Memory Lane

IMG_6135.JPG

My kitchen table is covered in crown making materials for their senior rally tomorrow. I’m not entirely positive that I’m NOT high from all the spray paint smells. I honestly can’t be sure at this point. Mostly because I’m already so, so tired.

We’re also watching Mr & Mrs Smith. Because that’s what you do when you’re up all night working on senior crowns.

 


 

I’ve spent so much time looking at pictures from the past couple months, thanks to Sarah. Besides (AMAZING) senior portraits, she’s also managed to capture some of THE BEST moments of the end of Beezus’ senior year. I love scrolling through them. Basically, that’s all I’ve done for the past few months.

Okay, not ALL that I’ve done.

But YOU GUYS.

I love these turds
I love these turds

IMG_5481.JPG

IMG_5482.JPG

Ooooph. My heart.
Ooooph. My heart.

I just really love these goofs.

And I’m just kinda gonna miss all of the things.

IMG_5838.JPG

IMG_5837.JPG

 

Senior Ball
Senior Ball

We all know that Sarah is a genius, but I don’t think anyone will ever understand how much I love these pictures. Like, I’m super close to being SUPER dramatic about all of it and telling you how they made my life. MADE. MY. LIFE. But I’m not going to do that. Yet.

Even though you all would agree with me. Because come ON with these.

Sutro Baths
Sutro Baths

IMG_5764-0.JPG

IMG_5763.JPG
IMG_5687.JPG

IMG_5762.JPG

But wait, there’s more.

Because then there are family pictures. Family pictures that (yes, as dramatic as it sounds) literally took my breath away. Family pictures that will be on huge canvases in my house because I WILL BE THAT PERSON.

IMG_5759.JPG

By THAT PERSON I mean completely awesome and rad. Because LOOK.

IMG_5835.JPG

I think this one will be OBNOXIOUSLY huge in my front room. Because YES.
But it was this one that stopped me in my tracks. Because these are my babies who aren’t babies. This is a beautiful GORGEOUS picture of my daughters that is so them in some way. The essence? Of them? I CAN’T BELIEVE I JUST SAID THAT EITHER.

IMG_5120.JPG

 


 
It’s 1 in the morning and there are still so many crowns to be made for tomorrow. We just made a midnight run to In n Out, and I already have too many regrets to count.

I’m also legitimately worried about all that they have to do. But not worried enough that I’ve offered to help. I mean, besides driving to In n Out. But…helping? Ugh. Naw.

(I’ll probably help for a minute. I’m a such a sucker.)

 

**I love you, Sarah. Thank you isn’t even enough. But thank you.**

Back in Time

I promised myself that I would get to go to more softball games this year. Afternoon games are hard when you have to leave work SUPER early but this year is important. It’s always important. But you know what I mean.

Today, I got to see my kid play AND somehow I was roped into keeping the scorebook. I haven’t done that in a million years. You can tell by all the mistakes I made. Ha.

IMG_3841.JPG

The games were at my old high school and I’d be lying if I said that it wasn’t a strange walk down memory lane. I mean…that’s where I met my husband. The guy I was standing next to tonight keeping track of runs and strikes and outs – watching our kid play one of her first games of her senior year.

Time is weird, you guys. My kid is the same age I was when I met The Dude. Watching her play softball where we met is just funny.

It was strange and awesome and completely perfect timing.

I’m glad I left work early.

 

Unexpected Gut Punches

“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.

You guys.

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.

mom and kid beach

I’ll be back to normal tomorrow. But if you don’t mind, I’m going to take a break from poetry for awhile.

I was reminiscing just the other day

My kids got Taylor Swift concert tickets for Christmas. It was all they asked for what they really, really, really wanted and swore they didn’t need anything much else. And for reasons I can’t completely explain, there are also two tickets for The Dude and I.

Don’t hate me, but I’m kinda excited.

The past couple of times ‘ol Swifty has been in town, we weren’t able to get tickets. Heaven knows we tried. But there’s a fine balance of wanting to do something for your kids and being able to afford your mortgage payment because the only tickets left by the time you actually get through cost nine million dollars. Being a grown-up is so lame, you guys.

IMG_2610.JPG

With this particular album, we made sure we were on some sort of notification email list-thing that would give us behind the scenes info and the code for presale. (Super technical terms meaning that teenager of mine told us when all the things were happening.) Even knowing all this, getting enough tickets was quite the ordeal. Let’s just say that the two separate ticket buying experiences (there are friends going with us and you could only buy a certain amount of tickets per household) left us all with heart palpitations and PTSD. It also leaves The Dude and I sitting by ourselves (with thousands of other people) so the girls can all sit together and I find this perfectly hilarious.

Timing is a funny thing, though. We’ve been TSwizzle fans for years and years. Yes, I said we. Some of my favorite memories with my girls have been singing TS songs over and over on repeat because they’re the quintessential growing up songs and super fun to sing at the top of your lungs. Even for an alleged grown-up. And this huge concert event in August comes right at a time these girls, and their parents, might need it the most. Because just a couple short weeks later, a few of these girls will be heading off to college where the soundtrack to this next chapter in their life might sound a bit different.

IMG_1847.JPG

IMG_1826.JPG

IMG_1824.JPG

So maybe the title using Taylor Swift song lyrics on yesterday’s post makes the lump in my throat grow into a huge bolder every time I read it. Because obstacles and mountains and expectations and goals and dreams and surviving and hoping that everything will be okay and then getting to a point where we’re more than okay. But also because these girls are the epitome of all the Taylor Swift albums, as silly and cliche as it sounds. They’re young and hopeful and scared and excited. These girls, man. They’re crashing through walls, moving mountains, making magic, fighting dragons and having the time of their lives. And all of this just…fits somehow and the timing is perfect.

The long and winding road

I mean, I can do math. But it’s hard to believe I’ve worked for the same company for this many years. I was 19 when I started. My baby was just a couple months old. I had been married for only a few weeks. 1997 was a really busy year for this jerk. Time is freaking flying. Blah, blah, blah.

I think I’ve earned this long weekend.

IMG_2924.JPG

I couldn’t keep myself from making promises

I don’t really want to talk about resolutions. I didn’t really make any. But what I AM trying to get better at is making long and short-term goals for myself and for my family. I want to learn how to focus on the small aspects of a much bigger picture. The baby steps toward a big dream instead of tripping over my own insecurities and life’s roadblocks.

During the Great Broken Blog of 2014 I let a lot of things go here. I don’t know that I needed the break, I think I had just made it way too hard. It was much easier to hide behind the brokenness. The fixing of all things broken reminded me how much I like it here.

So while I didn’t make any resolutions, I did make a promise to myself and how I wanted to keep track and remember this year. Some people keep jars that they fill up with memories or good times, I just now have my little space here. Again.

But if I was keeping a jar? This picture would be the second thing I put in there. (The first being the picture from yesterday.) And in some way, I would try to explain how much I love that she still loves taking pictures with me and being silly with me. Loving that she is one of my favorite humans and knowing that I just might be one of hers, too.

Me and Beezus NYE
Me and Beezus NYE

Please know that I might suck at this new way of doing things. But that’s not gonna stop me from trying. Not anymore. If it’s pictures, if it’s words…it doesn’t matter. There is just way too much I want to remember.