Grab a pen. We’re going to plan a party.
Really.
This’ll be fun.
What if you planned your life like you would plan the ultimate party?
Wait…. don’t tell me you hate planning parties. That’s probably because you think that you have to invite certain people, serve particular foods and drinks, provide a sparkling evening that will please everyone and clean up the mess when it’s over. Continue reading →
I steeled myself enough to peek over the edge of the covers. Audrey was staring back at me.
“This is kind of late for you, isn’t it Dear? Shouldn’t you be well into the morning’s chapter of reading by now?”
“I know, Audrey. I know. This is late. I’m hiding. I’m playing the role of the ostrich today.”
“I see. So because you received a call with some unsettling news on Saturday, and slumped around in a funk all day Sunday, you think what you really need to do today is sleep in and avoid the rest of the world?”
“Well… yes. I am going to fold my tent. I will fold it neatly and tuck it away. I’ll spend the day in bed with the covers pulled over my head and wait for everything to blow away in the wind.” Continue reading →
She walks in the door after a day of meetings, appointments, disappointments and challenges. Before she pours a glass of red, she puts on her favorite pair of jeans – the ones with the threadbare knees. The cotton has softened with many washings, and now the fabric covering her thighs resembles suede more than denim.
She sits on the couch with her legs curled under her. With each sip of wine, she mulls over the day. As she reviews the interactions she can’t help but think of how she felt during each exchange.
__________
The meeting with her supervisor left her feeling stiff and tense – the same way she feels when dressed for work in a crisply ironed blouse and business suit. There never seems to be room enough to stretch her arms or take a deep breath. A day spent in that suit is a day spent as someone else.
The lunch with her sister was every bit as uncomfortable as the expensive wool sweater her sister had given her last Christmas. The style didn’t fit her. The colors didn’t match anything in her closet. On the rare occasion that she wore the itchy cardigan, she was reminded of how disconnected she and her sister had always been. The scratchy texture of the wool equaled her sister’s insensitivity. Continue reading →
Imagine how sweet this journey would be if we quit second-guessing every one of our decisions. What if we reveled in the things that went well for longer than we stewed over the things that went wrong.
We’d more easily live in the moment, if we quit beating ourselves up over how we mishandled the last moment.
Festering, lingering, dwelling on the difficult does not help us learn the lesson better; it keeps us in a holding pattern and prevents the arrival of new lessons. Continue reading →
“Mom, didn’t you say you were going to take us to a play about Camelot?”
I’d lost the note I’d written. At the beginning of April, I’d discovered a college production of a funny version of King Arthur and Camelot. I’d forgotten to buy tickets and the date was fast approaching. “Will, I’m glad you reminded me. I’ll get online and find out where to get tickets after we get back from the hardware store.”
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We’d gone to Home Depot under the guise of exploring options for a homeowner repair. We came home with a pile of seed packets instead.
They each got to select a couple different packets for their corner of the garden. Jenny selected celosia, forget-me-nots and celery. She doesn’t actually like celery but her imaginary friend does. Will selected a packet of habanero seeds and sweet onions. I picked basil, California Poppies, hollyhocks, and nasturtiums. I’m sure there were more in there. Continue reading →
So you say… that you wish you could find extra hours in the day to maybe carve out a compost pile in the backyard, learn to play the fiddle or compile all those photos into scrapbooks; yet you never miss an episode of your favorite TV show.
So you say… you’d like to do a better job of keeping in touch with friends, but there’s never enough time after work, homework, laundry and dinner, especially with the time you spend on Facebook every night.
So you say… you could cut back on hours at work, if only you could get your budget under control, while spending every Saturday at the mall looking for something to fill the void.
So you say… you’ll be able to slow the family pace a bit, right after the next session of swim lessons. Oh, but there’s another season of soccer coming up and junior has to take soccer with all his buddies.
So you say… you’re going to take this minimalist lifestyle thing seriously, once you buy the shelving to organize all the stuff in storage. Continue reading →
We’d gone in search of lavender fleece. We came home with jewelry making supplies, three unpainted birdhouses in need of jazz, and half a yard of turquoise fleece for, “You know, mom…. more projects.”
The idea was that each of us would paint a birdhouse.
Will and Jen are coming out of that blissful phase of thinking everything they do is fantastic. They are starting to compare their creations to others. But for right now they still relish the act of creating. That means they get out the paints, sit down on the floor and go to it.
Without a plan.
Without first sketching, erasing, sketching again or starting over. Continue reading →
The rainy grey skies gave her permission to sink into the couch.
Leaks were collecting in metal bowls that ran the length of the soggy carpet. She had lined the bowls with paper towels to mute the ping ping as the drips accelerated.
The ping pings soon turned to sploosh splooshes.
The kids would be gone for four hours.
The basket next to the fire was stocked with wood. The fire peaked at her through the glass, giving her its permission. Continue reading →
She could remember when seeing his name in her Inbox made her heart race with excitement. Now seeing his name in her Inbox made her palms sweat. She let the cursor hover over his name. She didn’t want to click to open his email.
