Fresh Start....Tomorrow.

I awoke today with purpose.  I was ready to get my life back on track.  To get my health pulled together.  To start fresh.

I got up a little late - not too big a deal. Slightly rushed but not panicked.  I started to make myself some breakfast.  Hmmm. Bagels but no cream cheese. Cereal but no milk. Ok, ok, some days are like that. No big deal.  I decided that I was going to take my vitamins to get a good start on the day and to renew my health.  

Twenty minutes later I was throwing up in the library parking lot next to my car which, coincidentally, has the name of our business emblazoned all over it.  Nice.

I can't really recall the last time I threw up - thank goodness.  It's just awful, isn't it? When I was pregnant with Max I threw up ALL the time. I mean like 20-25 times a DAY. I got to the point where I could throw up anywhere at anytime and just keep moving.  I also got to the point where Joe would refuse to take me out to dinner because it was "a waste of money".  

But enough about that. I am not deterred. Still a little woozy, but not deterred.

One of the vitamins that I, ahem, relieved myself of this morning was a fish oil pill roughly the size of a baby's arm. The reason that I was taking a fish oil pill was because Joe suggested it. That conversation went a little something like this:

Joe: "Ok, here are the turnip greens I told you about. You can take them to her whenever."

Julie: "Turnip greens? Who am I taking them to?"

Joe: "Seriously? We talked about this yesterday. How can you not remember talking about this? I think you may have early dementia or something. Maybe you need to go to the doctor for help with this or maybe you should take some fish oil."

Let me clarify. My brain is at full capacity and yet more information (that I'm expected to retain) comes in every day. I need to remember to review homework, pack the lunches, make dinner, pick up the house, feed the animals, set up the MD appointments, go to the MD appointments, send out birthday cards, buy birthday gifts, pay the bills, balance the checkbook, worry about Christmas shopping, figure out Halloween costumes, remember where I'm supposed to be for Thanksgiving this year, watch the kids put on yet another trampoline "show", mow the lawn, clean the front porch, deliver produce, give the dog a bath (while she tries to bite me), go to the bank, get the groceries and cook dinner.

Joe has to take the garbage out on Fridays and sometimes he forgets.  And I need the fish oil?

Whatever Happened to Laura Ingalls Wilder?

I am a winter person. I'm at my happiest when the air is crisp, the leaves are falling and the smell of a bonfire is in the air. The other day, when I didn't have to work, I stayed at home all day. I got the house clean (ish), I had fresh bread baking and I had some chili on the stove. I had a nice fire burning in the wood stove and the house was warm and fragrant. This is my time of year.

Though I am prone to place Ms. Laura Ingalls Wilder on a pedestal every now and again I can't say that it's totally without warrant. And, to be fair, I'm really placing the idea on the pedestal and not the actress and TV series. How cool would that lifestyle have been? Nobody rushing out the door to get to work on time, no cell phones, no TV. Just time to keep your house in order, cook good food for your family and spend time together. No, I am not forgetting the fact that they could have been eaten by wolves or bears or some other creature at any time, I'm just not talking about that right now.

I get that it would have been hard. Really hard. That little log cabin could NOT have been warm. And why did they always have to sleep with those bonnet things on? It couldn't be related to the vanity of how their hair looked because I never saw them bathe. Not once. Ewww.

But still...I would've been cool with riding the horse drawn wagon to town. I would've been good with the one room schoolhouse as well. The kids always looked so happy as they trotted off to school with their little, tin lunch pails (I'm going to check Ebay for one of those - how quaintly nostalgic). I never did understand how they got to school on time seeing that it was like a 10 mile trip one way, but whatever, it worked.

Even the dresses were cool. How nice would it be not to have to worry about what to wear all the time. They had all of two dresses and one for fancy stuff. That along with the one pair of shoes would have gotten me out of the door a LOT faster. Still, I think I would leave the bonnet thing behind...

