For two years I would wake her up at 6 a.m. and then nag the entire time, "GO FAST! GO FAST!" Then the light bulb went off, and now I set her alarm for 5:30 a.m. and by the time she comes down at 6 a.m. we're all on the same, leisurely pace.
This morning at 6 a.m., there was no light on in the kitchen to signal daughter was awake and eating breakfast. I panicked and yelled, "Daughter! Where are you?"
"Right here Mama," she called from the kitchen.
I ran into the dark kitchen. She flipped on the light. "Where were you doing?" I asked.
"Playing." And after a few more questions I learned she had planned to eat breakfast by flashlight that morning.
One morning I walked by and her breakfast was a piece of toast, and 2 super-sized marshmallows. I should say, "attempted" breakfast because I nixed that idea immediately. Another day she was getting out the peanut butter so she could dip some of husband's trail mix into the peanut butter, to eat along with her toast. For her bag lunch one day she made herself a peanut butter and mustard sandwich. I was skeptical she would actually like it, and made her a half-sandwich and asked her to eat it. She did, and authentically liked it.
Her creativity is so wonderful, yet so... odd. Oh well - I was the child that ate mayonnaise sandwiches (until my parents put the kibosh on that...)
This morning at 6 a.m., there was no light on in the kitchen to signal daughter was awake and eating breakfast. I panicked and yelled, "Daughter! Where are you?"
"Right here Mama," she called from the kitchen.
I ran into the dark kitchen. She flipped on the light. "Where were you doing?" I asked.
"Playing." And after a few more questions I learned she had planned to eat breakfast by flashlight that morning.
One morning I walked by and her breakfast was a piece of toast, and 2 super-sized marshmallows. I should say, "attempted" breakfast because I nixed that idea immediately. Another day she was getting out the peanut butter so she could dip some of husband's trail mix into the peanut butter, to eat along with her toast. For her bag lunch one day she made herself a peanut butter and mustard sandwich. I was skeptical she would actually like it, and made her a half-sandwich and asked her to eat it. She did, and authentically liked it.
Her creativity is so wonderful, yet so... odd. Oh well - I was the child that ate mayonnaise sandwiches (until my parents put the kibosh on that...)
Thursday, September 9, 2010
Blue
"He looks blue."
"I'd say a brownish-gold."
"No, I mean he's depressed."
"Oh."
Pumba and Timon in the Lion King
Yeah, it's one of those days. It took me just short of 30 years to see the symptoms of sadness and mild depression in time to prevent a meltdown. A lot of it is sleep deprivation. Some of it is teenager-deprivation. And general exhaustion.
The result is that isolated feeling, where you're pretty sure "Nobody likes me, Everybody hates me." The little voice in your head goes into paranoia overdrive, and you feel like crying every time someone hits a vulnerable spot. Which, when you're blue, is like preventing water from hitting a hole in a sieve.
God-ronically (Get it? Instead of I-ronically?), I listed to a podcast this morning on the way to school about suffering, and how suffering is a way to minister and serve others, and NOT a free pass to go out and sin. Which is what I used to do when I felt sad. My idols of choice were alcohol and boys, to dull the real pain while enhancing the superficial feelings of being loved. It's a great recipe for disaster!
Or I would attempt to function "as usual," only to blow up in a rage or an explosion of tears. I might say horrible, hurtful things under the excuse that 'I was hurting.' Or my other favorite idol, food! Stuffing myself full of thousands of calories made me feel physically full when I was emotionally empty.
Today, I understood that the empty feelings and general pallor on everything around me was due to my perspective, not to reality. The solution was to go home and hang out with husband and take care of myself. Not to the bar, not to push myself to pretend everything was A-OK, and not to overeat (even though he made spaghetti, a favorite, I mustered some self-control). And even though I don't feel 100% yet, I am really thankful that I can see through the lie - these feelings won't last forever and lots of people in my life love me. In other words, through my sadness I have found a ray of hope.
Simba got through his depression and became the Lion King... I wonder what waits for me?
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"I'd say a brownish-gold."
"No, I mean he's depressed."
"Oh."
Pumba and Timon in the Lion King
Yeah, it's one of those days. It took me just short of 30 years to see the symptoms of sadness and mild depression in time to prevent a meltdown. A lot of it is sleep deprivation. Some of it is teenager-deprivation. And general exhaustion.
