No Parking, Baby

                                                 

So, in the way the universe always seems to do I got reminded about what is really important as soon as I got the kiddos to bed and settled in to write this post.

Y'all, Whitney Houston died.

It's funny how those really really famous people from your childhood disappear even though they're still alive. But you still know they're around, and can sing one of their songs like it was only a minute ago that you heard it on the radio. I was never a huge fan, but she did sing one of my favorite renditions of "The Star Spangled Banner" ever. She should have gone on to get really old and sell out concerts for decades. Too bad about that drug problem.

I was going to write about this woman who was out of the blue awful to me this afternoon. (in front of the boys. Ugh.) Completely unreasonably rude and mean. But then I turned on the computer and there's the news of Whitney Houston's death and I started thinking about her child. Her mom. All the people who will miss her although she'd probably been missing for years. I got some perspective.

 I wished it were that woman who had died. Instead of Whitney Houston.

No, no, no. I'm only mostly kidding about that.

I hope that lady really liked Whitney Houston. That it makes her sad to hear that Whitney died. That it makes her think of not worrying about small things since life can disappear in an instant. Maybe she'll even think of me. With my two red-cheeked children laughing our way to the car until she roared into our afternoon bitching about parking. Perhaps she'll remember next time to not be so rude and impatient. Perhaps.

I'm thinking about putting a Whitney Houston CD on her doorstep with a picture me and the kiddos and the van so she'll recognize me. The CD with "I-e-i-e-i will always love you-oooooo" on it.

I probably won't do that. But it did make me laugh to think about. Which made me feel better about feeling so grumpy about that mean woman. And made me feel better about Whitney Houston. Godspeed.

Gotta Go

It's sort of funny to find this old post about slowing down when I've spent the last almost couple of weeks practically in reverse. And by in reverse I mean trips to the ER, operations, mucho laying around uselessly, gobbling (i.e. following label instructions to the letter) pain meds, and sending Jonathan on his daily trip to the pharmacy. I was so in reverse I didn't even poop for a week, which resulted in two trips to the pharmacy.

I discovered a few things about myself during this hiatus from my so-called "normal" life.

1.) I am not a good patient. I do not like other people doing stuff for me, which probably stems from my whole trust issue baggage. I know I will do it the way I want it done, but can you? Hmmmmm. I'll need to think on that. In the meantime, I'll just do it myself.

2.) Only lifting things that weigh as much or less than a gallon of milk is almost impossible. Try it. Oooppp! Put that down. I'm sure your purse weighs more than that. I know my three year old does. And how the hell do you make him sit in time out without carrying him there? If he were listening then I wouldn't be in that situation in the first place. So I had to cheat.

3.) Every time I use the bathroom I feel grateful. After going to the ER the night after my surgery since I couldn't pee and the aforementioned poo issue I am glad to be able to go on my own, and to be able to go at all. So count as one of your blessings being able to use the potty on your own if you can. Not being able to is a royal pain in the you know what. This was the best example of "you don't know what you've got until it's gone" I've ever had. In my life.

4.) There is humor in even the worst situation. Although I was in the worst pain of my life (including childbirth) the night I went to the ER mere hours after my surgery because I could not manage to urinate (after chugging water all afternoon) I still sort of had to laugh. Imagine me, dying. It's 1:30 AM. We've been at the ER since 10:00 PM. Jonathan is bleary eyed watching something random on hospital satellite TV. Nurse comes to finally put my catheter in. After an embarrassing amount of tries (I really wanted to help) I suggest a that maybe someone else might want to come help. Another nurse comes in. Now I have two women peering curiously at my va-jay-jay. We give it another try or ten. No luck. A third nurse joins the group. Now here I am, dying, with three women bent over me and my delicates. Finally they get the catheter in. I fill a 2200 ml bag in thirty mins. That's around five cups. Hey, I really did have to go!

