Turns out that if I don’t have a goal to post every weekday, I don’t really post much at all. So. New month. New goals. New weekdays.
And it’s already past midnight on the first day and I haven’t posted yet.
I’ve got my work cut out for me.
I’ve been training for a half marathon. I briefly mentioned it before, but I don’t think I’ve said anything since. I think that’s mostly because I keep up with my running stuffs on Cap City Moms.
But here’s the thing: right now I’m awake WAY too late and I know that I will still get up in the morning because my running pals will be waiting for me. Those dang running pals of mine that keep me accountable and, well, help me to train better than I have in a REALLY long time. I’m stupid proud of us.
We ran 12 miles last weekend. And nothing about that run was easy. I mean, it never is. But that 12 mile run was mentally difficult. And I wanted to give up A LOT.
But I didn’t. I didn’t give up and we finished and I’m high-fiving all of us still.
Not long ago, I bought a slate heart to hang on the wall. I had no plans on doing so, but sometimes you go to JoAnne’s for very specific heart shaped supplies and then you soon realize that it’s the day after Valentine’s Day and you’re an idiot.
So a heart-shaped slab of slate it is.
I thought of all the bad words I could write on it.
But before any questionable language could be written with the (not at all cheap) chalk pens, it served its purpose for our Disney game night. Our Villaintines Party, if you will.
But after Valentine’s/Villaintine’s Day weekend, all bets were off.
Then, it became something else entirely.
I’ve raised my children the way I was raised: we speak movie quotes fluently. And so the great movie quote heart of sarcasm, wit and, sometimes, inspiration came to be.
Sometimes it was all three.
I’d like to think that we all pay attention to these in some way or another. I’d like to think the we all get the subtle hint of: You can do this. Don’t give up. With a heavy dose of twin-eating sarcasm, of course.
Okay, but mostly the not giving up part and that they’re totally badass part:
I guess I just hope that they see the quotes and they know that I’m paying attention. Being a kid/teenager/person is hard.
These kids of mine do a bang up job of it. They almost make it look easy.
I need to remember to tell them that I know that it isn’t and how proud of them I am.
“Life is a balance of holding on and letting go.” ~ Rumi
We were just on the phone with my uncle to plan a camping trip for the summer. We chatted about the college process, catching him up with the latest news and updates. We still don’t know very much (man, they make you wait) but we told him what we did know. He talked about his experience with his kids. It’s so different now, but was still quite the ordeal back then.
When his youngest, my cousin and his only daughter, was making big college decisions, he wrote her poem. How he has it handy, I don’t know but he read it to The Dude and I over the phone tonight.
It gutted me. He finished reading it and I had to walk out of the room.
I hate talking about this without being able to share the poem, but it’s not mine to share.
During a phone call to plan camping trips, I wasn’t expecting to be completely ruined by a poem. It came out of nowhere and punched me in all of the feels.
I keep thinking that I’m doing better with all of this. I actually have excited and happy thoughts about her college experience and decisions. I’m fine! All is well! Until I go to a basketball game on senior night and realize that I’ll have to go to my own senior’s night in a few months for softball. Or my uncle reading a poem about kids leaving home and I’m completely and totally destroyed. I don’t want to be an annoying person who can’t move past things. I expect eye-rolling and “holy crap get over yourself” and don’t worry, I’m totally saying those things to myself, too.
But every once in awhile, the punches to the gut knock the wind out of me.
I’ll be back to normal tomorrow. But if you don’t mind, I’m going to take a break from poetry for awhile.
With the five of us kids, our spouses, nine grandchildren, my parents and (often) my grandmother, a typical family dinner looks like we’re having a frat party with kids and no beer. It is wall to wall chaos in the best possible of ways. We are loud and obnoxious so that we’re heard over the steady noise of laughing and kids playing. More often than not, we speak in movie quotes so it can often be difficult to follow one of our conversations if you’re not well-versed in a Goonies, Princess Bride, Anchorman, Drop Dead Fred and most Disney movies that have ever been created kind of language. It’s like we created our own version of pig-Latin. With A LOT more sarcasm and obscure So I Married an Axe Murderer references.