The result is that isolated feeling, where you're pretty sure "Nobody likes me, Everybody hates me." The little voice in your head goes into paranoia overdrive, and you feel like crying every time someone hits a vulnerable spot. Which, when you're blue, is like preventing water from hitting a hole in a sieve.
God-ronically (Get it? Instead of I-ronically?), I listed to a podcast this morning on the way to school about suffering, and how suffering is a way to minister and serve others, and NOT a free pass to go out and sin. Which is what I used to do when I felt sad. My idols of choice were alcohol and boys, to dull the real pain while enhancing the superficial feelings of being loved. It's a great recipe for disaster!
Or I would attempt to function "as usual," only to blow up in a rage or an explosion of tears. I might say horrible, hurtful things under the excuse that 'I was hurting.' Or my other favorite idol, food! Stuffing myself full of thousands of calories made me feel physically full when I was emotionally empty.
Today, I understood that the empty feelings and general pallor on everything around me was due to my perspective, not to reality. The solution was to go home and hang out with husband and take care of myself. Not to the bar, not to push myself to pretend everything was A-OK, and not to overeat (even though he made spaghetti, a favorite, I mustered some self-control). And even though I don't feel 100% yet, I am really thankful that I can see through the lie - these feelings won't last forever and lots of people in my life love me. In other words, through my sadness I have found a ray of hope.
Simba got through his depression and became the Lion King... I wonder what waits for me?
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Wednesday, September 8, 2010
Thoughts
1. Yesterday was daughter's first day as a sophomore! It was strange to take the first day of school picture on the porch without the teenager. But, daughter looks so grown up. We are having some great Mother-Daughter moments in the morning. Today was a sad moment, when she needed a hug because she missed the teenager. Also, since daughter and I pack our lunches together in the morning, I have packed a lunch for two days straight!
2. Yesterday, between classes, I ran to the U of M to drop off 50+ mini-bags of puppy chow that husband and I prepared together for a sorority picnic (I'm on the alumni board). Teenager walked down and I gave him a bag filled with things, mostly food, that I forgot to bring Monday. I tried to be brief. Almost everyone I talk to has given me a mini-lecture about "letting him go," that I need to stop visiting him so often and communicating with him, etc. So I've made a pact with myself that I will not initiate contact so that he has his space. (But teenager, if you're reading this, I will respond when you contact me! I just can't initiate it!!!!)
3. Yesterday, I also got to spend some time with Hol-dog and her sister, B-dog. Hol-dog was one of my closest sorority sisters. We are kindred spirits. When we are together, we laugh until we cry. Her sister, B-dog, is a U of M upperclassmen who promised she would look out for the teenager. In light of my new pact, I am very thankful SOMEONE is looking out for him, even if it is the wild-and-crazy B-dog, who very well might introduce teenager to more trouble than if he was left to his own devices... (Just kidding B-dog!)
4. Today I was a reader for St. Thomas' Interfaith Blessing. I was honored to be asked, and read Phillipians 4:4-8.
5. I am really tired. I am currently a slave to my schedule. I need to start saying no or I'm going to burn out before the month is over!
2. Yesterday, between classes, I ran to the U of M to drop off 50+ mini-bags of puppy chow that husband and I prepared together for a sorority picnic (I'm on the alumni board). Teenager walked down and I gave him a bag filled with things, mostly food, that I forgot to bring Monday. I tried to be brief. Almost everyone I talk to has given me a mini-lecture about "letting him go," that I need to stop visiting him so often and communicating with him, etc. So I've made a pact with myself that I will not initiate contact so that he has his space. (But teenager, if you're reading this, I will respond when you contact me! I just can't initiate it!!!!)
3. Yesterday, I also got to spend some time with Hol-dog and her sister, B-dog. Hol-dog was one of my closest sorority sisters. We are kindred spirits. When we are together, we laugh until we cry. Her sister, B-dog, is a U of M upperclassmen who promised she would look out for the teenager. In light of my new pact, I am very thankful SOMEONE is looking out for him, even if it is the wild-and-crazy B-dog, who very well might introduce teenager to more trouble than if he was left to his own devices... (Just kidding B-dog!)
4. Today I was a reader for St. Thomas' Interfaith Blessing. I was honored to be asked, and read Phillipians 4:4-8.
5. I am really tired. I am currently a slave to my schedule. I need to start saying no or I'm going to burn out before the month is over!
