Unpack Your Adjectives

As I drove Ron to work this morning, we hit crazy traffic about three blocks over. Ron said, “What is going on today?” I realized it was the first day of school, and reminded him to slow down to 20 mph, since we were in the school zone. He was still not convinced it was the whole story, since the rest of the year, traffic is nowhere near as dreadful. I pointed out that a lot of parents take their kids to school on the first day, rather than having them go on the bus, or walk, or go from morning care.

I remember my first day of school ritual with Aubrey that started when she entered 2nd grade. At that time, my ex-husband had custody, but we were still amicable. I picked her up around 7:15am, and we went to Starbucks for hot chocolate and scones. Of course, we’d go to an early breakfast plenty of times throughout the year, but that first one was sacred. She’d be all dressed up in her cute first day clothes, carrying her backpack that weighed twice what she did, with her hair in pony tails, or a French braid, or a headband.

That’s the thing about the first day of school. Everything is new, from ribbons to crayons. Faces are scrubbed fresh, shoes are unscuffed, and socks match. Lunch boxes still have all their pieces and backpack handles are still sewn, rather than broken and tied in a knot. For kids, January 1st has little meaning, but that first day of school holds a world of promise. New teachers, new friends, new things to learn.

I was going to bring Aubrey a chai tea from Starbucks this morning, but the traffic was even worse coming home, and I had a sneaking suspicion that she was still in bed, even though she had to be at work at 10am. I was right, so it was a good thing I came home. Although our ritual is at its end, I know that at some point, she will revive it with her own children.

Now I get to go fight for parking with all the University students as I head to the pool. I have 9 days left until I leave for my trip, so I really want to make that last push to drop another ten pounds. I’ve been surviving on Greek yogurt for the last few days, and I’ll start juicing again this afternoon. Leigh and I have a ton of plans, and I know I’ll feel better and have more energy if I can manage to go down one more size.

Congratulations to all of you parents that survived the summer without eating any of your young. That’s quite the accomplishment.


Vacation, All I Ever Wanted

Yeah, I know, it’s been a while. I’ve been seriously slacking in my writing, but that’s soon about to change. I’m going to Connecticut for TWENTY glorious days in September. I always get a ton of writing done when I’m at Leigh’s, although we have a huge to-do list of technical things that she’d like me to tackle. She’s an early to bed, early to rise kind of person, so I’ll be able to write like a fiend after 9pm. I desperately need a vacation, and honestly, my being out of the house means Ron is kinda on vacation, too. I was thrilled that Leigh invited me to come up even though Aub’s not going to school this year, and that I was able to find really cheap tickets as long as I was willing to fly out of Austin (which I totally am if it means saving $250!).

However, this month I have been BUSY with swimming!!!  I swim three or four times a week, for two hours each time. That’s only a mile for me, but I’m going for strength and endurance, not speed. It seriously helps my fibromyalgia as it’s like I’m giving myself a full body massage. My muscles get warm and loose and I feel so much better afterwards, and that lasts for a day or two. It’s also nice to see my body starting to tone up; I have forearm muscles like you wouldn’t believe. I apparently also have muscles on my ribs that I never knew about, as they are sore as hell right now. I think that’s from the way that I turn at the end of a length, since I can’t quite do a flip turn yet. The one time I tried, I just about drowned myself. The lifeguard even stood up from her chair and was about to jump in. Fortunately, I was able to right myself. That would have been SOOO embarassing!

I think the juicing (I lost a total of 16 lbs and have kept off 13!), my contacts, new hairstyle, new clothes, makeup, and efforts to swim are a manifestation of my mid-life crisis. I can’t afford an overly expensive penis compensator (otherwise known as a convertible sports car), nor do I really want one. Instead of getting a red fiberglass body, I’m getting a new physical body. My ultimate goal is to have a pic decent enough to use as my fb profile pic. Crazy goal, huh?



I’m not the only one suffering from a mid-life crisis, as several of my friends have also mentioned making changes “at this point” in their lives, both my male and female friends that are of my certain age. It’s a sure sign of our personality changes, as we attempt to fit our lives to our new dreams, wants, desires. We prioritize family over work, work at what we love vs. do what pays well, we divorce and remarry…We evolve.

For most of us, our kids are grown, or old enough to not need constant supervision. Some of us have grandkids, others of us are wishing for them. I’m still on the fence on that one…I would love a grandbaby, but I’m not ready for either of my kids to be parents. Matt turned 25 today, so he’s not even a real, whole person yet. Aubrey has a LONG way to go. I can’t believe I had an almost two year old by the time I was her age, and two kids by the time I was Matt’s age. Matt’s willing to commit to a kitten (although he can’t get one because the deposit is ridiculous at his apartment), but not willing to put labels on his relationship. Last night, Aubrey went on her first date in months, so she’s a million miles from kids (I hope!).

That is one thread that appears to be common among my female friends that had their kids around the same time as I did. We all look at our children (whether they are parents or single or whatnot) and lament that they are not as mature as we think we were at their age. Yesterday, Leigh and I were talking about all the stupid shit that we did when we were in our early 20s, and at the same time, we both blurted out that we MARRIED the stupid shit that we did in our 20s.  So yeah, I guess immaturity is a blessing, if it means my kids will have one less divorce under their belt by age 44.

I am really lucky that I adore Matt’s “friend who is a girl.” She’s sweet, very pretty, and knows how to maneuver around his emotional crap. I’ve heard her stand up to him and tell him that he’s not allowed to treat her a certain way…since in his formative years, Matt had an extremely poor role model in how to treat women, he needs someone who will stand up to him and call him out when he is being an ass. I hope this relationship lasts for a while, as she has managed to fill a large portion of the Isaac sized hole in my heart. I’m not ready to go through all the pain and loss again quite yet.

Another aspect of my mid-life crisis is the overwhelming desire for some kind of career. Being disabled is shriekingly hellish for me to deal with, as I tend to go more than a little cabin-crazy. I haven’t had a real “work outside the home” job since January, 2009. Ron constantly reminds me of my limitations as I list out things I’m qualified for. The worst problem is when I’m stressed, I can end up in a fibro flare that lasts for months. It sucks.

All of these new(ish) wants, needs, desires, and demands add up to one big thing; life is going to change. I mean, it changes all the time, but I feel like I’m riding a seismic shift. Fortunately, though, I can say that for the first time in a really long time, I’m in control. Well, I should say that Ron and I are in control, since he’s making changes with me. His career is moving forward, which is going to bring us new opportunities. Who knows where we’ll end up, but I strongly feel that we’ll end up there together. That’s a whole lot better than last year!