Unfortunately, due to a virus that knocked them down, my parents weren’t able to be at our house on Saturday night. We missed them dearly and promised that we wouldn’t have any fun or belly-laughs without them. We’re terrible liars and they saw through the bullshit, but at least we made an attempt. We tried to be as boring and unfunny as possible. But we just so happen to be REALLY bad at boring and unfunny when we’re all together. I mean, according to our own selves.
As it usually happens, we got to the point where we can’t breathe due to the laughing as we end up telling stories about when we were kids and incredibly dumb. Since there’s a bit of an age gap between my sisters and I and our younger brothers, we inevitably tell a story that they’ve never hear or don’t know very much about. And, of course, at some point, there is a story told that I have no recollection of because I can’t seem to fit ALL the memories in my head. (Even if the story involves me saving my sister’s life. Nothing. NO memory of such things.) The broken handlebar/bike crashing/friend riding over my sister story was, hands down (bike down?) the favorite of the night.
That doesn’t sound funny at all when I write it that way. Just trust me. It is.
At some point in the night, a discussion came up about swearing in front of your children. I have a black belt in swearing in front of my children, but I do try not to swear in front of my nieces and nephews. SOMETIMES. But since we were talking about swearing in front of our OWN kids, my daughter, of course, says something about how I used to be better about it.
I said, “Yeah. Apparently I used to care a lot more. NOW? F*ck it.”
What are, WORDS THAT I’VE NEVER SAID IN FRONT OF MY GRANDMOTHER, ALEX.
In fact, it’s not a word I (generally) use in front of my family. No really, I’m being honest. And while I was peripherally aware that my grandmother was right there, I don’t think all of my brain had really thought that sentence through.
My husband swears he’s never seen my grandma laugh so hard.
But this might be the last time we’re all allowed to gather without parental supervision. Some of us can’t be trusted.
As you can imagine, or guess from all my complaining, feeling better after all this dental crap hasn’t gone as smoothly as I would like. It has taken A LOT out of me. I’m just beat. All the time. (More than usual. And that’s saying something.) Since I expected the big Christmas tooth pull was the worst of it, I honestly thought I would be back to my old ways in no time. I couldn’t have been more wrong. With absolutely zero down time, I’m afraid that the recovery from the latest dental adventure was even worse than the one before. A little over two weeks out and I’m FINALLY not wincing in pain every time I yawn or eat or sneeze or (attempt) to brush my teeth. Eating can still be a challenge, but at least I’m doing better.
I also got myself a Monster’s Inc kiddie toothbrush because that’s how I roll.
(I needed a smaller toothbrush to handle the affected area. My dentist thought this might work better. Hilarious that when she pulled a couple from the drawer, I belted out “Sully!” when I saw it. Because I’m a grown-ass lady who knows what she wants out of life.)
Being so run down, it was nice that this weekend could be so low-key. The much needed rain gave us a perfect excuse to hunker down at home for most of the weekend. There were still things to get done (of course) but the four of us watched two movies on Saturday and one on Sunday. No really. I’m not lying. We actually did that.
Miraculously, we also left the house. We hung out at my sister’s house for a little bit on Saturday. We had dinner with some of our favorite people on Sunday. Sarah and I even participated in a local running event. Which was awesome, but…yeah. My training schedule is suffering most of all with all this recovery crap. I’m a little worried about it since we’re in the middle of our half marathon training. THIS COULD BE INTERESTING. Hopefully I’m back to it soon.
I’m trying to work out a better schedule over here. I loved looking back over January. LOVED. I want more of that. As proud as I am of posting here so much more, I’m struggling to do the same in February. I guess that when you give yourself an out, you take it. Or *I* take it. I’m a jerk.
But more than anything, I just want to remember. The good, the bad, even the indifferent. 10 days into February and I’m more tired than I ever expected, but there was fun to be had anyway. And lots of coffee. Because, duh.
I’m finally (FINALLY) done with jury duty. The trial isn’t actually over as of yet so I should be shutting up about pretty much everything. But being an alternate, I am not part of deliberation. And as glad as I am that it is over, I’m a tiny bit frustrated to not see it through. I WANT TO KNOW WHAT HAPPENS. What’s the end of the story and all that?
I’m actually going to be good and not say a word about how I would’ve voted. You know, to avoid jail time. FOR NOW. It just seems like a good idea.