Monday, September 6, 2010
New Quest Format (And some Wishful Thinking)
I have decided to nix the "Day X" of Quests, and to simply update as needed on each one as I make progress.
Tomorrow is the Official End of Summer, so I am excited to wake up perfect. I think overnight I will grow a patient heart, and my appetite will die. I will have a desire to run, and will never yell at my family. You know, I won't need the blog except to tell you how well my life is going.
I'm really excited!
Tomorrow is the Official End of Summer, so I am excited to wake up perfect. I think overnight I will grow a patient heart, and my appetite will die. I will have a desire to run, and will never yell at my family. You know, I won't need the blog except to tell you how well my life is going.
I'm really excited!
Right Meow.
Husband, daughter and I loaded up to visit Teenager. We were all very excited to see him again! It had been five long days without him :-)
He is considering joining the rowing team, so we had to nix the state fair (no sense paying $44 for us to go if we aren't staying for at least 8 hours). Instead, we wandered around the mall, found size 13-14 shoes, and had lunch at Perkins.
For the most part, the teenager seems the same. He has made many acquaintances that have strong potential to be friends. All seemed business as usual until he ran out of raspberry ice tea.
Teenager: "Where is the waitress? I want more raspberry ice tea. Right meow."
[Pause]
Me: "Did you just say, Right meow?"
Where did this come from? For those of you who are great movie buffs who can recite dialogue from any movie in the past twenty years, you know this comes from Super Troopers. I was never a great movie buff, and had to listen to my friend Twinsfan as she recited the nimbly-bimbly part every time I asked her, "Did you just say meow?"
So there you have it. My teenager has now reached a higher level of movie consciousness than I. I should really say, has already reached a higher level - it's only been five days! (And yes, THH, I know you're surprised it took him that long. Go watch Munich again).
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He is considering joining the rowing team, so we had to nix the state fair (no sense paying $44 for us to go if we aren't staying for at least 8 hours). Instead, we wandered around the mall, found size 13-14 shoes, and had lunch at Perkins.
For the most part, the teenager seems the same. He has made many acquaintances that have strong potential to be friends. All seemed business as usual until he ran out of raspberry ice tea.
Teenager: "Where is the waitress? I want more raspberry ice tea. Right meow."
[Pause]
Me: "Did you just say, Right meow?"
Where did this come from? For those of you who are great movie buffs who can recite dialogue from any movie in the past twenty years, you know this comes from Super Troopers. I was never a great movie buff, and had to listen to my friend Twinsfan as she recited the nimbly-bimbly part every time I asked her, "Did you just say meow?"
So there you have it. My teenager has now reached a higher level of movie consciousness than I. I should really say, has already reached a higher level - it's only been five days! (And yes, THH, I know you're surprised it took him that long. Go watch Munich again).
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Sunday, September 5, 2010
Daughter's Haircut
Daughter hates getting her haircut. She loves to play with her long blond tresses, and enjoys flipping it over her shoulder. She was not happy when I informed her she needs a haircut.
Our hairdresser looked a little different than the typical conservative hairdressers we have had in the past. She was reminiscent of the '80's rocker look, with white blond hair that was short and spiky and had some purple and green streaks. Daughter was not impressed.
As she was preparing to get her hair washed, she whispered, "I'll Miss You!" I looked at her and said, "Don't worry, I'll be here with you."
She gave me the look of death and said, "No Mom. I'm talking to MY HAIR."
Despite being a real "joy" at several points (she resisted laying down to get her hair washed, she wouldn't lean back into the chair once she returned; and she maintained a scowl for the first ten minutes) she came around and began talking to the hairdresser. She chattered about how her brother was gone at college, and that she had a new mom, and that her other mom died...
At this point I gave her the exasperated look of 'Why are we telling strangers, who five minutes ago you hated with a passion, the most intimate details of your life?' She said sorry and stopped talking. The hairdresser just looked confused. I was beginning to reconsider the wisdom of the haircut today.
Always an adventure with daughter.
Our hairdresser looked a little different than the typical conservative hairdressers we have had in the past. She was reminiscent of the '80's rocker look, with white blond hair that was short and spiky and had some purple and green streaks. Daughter was not impressed.
As she was preparing to get her hair washed, she whispered, "I'll Miss You!" I looked at her and said, "Don't worry, I'll be here with you."
