Ok, here's my new motto: "One day at a time, let it be, carpe diem, que sera sera..." I think you all get my drift. I don't do well living in a constant state of worry with the anticipation of sorrow or impending doom. I end up paralyzed in my favorite chair obsessively messing with the computer while slowly flipping between HGTV and Food Network, all the while slowly falling into a candy induced stupor. I have worried on 5 pounds this summer. I was supposed to reinvent myself this summer and lose weight. Although to be fair, that has been my goal every summer since the age of 13. Most people have new year's resolutions. I have new school year resolutions (or is it aspirations?).
Well, so far I seem to be keeping the worry at bay (is that the right bay?). I give a lot of credit to Doctor Who. Yes really. If you haven't watched it, what are you waiting for? Even my stick in the mud husband watches it. It's the only show he watches that isn't a sport or doesn't have people finding and pontificating upon their old junk.
Anyway, back to Doctor Who. The most recent episodes that we have watched have focused on a "fixed point in time." Ok, so if there are fixed points in time, my hoping, wishing, and worrying about them won't help. Right? So, I'm on a campaign of living in the moment. I don't know how long this will last, but I'll do my best!
Tuesday, July 30, 2013
Sunday, July 28, 2013
Days Like These
When I am old and gray, it will be days like these that I wish to remember. It was just a plain day, nothing big organized or planned, but perfect in it's simplicity. Caroline and I went over to my mother's house to help her pack for our upcoming trip to Florida. She is feeling better and we laughed and joked with my step-father, just like normal.
I came home and went with Rob to Kohls to use my Kohls Cash. We walked through the store holding hands listening to Ho Hey over the PA system and testing out the softness of towels. We departed the store into a rainstorm allowing us the perfect chance to test the absorbency of the new towels. I strolled through the parking lot wrapped in my new towel happy and laughing.
After dinner, I pushed Lily through violin practice and actually got 10 minutes of beautiful focused music out of her. She has learned to make music instead of screeching. We ended the evening giggling over highly inappropriate potty themed jokes (it is what we do best), then finally settling down, happy and tired, to watch Doctor Who.
Simple perfection.
I came home and went with Rob to Kohls to use my Kohls Cash. We walked through the store holding hands listening to Ho Hey over the PA system and testing out the softness of towels. We departed the store into a rainstorm allowing us the perfect chance to test the absorbency of the new towels. I strolled through the parking lot wrapped in my new towel happy and laughing.
After dinner, I pushed Lily through violin practice and actually got 10 minutes of beautiful focused music out of her. She has learned to make music instead of screeching. We ended the evening giggling over highly inappropriate potty themed jokes (it is what we do best), then finally settling down, happy and tired, to watch Doctor Who.
Simple perfection.
Wednesday, July 24, 2013
Breathtaking
This summer has been such a contradiction. All at once it has been full of sorrow, frustration, and moments of intense breathtaking wonder. I've written about the sorrow and frustration, but there has also been such joy that I just want to stop and yell "Freeze! I need to memorize this moment."
Watching my best friend play with my restless goofy daughter and then make both girls giggle with inappropriate jokes.
My awesome cousin staying with Lily so Caroline and I could go visit my mother in the hospital. That same cousin's brilliant suggestion that we spend that evening watching Sharknado.
Meeting up with old treasured friends at a local bar and remembering that I am more than simply an overwhelmed teacher, exhausted mother, patient wife, and loving daughter. Also, remembering that it is okay to laugh when your heart is breaking, as a matter of fact it just might be vital.
Dancing with Caroline and my other best friend in the rain at a Fun. concert. Feeling like the most awesome mother in the world as we screamed and high fived.
Watching Lily leave her frustration and confusion behind to make her baby cousin laugh. I don't know which child glowed more.
Introducing my oldest to the brilliance that is Sufjan Stevens.
Spending the afternoon wandering the mall with both girls and getting Caroline her coveted "hipster glasses."
Sure preceding or following each moment there was frustration, sorrow, or both. Last week, a friend posted the following "To worry is to meditate on the negative." Okay, so positive it is.