5.) The whole medical system is flooded with sick people. (duh.) I have never seen so many sick people. Billion dollar business medicating symptoms and not the root of the problem. I could hear the cash register ka-chinging every moment. My first three hours at the emergency room cost over $1300. No fancy tests, just a particularly painful I.V. and a brief chat with the doctor. It took me twenty-five minutes just to check in for my post op check. Of course, that appointment isn't until next Monday, but that's almost beside the point. I am still shaking my head in disbelief and wonder at how many people are at the hospital. We are really the most unhealthy bunch of folks. God Bless America.

6.) I want to take the best care of myself that I can. I do not want to be that grossly overweight woman trying to give blood bruised all over in a wheelchair with oxygen tubes up my nose. I can only hope the things I do help to keep me up and running for a long good time to come. You want inspiration for starting a fitness program? Head to your local hospital. Look at all the people who couldn't run a step if it were their hearts fondest desire. Then go for a damn long walk and breathe in. Eat a vegetable instead of a box of something "easy". I could talk about this forever, but will leave it like that for now. You are worth it.

7.) I am not ready to die. I have loads of unfinished business. (like making a will for gods sake) Plus lots of other things I just want to do. I want to be here to see how it all turns out. I want to see my kiddos get big and grown up. And get old with my husband so we can enjoy grandchildren, or just being on our own again. So, I think I already knew that. But thinking about your own mortality can really make you...think.

Afterword: Almost three weeks after my surgery I'm doing pretty well. Still sore, still not doing much *ahem* any heavy lifting, and contemplating going for a run since my surgeon said it was OK. Maybe tomorrow morning hmmm?

Fast Enough For Me

Isn't it funny how we all think we've got it all under control? I'm running the show here. I'm making all the important decisions. Me, the great commander of all things great and small, from the laundry and the manners and everything in between. I coordinate schedules, remember things like dentist appointments and to give the dogs their flea stuff so we don't have to buy that expensive spray again. The one in control, the boss, the big kahuna? That's me.

Yeah, right.

I really love the way the universe, or God, or what/who ever makes things go round and round and sends out life lessons always makes sure to speak up if I'm not listening. It's such a comfort to me to know that my ego has a conscience. And that I'm not the one in control of that.

I tend to not listen to myself too much. I shove my sense right down and keep on keeping on. It really doesn't matter if it's something inconsequential like having one too many cookies or pretty big like taking on so much I end up with almost- pneumonia. Which is how the universe yelled at me this week, since I clearly wasn't listening even after it spoke up loud and clear with a speeding ticket at the beginning of the week.

"Do you know how fast you were going?" she asked through my open window. "Too fast," I answered. And I was going too fast, and I knew it. But I was late, and I had to take Jonathan his phone, and get to work on time, and, and, and.

She gave me a ticket, thankfully with no points on my license. And I've been setting my cruise control ever since. It has surprised me how much pressure this takes off of my trips downtown and back. And how much more relaxed I am because I'm not constantly worried about getting a ticket or planning moves to keep speeding ahead. Sometimes the universe appears as a petite policewoman just doing her job. Just like magic. With flashing lights and everything.

And other times it appears after a tense forty-five minute wait with two antsy children in an examination room as of my kind nurse practitioner, Karen. With a patient smile she asked me, "Why did you wait so long to come in?" "I just thought I'd get better," I  answered honestly. This was after her horrified look at my throat. ("Your tonsils are HUGE!" she exclaimed. Oh. Really?) "You have infection everywhere. Have you ever used an inhaler? Haven't you noticed being short of breath?" Well, I had noticed that I wasn't breathing very deeply, but didn't really think about it. Too much going on, too much to do.

Karen left the room and came back with an inhaler and 8 sample bottles of cough syrup. Informed me if I were still wheezing on Monday that she would send me for chest x-rays. And laughed at me when I told her I had to go to work, but had the next four days off. "Oh, ho ho ho. No work for you."

Oh.