She gave me the look of death and said, "No Mom. I'm talking to MY HAIR."
Despite being a real "joy" at several points (she resisted laying down to get her hair washed, she wouldn't lean back into the chair once she returned; and she maintained a scowl for the first ten minutes) she came around and began talking to the hairdresser. She chattered about how her brother was gone at college, and that she had a new mom, and that her other mom died...
At this point I gave her the exasperated look of 'Why are we telling strangers, who five minutes ago you hated with a passion, the most intimate details of your life?' She said sorry and stopped talking. The hairdresser just looked confused. I was beginning to reconsider the wisdom of the haircut today.
Always an adventure with daughter.
Saturday, September 4, 2010
Grand Marais = 1,000,000 WW Points
I am full. I am full of lasagna and blueberry pie. A blueberry pie made with wild blueberries on a cream cheese and real whipping cream layer in a homemade crust. I had more than one serving. Of everything.
I am going to the State Fair on Monday. So why try and be on a diet? I fell off the wagon on Wednesday. The teenager said since he was leaving, and it was our last meal as a family, I could eat whatever I wanted. So I ordered the Olive Garden never-ending Pasta Bowl. (Comfort food people!)
Thursday wasn't too bad, but I was too busy to count points at the end of the day. I was hustling around doing laundry and packing so daughter and I could go with Husband to work tomorrow. We were going to go shopping in Duluth, and then we would all leave for Grand Marais around 3 p.m.
Friday was a terrible food day. Terrible meaning yummy and delicious. Daughter and I had breakfast at Perkins, lunch at the food court, and dinner at a potluck. Yum. Yum Yum Yum.
I have fallen off the wagon and am rolling down the hill.
I am going to the State Fair on Monday. So why try and be on a diet? I fell off the wagon on Wednesday. The teenager said since he was leaving, and it was our last meal as a family, I could eat whatever I wanted. So I ordered the Olive Garden never-ending Pasta Bowl. (Comfort food people!)
Thursday wasn't too bad, but I was too busy to count points at the end of the day. I was hustling around doing laundry and packing so daughter and I could go with Husband to work tomorrow. We were going to go shopping in Duluth, and then we would all leave for Grand Marais around 3 p.m.
Friday was a terrible food day. Terrible meaning yummy and delicious. Daughter and I had breakfast at Perkins, lunch at the food court, and dinner at a potluck. Yum. Yum Yum Yum.
I have fallen off the wagon and am rolling down the hill.
Thursday, September 2, 2010
Mocha
This is Mocha. I have extremely long toenails and can type. (Take that, Martha!)
I miss the teenager. This morning, I missed him sooooo much that after BigMan left, I threw up in the entry and in the bathroom. BigLady doesn't like it when I throw up on the carpet, so I was careful to aim for noncarpeted areas. Then I went back to bed.
It was a little awkward when BigLady realized I had puked. She thought it was bubbles on the bath rug (OK, I was predominately on the tile) and drug her foot through it... when it didn't respond like bubbles she wiped at it with some toilet paper, then saw some strands of grass and realized what it was. Then she hopped back into the shower and rinsed off her foot. Odd.
And then BigLady ran all over, getting dressed and cleaning up my puke and yelling at LittleLady to feed me and give me water. I thought she was going to forget to take me out, but at the very last second she yelled for me. I was hoping to sneak into the car but she would have none of that. I was too nervous to pee, and before you know it I was back in the house, all alone, as the car sped out of the driveway.
Oh Teenager. When you are here my life is much less stressful. None of this rush rush rush Mocha, go to the bathroom NOW Mocha, no treat for you Mocha... sheesh. BigLady was so paranoid after my puking incident that she closed all the doors and the only place I could sleep was the couch, which is OK but nothing like your smelly bed upstairs. How am I going to take over his room by secretly pooping all over if she keeps preventing me from getting upstairs?
Well, I must go now. We're going to work with the BigMan tomorrow, then up to Grand Marais.
I miss the teenager. This morning, I missed him sooooo much that after BigMan left, I threw up in the entry and in the bathroom. BigLady doesn't like it when I throw up on the carpet, so I was careful to aim for noncarpeted areas. Then I went back to bed.
It was a little awkward when BigLady realized I had puked. She thought it was bubbles on the bath rug (OK, I was predominately on the tile) and drug her foot through it... when it didn't respond like bubbles she wiped at it with some toilet paper, then saw some strands of grass and realized what it was. Then she hopped back into the shower and rinsed off her foot. Odd.