Homework

With the return of fall, homework is upon us once again.  I’m 41 years old and I still hate homework.  How is that possible?  And it seems like its harder now than it ever was.  Zoe came home last night with two books on bottlenose dolphins and said that she needed to do a report.  When I asked a few more questions I realized that she actually WANTED to do the report - it was not assigned, she just wanted to do it. Huh.

Max is a totally different story.  He had math homework last night that was just plain unbelievable.  I’m not sure who was more frustrated – him or me (although based on his screaming and writhing on the floor I'll assume it was him).  I have never liked math and I’ve never been good at it.  Unfortunately, Max ended up with that “bad at math” gene.  Last night’s homework was weights and measures.  Seriously?   My mind just does not comprehend that stuff nor do I see a real need for it. I mean really, we all have calculators now right?  We even have solar calculators so we won’t be lost during a power outage.  Not sure why I’d need to do calculations during a power outage but the fact remains that I could.

The night before Max brought home his math homework and it was all story problems.  I could feel all the breath whoosh out of me when he set it down in front of me.  “Mom, I just don’t get any of these", he said.  I turned the paper towards me, took a deep breath and started making crap up.  Really I wasn’t making it up so much as forcing him to figure it out by “pretending” that I didn’t understand it.  My pretending is VERY convincing, by the way.  Last week he asked for help with his math homework and it was fractions.  My absolute nemesis. Who does anything with fractions anymore?  If I ever have the need to utilize fractions it’s for cooking or baking and I can usually add ½ + ½ pretty well.  I actually had to Google “common denominators” and “fraction tutoring”.  Not exactly a show of confidence for a kid who is struggling.

Now my beloved husband, who is actually good at math, was no better with the homework.  You either get math or you don’t.  He does and I don’t.  Putting those two types of people together is a BAD idea.  I asked him to help Max the other night and when I came back to check on them he was yelling at Max, “HOW MANY TIMES DOES 42 GO INTO 53?  HOW MANY TIMES DOES 42 GO INTO 53?  How can you not get that???” 

Much like speaking to someone who doesn’t speak your language, speaking more loudly truly doesn’t help.

Is That a SPOT?

Ah the first day of school. Excitement is high, parents are relieved and everyone is packed and ready to go.  Zoe took the time to lay out her outfit the night before the first day of school.  She had the shirt, the pants, the socks, the shoes and even the hair accessories.  Max simply shoved a pair of shorts in my face and said, “Do these stink?”

In the morning all was going according to plan until… I heard a shriek coming from the bathroom and instinctively ran towards it thinking that someone was hurt. Upon entering the bathroom I found Zoe, near tears, staring at her shirt. “What’s wrong?” I asked.

“Don’t you see it??” she asked, incredulous.

“See what, sweetie?”

“My shirt!!! It has a spot on it!” She was creeping ever closer to hysteria at this point so I leaned in to take a closer look at the nefarious spot that was threatening to ruin our day.

“Honey? Sweetie? It looks kind of like a water spot to me.”

“I know” she cried, “what am I going to do??”

“Ummm, well, just throwing this out there, but we could dry it.”

“Why bother?? It’s ruined!!” and she stomped off to change her shirt.

Ok, wow. You’d think that someone had covered the kid from head to toe in boiling acid.  She freaked out over a WATER spot?  Are you kidding me??  I’ve left the house with far worse spots than that and haven’t given it a second thought.

Today we had a clothing issue (which actually began last night and continued this morning) about which shoes would be most appropriate with the outfit that she had laid out for the day. Down to the shoelaces - “Sparkly or purple, which do you think looks better?” OMG

By contrast, Max came home wearing his shirt inside out the other day. When I asked why his shirt was inside out he said, “Oh, I had to wear it for gym class and it got kind of sweaty so I just flipped it.” That’s my boy.

Swim. Bike. Run (or walk...)

I ran a triathlon yesterday. Well, it was a mini triathlon, but that still counts. The fact is that I swam, biked and ran consecutively for a good long while so that qualifies. Honestly, I never ever thought I would be able to say that I had done it. I wasn’t really even sure that I could do it. I kept asking, “What if you can’t finish?” My sister Kelly, ever the avid supporter kept replying, “You can’t quit.”