Bronchitis, strep throat, AND a sinus infection. OK, OK. I hear you universe. Definitely yelling "SLOOOW DOWN!!!" now. Easy.

And so I am taking my medicine, and resting, and not doing too much. Look at me- working on my blog even! Putting down all the burdens I took on and remembering to look when it's time to pick up my bags again on Monday. And feeling so sort of delighted that when I need it I can take care of myself. I wish I could explain how happy it makes me that these lessons are out there for me to learn, and that I will always get shown the way. That even universal screaming and yelling can make me feel so comforted and joyful.

moving on

Lord. Here it is, the night before we pack the truck and take our bit of family off onto another place just one state away. We celebrated with all of Jonathans' people from his work and came home to sit on the porch for beers and reflection.

Then Jess came over. And we talked a lot about Jesus, and faith.

Then she left, and we talked mostly about Cummins, and reasons, and then Jonathan sent me out for cigarettes. Because we smoke while we drink, and we were out. And I came home and he had his head on the table, almost sleeping since it's late as hell, and he's been up since five. And so, I suppose it seems like a good idea to log these thoughts, although in hindsight it may just be beer riddled ramblings about change and working for it. But here it is, and I'm not in hindsight yet.

Have you ever done something not smart? Have you ever done something just because you could? Because one night, at the table, it sounded just right? And then you take your job, and you quit, and you think...oh? This house? We can give it up. It sucks the life from us, so does this place, so does this life.

And then you decide to walk away. Then you decide that the loan isn't worth your happiness, that your credit rating doesn't equal happiness. That the home you love will never bring the happiness you believed in six years ago when you were a newlywed, and a new parent. That maybe you HAVE TO walk away to preserve your family. That the big "forclosure" word isn't so dirty, but the cleanest break you can make.

And so that's what we're doing. I mean, really. How can we not?

I haven't kept up with this blog at all. I meant to, but I changed jobs, and got a little lost. Or a lot lost. I lost my running, my yoga, my time with my children. And I chased money. And I lost. I did gain some fine people in the meantime, but my whole self stepped off the edge and is just now coming back around. I cannot say enough that I went after money and LOST.

Now, please don't misunderstand, I made a bunch of money. Four times what I was making before. Every week. And it sucked. It sucked the life out of me, my life, and my time. And I couldn't make a difference, anyway. Because things are the way they are, and they just are.

It's good to know what you can and cannot do. And also good to know when to walk away. And so. We are walking away. From everything. From security, from safety, from the comfort of our own home.

I'll make the rest of this blog about our big change, but until then I sit, content in the knowing that we were brave enough to make the change, and to share that change with you. And so, we walk away. And we grab onto ourselves, and hold on tight. Keep reading, keep loving each other, and run to your dreams. If you don't they will run from you.

Missing

The guys all just took off for Durham to visit my folks- an impromptu trip as a surprise for the 4th. And another surprise is I'm not speeding along beside Jonathan on I-26 because I have to work. And there are so few of us at work that I cannot finagle my way into the weekend off because really, who else could work? (I know, that makes me sound a little self important, but it's kind of pretty much true)

What the real surprise is is how I find myself here in this so so quiet house. An how my breath sucked in a little when I passed Hampton's empty room and my arms literally ached for his little body to hold one more time before they left. How my eyes are full of hanging on tears right now thinking of all of my loves in one speeding along car without me. Gulp. What if something happened? Lord, I cannot even think about it.

It's funny how you don't miss things until they're gone. And please don't roll your eyes thinking um, hello? Captain Obvious? Because you know what I really mean. Just two hours ago I was longing for quiet time for a nap and maybe a few squares of chocolate without little hands reaching up so we can "share please mommy". (I can be selfish and secretive with chocolate. Sometimes you just have to be. Or someone else wants to eat half of the other half you were already wanting to eat.)

And I'll bet you've been missing my blog, too. And see, you didn't even know you were until I mentioned it and now...Happy Fourth y'all.