And then BigLady ran all over, getting dressed and cleaning up my puke and yelling at LittleLady to feed me and give me water. I thought she was going to forget to take me out, but at the very last second she yelled for me. I was hoping to sneak into the car but she would have none of that. I was too nervous to pee, and before you know it I was back in the house, all alone, as the car sped out of the driveway.
Oh Teenager. When you are here my life is much less stressful. None of this rush rush rush Mocha, go to the bathroom NOW Mocha, no treat for you Mocha... sheesh. BigLady was so paranoid after my puking incident that she closed all the doors and the only place I could sleep was the couch, which is OK but nothing like your smelly bed upstairs. How am I going to take over his room by secretly pooping all over if she keeps preventing me from getting upstairs?
Well, I must go now. We're going to work with the BigMan tomorrow, then up to Grand Marais.
I Owe You Chocolate!
I owe you chocolate! I still have quite a few bars in the fridge, and they are thwarting my efforts to be healthy. Let's try and have the hand off ASAP!
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
Endings
Rationally, we all know that beginnings and endings are part of everything. Nothing lasts forever, and something can't come from nothing. Like the 4H kid who knows that if her steer wins Grand Champion at the state fair, it's going to market, I sit here and ponder about a life that requires us to invest everything - and when we succeed, we suddenly realize we just won ourselves a whole lot of heartache!
I know, the Teenager isn't dead (unlike that Grand Champion steer). He's always my "kid," I've already texted him a few times, and I'm sure we will see each other relatively often. Instead, I'm mourning the end of a wonderful era in my life. Parenting the teenager on a daily basis for the past five years was so very hard, and yet so very wonderful. To look back and see the darkest moments of my life, when I was hopeless and overwhelmed and felt wholly unable to do the job; contrasted with the joy of laughing with the teenager, encouraging him and watching him grow into a good man - well, it makes you cry.
To put it another way, it's how you feel after the last curtain call on the final night of a show. Or after finishing the last game of the season. When you invest your heart in the performance, you can't help but wish it could keep going just a little longer. Even when you know you couldn't have done it any better, you still cry because it's over. You can't relive it, and yet you desperately wish you could.
These tears are good. If I'm lucky, I will cry like this throughout my life. How horrible to spend my entire life thinking "Thank goodness that period of my life is over and done with!" But it's scary too; tears like this require self-sacrifice, perseverance and determined love. I didn't cry much when I graduated high school, because I was self-centered and life was easy. Same for college - I didn't invest a whole lot of myself into anything worth many tears when it ended.
Today marks my first really painful ending. I am consoled that my heartache is the result of a game well-played, of a part well-done, of a steer well-fed. I am eager to see what God has in store for the next era of my life. And I'm excited to see what God has in store for the teenager.
But right now, I'm just sad.
I know, the Teenager isn't dead (unlike that Grand Champion steer). He's always my "kid," I've already texted him a few times, and I'm sure we will see each other relatively often. Instead, I'm mourning the end of a wonderful era in my life. Parenting the teenager on a daily basis for the past five years was so very hard, and yet so very wonderful. To look back and see the darkest moments of my life, when I was hopeless and overwhelmed and felt wholly unable to do the job; contrasted with the joy of laughing with the teenager, encouraging him and watching him grow into a good man - well, it makes you cry.
To put it another way, it's how you feel after the last curtain call on the final night of a show. Or after finishing the last game of the season. When you invest your heart in the performance, you can't help but wish it could keep going just a little longer. Even when you know you couldn't have done it any better, you still cry because it's over. You can't relive it, and yet you desperately wish you could.
These tears are good. If I'm lucky, I will cry like this throughout my life. How horrible to spend my entire life thinking "Thank goodness that period of my life is over and done with!" But it's scary too; tears like this require self-sacrifice, perseverance and determined love. I didn't cry much when I graduated high school, because I was self-centered and life was easy. Same for college - I didn't invest a whole lot of myself into anything worth many tears when it ended.
Today marks my first really painful ending. I am consoled that my heartache is the result of a game well-played, of a part well-done, of a steer well-fed. I am eager to see what God has in store for the next era of my life. And I'm excited to see what God has in store for the teenager.
But right now, I'm just sad.
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