Okay, I’m not exactly sure if I could get jail time but just stop trying to get me to say something. You’re a bad influence. Stop trying to send me to jail.
I have big plans for life after jury duty. I fully intend on NOT driving 30 minutes in the OPPOSITE direction of work and regular life to get to the courthouse. I plan on NOT listening to arrogant council plead their case. I’m AM going avoid listening to strangers and their dirty laundry. (Soooooo Awkward.) I am also going to remember how grateful I am for my family because OH MY HELL YOU GUYS.
* * *
I feel like I’ve been complaining so much about jury duty, my ouchie mouth…too much going on, not feeling well, etc. I mean, jury duty just begs for complaining. Dental work, same. NOT BEING ABLE TO EAT WHAT YOU LIKE, duh. But I also know how lucky I am. I’m grateful I have access to a dentist and insurance to get this all fixed. I’m grateful for a legal system that handles such things. I’m grateful I get the weekend off to chill out and rest.
But to make up for all the complaining, here’s Paisley.
She likes you. And she thinks your hair looks nice.
I took a couple days off journaling and posting. If I’m being honest it’s because I was avoiding all the feelings that sometimes come with writing. I’m not quite ready for all that but when I was gathering up some of my favorite January moments on Cap City Moms, I realized I had quite a few to mention over here.
January was good. Some tough moments (dental jury drama), but good. It flew by and I can’t believe it’s already Groundhog Day. But here we are with six more weeks of winter. You know, if winter had actually shown up in these parts.
I’m kinda proud for me (mostly) sticking to a “post every weekday” schedule. Having a functional website totally helped. (Thanks again, Husband!!!) Yes, I missed (or skipped) a few days but I’m not holding my feet to the fire for all that. I set out to remember this year and I’m doing just that.
Although, I started writing this post two days ago and yet here we are. Just now posting. Apparently I can’t be a responsible adult this week. Or any week.
I should hit publish before I get distracted. Clearly I’m winning life right now.
I am so tired of only being able to chew on one side of my mouth.
I’m also tired of being the dental patient that defies normal practices.
Not on purpose, obviously. But if a procedure is supposed to take 20-30 minutes, you can be sure the same procedure will take 45 minutes to an hour with me. Or if it’s very unlikely for someone to have more than 3-4 roots per tooth, I will have FIVE. (And they will be impacted. Freakishly long roots! Kinda like the freakishly long legs I’ve been known to have!)
Long story, short: stupid and dumb tooth turns into a (complicated) root canal turns into a stupid and dumb broken tooth turns into broken tooth with stupid and dumb infection…stupid and dumb tooth must come out.
Fast forward to the Monday before Christmas and the extraction of stupid and dumb tooth.
There must be something about me or my information that just BEGS to be summoned for jury duty. My personal data must be like the civic duty kick me sign that I unwittingly wear so proudly for all court clerks to see. Don’t be jealous, but I am summoned for jury duty, like clockwork, every two years. Sometimes even 18 months when those court clerk computers are feeling especially kicky.
I’ve only served on two trials, but that’s two more than most people I know.
Surely I’ve just jinxed myself. I’m sitting in a stairwell as they call potential jurors. If I erase that sentence will I be dismissed without question?
Side Note: I just saw a woman carrying The Goldfinch. Excellent choice for a long day of waiting.
* * *
It’s been 12 hours since I wrote the beginning of this post. I’m a ginormous idiot. Yes of course I was chosen AT THE VERY LAST MINUTE to be an alternate on a 3-ish week case. YOU KNEW THAT WAS COMING.
I’m trying to look at the silver lining but I just spent a Thursday stuck in a courtroom AND THEN the radiator in my car busted. ::sob:: (I can’t make this shit up, folks.)
But my super-hero husband fixed the radiator and I’m trying to rearrange my life to accommodate jury duty, etc.
(He wins, though. I mean FIXED RADIATOR YOU GUYS.)
My goal for tomorrow is to not fall asleep during opening arguments and to not inflict bodily harm to anyone that is being an idiot. (That’s frowned upon in a courtroom…even if they deserve it.)
I’m also going to try and find a better attitude before walking into the super ancient courthouse. I’m not entirely sure this will happen, but it makes me feel good about myself that I’m even trying. Everything. Will. Be. Okay