The Fullest Plate

You see what time it is. Late, oh, so so late. But after getting home from work I just cannot seem to shut down, to put it all away and just sleep. Possibly because so much of my days aren't just MINE anymore.

I used to go to the Y, hang out all day, bum around just being the pseudo stay-at-home mom I've been for years. Not anymore. Now, don't get me wrong- I adore my new job. The hours, however are throwing me for a loop. After years of getting home around nine or ten I struggle with rolling in around twelve or so. And working days- or doubles. I see Jack for breakfast, then not until the next morning. Only some days, but still.

To be honest, my whole being is just struggling. Struggling with not being able to spend time with anyone in my family- too bad they all don't stay up super late so we can eat snacks and cuddle around midnight.

I suppose life really is about the struggle, the push and pull of change and compromise. Handling it with grace and love and patience (which has never been my strong suit) and embracing the newness of it all. I am not doing any of those. I want to. I have these talks inside my head that tell me "It's OK" and "Just go to bed" but I am selfish, and needy, and stubborn. I am ego at it's finest and cannot right now let go of what was and what it really is.I cannot help loving what I'm doing and feeling regret all at once. I cannot get to a place where I am fine with missing the days and the sleep (oh, the sleep. It's like I'm with a newborn again.)

Things have suffered with my new schedule- my blog, my early morning yoga, my solidness, my happiness.

Not to mention the hernia surgery that I'll have to have in mid July- but only after the restaurant slows down enough for me to take the weeks (JESUS! WEEKS!) off that I have to to recover adequately. I'm not even supposed to be picking Hampton up. And he requires that about twenty-seven times a day.

And my yoga teacher training. Oh, yeah. That's over for this year. I've waited a long damn time for this- an opportunity to do something that was a light for me. A thing that told me what I wanted to do with my life, what I wanted to be. Instead I'll just keep being what I've been for years- a waitress.

Which, when I write that seems pretty appropriate- a waitress. A waiter, someone who waits. Do you ever feel like you've been waiting for that right inspiration, the right thing to come along? That answer that finally, FINALLY shows up after you've just washed your hands of the whole thing and then blam! Here it is! That's the way I felt about my teacher training. Like I'd stopped looking only to have the answer right in my hands so easily. Of course, of course- being a yoga teacher was perfect for me.

Except, maybe not now. Especially when I'm finally making really good money, and enjoying my job more than I have in YEARS. It's so hard to feel so strained and still have a dream and then put it away. It's really hard to shake up my identity and still feel like ME.

I suppose that's the hardest part. Every bit of my reality has changed drastically in the past six weeks. From cutting my hair to turning forty to changing jobs to putting a dream on hold. I wish I could say I'm handling it with grace, but I'm not. I really want to be, but sometimes I want to wish the present away just to sink back into the past. The easy, predictable, known past. I knew who I was then. Now, I sometimes just can't tell.

My plate is really full. And I'm blessed and lucky and busy and tired. And as much as I try to convince myself that I can do this, I am doing it, sometimes I feel so passed by I just should probably sit down.

Perhaps I'm feeling also mortal, and older, and incapable. Sheesh. Thanks for reading.

Schedule: 2. A plan for performing work or achieving an objective, specifying the order and allotted time for each part

I've been trying, I swear, to find time to write a thoughtful blog that pays some homage to my big month of April. Alas, I'm still settling into my new work schedule so this hasn't really happened. (At least not decent enough to be posted.) Or really, instead of that whole "homage" thing, just a blog to keep everyone interested and reading and to keep me from feeling like I abandoned my project altogether. My new for-my-birthday laptop should arrive any day, then I can do this anywhere. (YAY!)

 I'm going to wrangle myself into a new schedule, I swear. For my sanity this should happen soon. Hope everyone is doing just right. Wait until you see the garden! The garden gnomes are selling it growing crack, everything is huge. I hope you all like tomatoes, I fear we may have eighty billion of them....