Watching my best friend play with my restless goofy daughter and then make both girls giggle with inappropriate jokes.
My awesome cousin staying with Lily so Caroline and I could go visit my mother in the hospital. That same cousin's brilliant suggestion that we spend that evening watching Sharknado.
Meeting up with old treasured friends at a local bar and remembering that I am more than simply an overwhelmed teacher, exhausted mother, patient wife, and loving daughter. Also, remembering that it is okay to laugh when your heart is breaking, as a matter of fact it just might be vital.
Dancing with Caroline and my other best friend in the rain at a Fun. concert. Feeling like the most awesome mother in the world as we screamed and high fived.
Watching Lily leave her frustration and confusion behind to make her baby cousin laugh. I don't know which child glowed more.
Introducing my oldest to the brilliance that is Sufjan Stevens.
Spending the afternoon wandering the mall with both girls and getting Caroline her coveted "hipster glasses."
Sure preceding or following each moment there was frustration, sorrow, or both. Last week, a friend posted the following "To worry is to meditate on the negative." Okay, so positive it is.
Monday, July 22, 2013
Soundtracks
The other morning, Caroline woke up and told me that she had a dream with a soundtrack. I love that! Often as I am driving around, I create a soundtrack in my head. I have even chosen theme songs over the years. I am especially moved when I am driving on a long trip and the music makes me feel like I am in an independent film. Caroline and I like to turn to each other and declare "indie film moment!"
Music is a huge part of my life. I have always loved alt rock and folk, regardless of the decade. There seem to be certain albums/artists that remind me so much of pivotal moments in my life. Unfortunately, most of those revolve around death. Ironically, hearing them doesn't make me sad; it makes me happy. Even though I listened to them at some of the saddest moments of my life, they trigger the happiest memories. It is especially wonderful when I hear the songs unexpectedly.
My father loved U2. We played a lot of U2 the weekend after his passing. To this day, whenever I here "With or Without You" it feels like a special hello from my father. The summer before my Gramma Hill passed away, I was hooked on Illinois by Sufjan Stevens. I spent the whole time driving around CT listening to it. On a side note, it is one of the most brilliant albums I've ever heard. That March, Cat Stevens' Footsteps in the Dark was in the CD player. I listened to it all the way to the hospital. There was a surprise March snow. I remember how ironic it was the I was driving through such a beautiful scene, listening to beautiful music, on the way to one of the saddest moments of my life.
This summer it has been The Lumineers. I first listened to the album when I was driving to GA. It was the perfect "indie film moment." Lily and I were driving down a tree lined southern highway, finding pictures in the cloud and listening to fun acoustic music. You can also add Fun. to that list now. Last weekend, Caroline and I went to see them with one of my best friends and her daughter. It ended up storming and we rocked out in the rain, feeling like the coolest mothers in the world.
Music is a huge part of my life. I have always loved alt rock and folk, regardless of the decade. There seem to be certain albums/artists that remind me so much of pivotal moments in my life. Unfortunately, most of those revolve around death. Ironically, hearing them doesn't make me sad; it makes me happy. Even though I listened to them at some of the saddest moments of my life, they trigger the happiest memories. It is especially wonderful when I hear the songs unexpectedly.
My father loved U2. We played a lot of U2 the weekend after his passing. To this day, whenever I here "With or Without You" it feels like a special hello from my father. The summer before my Gramma Hill passed away, I was hooked on Illinois by Sufjan Stevens. I spent the whole time driving around CT listening to it. On a side note, it is one of the most brilliant albums I've ever heard. That March, Cat Stevens' Footsteps in the Dark was in the CD player. I listened to it all the way to the hospital. There was a surprise March snow. I remember how ironic it was the I was driving through such a beautiful scene, listening to beautiful music, on the way to one of the saddest moments of my life.