In fact, that turns out to be a lie. You can quit. Like if your bike tire explodes or you trip during the run. Halfway through the 10.7 mile bike ride I was wishing my tire would explode so I could just end the thing. I tried to be strong for the volunteers who were there to cheer us on and direct us but by the time I got to the last volunteers I was only able to gasp out “How much farther?”  I think they were a little taken aback…

The swim part was also a little trickier than I expected. There is definitely a moment of panic at the beginning of it all. Lots of arms and legs and bodies everywhere make it difficult to get your bearings. Plus, I’m a crappy swimmer. Luckily, there were rescue boats in the water you could cling to if you needed a break. Yeah, I stopped at the first one, so what? Actually, there were about 5 of us who stopped at the first boat and the poor guy in the boat looked a little nervous. We all grabbed one end and probably could’ve sunk the thing in our panicked state. I had visions of the guy hitting us over the head with the oars and screaming, “Let go!!”

The run part was fine because it was in the woods where no one could see you so I just walked it. Of course, I was able to pull it together and run the last 100 yards or so to cross the finish line but that was just for show. They had a water station in the woods where you’re supposed to run by and grab one of the waters that are being held out for you. I mastered the grabbing part but couldn’t drink it because I was moving and it was all running down the front of my shirt. Well of course, in hindsight, it occurred to me that I could have stopped.

I think the hardest part of the race though might have been the transition from swimming to biking. Imagine that you’re all wet from swimming, you’re exhausted and you’ve still got a LONG way to go, people are all around you watching, yelling and cheering and you’re trying to put on bike shorts. With wet legs. That is something I would rarely attempt in the privacy of my own bedroom but here I was fighting the good fight in public. I suppose though, there comes a time in every gal’s life where you just have to do what you have to do. And I did.

Summer Softball

I have signed up to coach my daughter’s summer softball team. I did not sign up to coach because I’m an excellent softball coach with years of experience and vast amounts of softball knowledge. No. I signed up because no one else did. I’m cool with that.

Our first game (a double header, no less) was last night. Great fun really. I ended up with a team of kids whose parents are AWESOME! Everyone was ready to jump in and help out. Fantastic! Especially since I have no idea what I’m doing.

When our girls were on the field I kept yelling out “Throw it to first base”. Joe called me over to the fence and discreetly whispered “The play isn’t at first. You want them to force an out at second or third base to stop the run.” Oh. Ok. Well then, I guess I know even less than I thought I knew. How is that even possible?? Still, I feel that the point was slightly moot since we don’t even keep score…

The kids were so darn cute. Trying to remember all of their names – no so much. Everyone kind of looks the same in a pink shirt and a batting helmet. Luckily the parents were on the sidelines cheering for whoever was nearest the ball, which helped with name recognition immensely.

In the 2.5 hours we were on the field, my daughter took 3 bathroom breaks. I’d look out to right field, where I’d put her, and she was gone. Then I’d see her standing in line at the porta potti. Note to self – fewer water breaks.

All in all, I think it went well. I doubt very much that I’ll be coaching the big leagues anytime soon but I did at least recruit a parent to send around a snack sheet. My work here is done.

To My Beloved Followers

Who am I kidding? Mom and Dad, thanks for still checking in with my blog even though I haven't posted for months. Geesh. The chaos of summer has gotten the best of me already and its only just begun.  But ok, buckling down now.

The kids are officially out of school and I'm midway through a REALLY packed week-end. Went to see "Cats" at the Wharton Center today, which ended with a fire alarm going off and us evacuating the theater and then on to a graduation party. Just getting home with Zoe who is now sick to her stomach. That's kind of what happens when your dinner consists of 14 brownies and a carrot. Of course bouncing all night on the trampoline didn't help much either.

Regardless, we're home, she's in bed, and I'm sorry to have been such a slacker on my blog. More to come in a few days. Thanks for hanging in there with me.

Happy Summer!

Julie