She’d have to decide what to write back.
Did she even want to write back?
Being nice was her thing. She’d been supportive. She’d been there. She’d listened and responded.
Was there anything positive coming out of this relationship? If this was positive, why did it feel bad?
Were there healthier places to invest this energy?
Was she opening and answering emails because she was afraid there wouldn’t be another to come along.
She closed her laptop and stared out the window at the park.
__________
Her daughter came up and said, “Mom… are you interruptible? Can I ask you something?”
She looked into her daughter’s blue eyes and found the answer she’d been looking for:
She opened her laptop and deleted his email before opening it.
My breathing is loud. I can hear my heart pounding in my ears. I can’t remember if this is the sixth or seventh lap.
Does it even matter how many times I climb this hill, just as long as I get out here and move?
I get to the top and survey the river. Through the pounding I hear my thoughts:
I head down the hill and wonder if this upcoming birthday could quietly sneak away in the night without anyone in my family doing anything about it. Through huffs and puffs, I laugh at myself because I know it’s not so much about the day, as it is about my perceptions of what it’s like to be turning 50. Continue reading →
Three bags, nine days, and no laptop.
We’re headed off for another adventure.
Jenny has packed her favorite Barbie, a new floppy sun hat, a swim suit and sundresses.
Will is taking his skateboard. I’m concerned he might try to sneak Nina in at the last minute.
I’m packing Sophie’s World by Jostein Gaarder. I’ve had it for a long while. Something tells me it’s time to read it.
The kids plan to go horseback riding, golfing, swimming, hiking and skating. They hope to hang with a mom who doesn’t have her nose in a laptop. I’m going to make sure that happens.
I also plan to walk, read, swim, write in a spiral notebook, and pretend to hit a little white ball with a metal stick and try to avoid saying bad words while doing so.
As I write this post, it is snowing, and that means our timing couldn’t be more perfect. I got to shovel walks this morning, and soon we’ll be boarding a plane to head south – another example of the good being better because of the bad. ;)
If you leave a comment on the blog while I’m away, please know that I’ll reply when I return.
I’ll miss you all.
Happy Spring.
;)
She’ll pick up her school papers and take herself off to her room to work. He has never willingly gone to his room. In fact, when she goes to her room, he follows her and only stops when his nose comes within inches of her closed door.
He walks around the house while brushing his teeth. When he’s in the bathroom, he’s singing. It doesn’t occur to her to sing in the bathroom.
He likes to know what the plan is, what we are going to have for lunch and dinner, and whether we will be having company. She wants to be left to wing-it, she has to be reminded to eat, and she’s cool with not having anyone over for days at a time.
When he’s working on a project, he’ll stop in the middle to brainstorm a new project. She doesn’t think about what’s next, because she’s so deeply immersed in what she’s doing now.
He’s the first to make us laugh with a joke or a funny voice. She’s the first to come up with a new painting technique. Continue reading →
Jenny fixes a too gaudy Barbie dress by altering it. She cuts off the flouncy sleeves and shortens the train. She might use tape or thread or buttons, but she knows she can fix it. She’ll even fix Barbie’s hair with snips here and there.
When the wheels don’t spin fast enough on his skateboard, Will can fix that problem by cleaning the bearings.
I can fix a too-thin sauce in a batch of Chicken and Broccoli Fettuccine by letting the sauce soak into the pasta a bit before serving.
I fix the toilet when it makes that whistling sound. Will fixes the squeaky hinge on the art supply cupboard. Jen fixes a meal of flowers and herbs for her imaginary pony.
Fixing is what we do. Fixing is in our blood. Continue reading →
I walked out of the doctor’s office and ran across the street to the drug store where everyone knew me by name. I was out of Pepcid. I had a box in the bathroom, two in the kitchen cupboard, one in the office desk, and one under the car seat, but the box in my purse was empty.
I had made an appointment hoping to discover a name for this thing that caused me to go through antacids the way a nervous first-year college student goes through cigarettes.
The doctor ruled out pregnancy, gall bladder, and Crohn’s.
Last month, I’d asked my OB-Gyn if it was typical to require a prescription in order to stay married. She said, “Jesse, I think you know the answer.”
Today, in the doctor’s sterile office with the posters advertising the benefits of a healthy lifestyle, I asked, “What now? Do I live on Pepcid for the rest of my life? Is this normal?” Continue reading →
I could have backpacked in Europe for three weeks after I graduated from college.
I didn’t.
My brother did.
My brother backpacked and made memories. He ended one phase of his life with a grand adventure.
He asked mom if he could borrow the money to make the trip. She said, “Of course you can!”
I didn’t.
Oh, I could have… but I thought asking would be an imposition.
Now I know that asking isn’t an imposition when you ask those who care about you.
__________
I wrote a post for the Stratejoy Essay Contest.
I’m asking for your vote.
If you have the time and the inclination, Jen, Will and I would greatly appreciate your vote.
Love,
Jesse