This summer it has been The Lumineers. I first listened to the album when I was driving to GA. It was the perfect "indie film moment." Lily and I were driving down a tree lined southern highway, finding pictures in the cloud and listening to fun acoustic music. You can also add Fun. to that list now. Last weekend, Caroline and I went to see them with one of my best friends and her daughter. It ended up storming and we rocked out in the rain, feeling like the coolest mothers in the world.
Style
Apparently, I have a parenting style. Up until now, I've thought it was "slacker/attachment parenting with bursts of irritability." I have also described it as the "Miss Havisham's Garden Method". Caroline has described it as the "Mom Does Not Give Two Fs Approach" (let's say the Fs stand for "flying figs). After reading the awesome post "The CTFD Method", I guess I am a minimalist parent. Mind you, I have done minimal research (cue snare drum) into the method, since I have better thing to do than look into my parenting style. I am busy, wait for it, being a parent.
In the summer, a lot of that involves me encouraging the children to "figure it out." I am terrible at entertaining my kids. As I have stated over and over, when I have a moment to myself (that is when I am not cleaning, organizing, or driving) I can be found reading or messing about on the computer. The fact that I expect my kids to go outside and play without coming in and whining seems to classify me as a minimalist parent. Well cool beans, I am part of a movement!
Note: Click the CTFD link, it is awesome!
In the summer, a lot of that involves me encouraging the children to "figure it out." I am terrible at entertaining my kids. As I have stated over and over, when I have a moment to myself (that is when I am not cleaning, organizing, or driving) I can be found reading or messing about on the computer. The fact that I expect my kids to go outside and play without coming in and whining seems to classify me as a minimalist parent. Well cool beans, I am part of a movement!
Note: Click the CTFD link, it is awesome!
Thursday, July 18, 2013
Because
My final text to my brother last night was "I love you. Now get some sleep." It is so much easier to give that advice than to take it. I don't have much trouble going to sleep, but without fail, I wake up at 4:00a.m. with my head swimming. I worry about my mom, my students, Lily. Sometimes these early morning "fret-fests" can be productive. I can brainstorms lists, and once soothed, with a plan my brain can relax and let me get some more sleep. This week that isn't an option.
My mom is in the hospital. She has fought so hard and been so very optimistic, but I don't think that will be enough. It might seem like I am at peace with this, but inside there is a very angry little persons stomping her feet, bicycling her legs, and yelling "No!" I am not ready to lose my mother. Call me arrogant, but I feel like I've lost enough people. I've lost pretty much everyone who raised me. It makes me so angry that they aren't and won't be here to help raise my girls. I grew up in a big "crazy" family with a group mentality in raising children. Whether it was by choice or necessity, I don't know. It was pretty awesome to have had so many people loving me and believing in me. I used to think that being born into such a young family meant that they would be around for a long time. Now I think that I was born into a young family because they weren't going to be here for long.
Losing my mom never for once seemed like an option. I need to let this happen on her terms and with dignity. As always I will be reasonable. It is not a very exciting personality trait, but it has been the one that has served me the best. There is nothing that I can do to stop this. That is the hardest part. I am always in control of so many things. When they get out of control, I can usually spin the situation to work out anyway. Maybe that's why I have spent so much time watching HGTV this summer. I can't control my world, so I am going to watch shows where people can take control and change everything.
I need to let this go and turn over control. As much as I want to know why and I want to shout about the unfairness of this, there is nothing that can be done. Sometimes the answer is simply an unsatisfactory "because."
My mom is in the hospital. She has fought so hard and been so very optimistic, but I don't think that will be enough. It might seem like I am at peace with this, but inside there is a very angry little persons stomping her feet, bicycling her legs, and yelling "No!" I am not ready to lose my mother. Call me arrogant, but I feel like I've lost enough people. I've lost pretty much everyone who raised me. It makes me so angry that they aren't and won't be here to help raise my girls. I grew up in a big "crazy" family with a group mentality in raising children. Whether it was by choice or necessity, I don't know. It was pretty awesome to have had so many people loving me and believing in me. I used to think that being born into such a young family meant that they would be around for a long time. Now I think that I was born into a young family because they weren't going to be here for long.
Losing my mom never for once seemed like an option. I need to let this happen on her terms and with dignity. As always I will be reasonable. It is not a very exciting personality trait, but it has been the one that has served me the best. There is nothing that I can do to stop this. That is the hardest part. I am always in control of so many things. When they get out of control, I can usually spin the situation to work out anyway. Maybe that's why I have spent so much time watching HGTV this summer. I can't control my world, so I am going to watch shows where people can take control and change everything.
I need to let this go and turn over control. As much as I want to know why and I want to shout about the unfairness of this, there is nothing that can be done. Sometimes the answer is simply an unsatisfactory "because."
Monday, July 15, 2013
How Far We've Come
There really isn't much on T.V. these days and I can't possibly watch anymore news. It really doesn't help me stay focused or positive. I remember when Rob and I first moved into together, he would come in from the late shift at the restaurant to find me on the coach crying and in a mild panic. He was greeted with "We can't eat fast food hamburgers anymore!" or "How safe is our checking account?" Without batting and eyelash he'd calmly ask "Which news show were you watching? How about you just stop watching news shows?" That eventually morphed into "Enough of the freakin' news shows! They just upset you!" Rob has always had this ability to appear calm. I know the true Rob, but he puts on the best front. You would never catch him running around in a tizzy about all of the potential dangers in the world. That is probably because he's too busy ranting about baby boomers or the 1%.
Anyway, here I go off on another tangent. The point is that instead of watching the news, I have been deep in the blogeshere. I have found great blogs that are new to me. They have much jazzier than mine, but still speak to me. In all of this time, I still feel like those in the blogesphere are my friends (no need to question my grip on reality). It helps to know that I am not alone. I am not alone in being a tired wife, overwhelmed teacher, exhausted parent, or worried daughter. But more than the sad stuff, I am not alone in keeping my sense of humor. So many of the blogs that I've linked to have been started from loss and great pain, but have found joy and humor in the daily craziness of being human.
I have also looked back at some of my earlier posts. I am still proud of everything that I have written. I am most proud that my humor has remained intact. It has been over five years of silly stories, bad spelling, questionable grammar, and me hanging my laundry out for all to see. My focus and station in life has shifted some. There might not be as many funny Lily stories (She's still pretty damn funny, but totally inappropriate. There is some laundry that is best left in the hamper. ). I think what started out as a blog about being a mother has turned into a blog about a mother. I am interested to see where the next five years go. I know it will be bumpy. I am pretty sure that I am ready. The only thing that I know for sure is my grammar and spelling probably won't improve. Hey, in the world of cross stitch we say "It's the flaws that make it one of a kind." Ok, I made that up, but it should be a quote!
Anyway, here I go off on another tangent. The point is that instead of watching the news, I have been deep in the blogeshere. I have found great blogs that are new to me. They have much jazzier than mine, but still speak to me. In all of this time, I still feel like those in the blogesphere are my friends (no need to question my grip on reality). It helps to know that I am not alone. I am not alone in being a tired wife, overwhelmed teacher, exhausted parent, or worried daughter. But more than the sad stuff, I am not alone in keeping my sense of humor. So many of the blogs that I've linked to have been started from loss and great pain, but have found joy and humor in the daily craziness of being human.
I have also looked back at some of my earlier posts. I am still proud of everything that I have written. I am most proud that my humor has remained intact. It has been over five years of silly stories, bad spelling, questionable grammar, and me hanging my laundry out for all to see. My focus and station in life has shifted some. There might not be as many funny Lily stories (She's still pretty damn funny, but totally inappropriate. There is some laundry that is best left in the hamper. ). I think what started out as a blog about being a mother has turned into a blog about a mother. I am interested to see where the next five years go. I know it will be bumpy. I am pretty sure that I am ready. The only thing that I know for sure is my grammar and spelling probably won't improve. Hey, in the world of cross stitch we say "It's the flaws that make it one of a kind." Ok, I made that up, but it should be a quote!
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