The two-year mark

 

Two years ago, I was at the hospital, trying to wrap my head around the news that my husband was gone. There was no warning, no way of possibly knowing that he would just collapse, and that the doctors would never be able to revive him. 

How does a person who is so full of life, one who had been such a huge part of my life for more than 20 years, just suddenly cease to exist? It makes no sense. 

I was chatting with a friend today, when she mentioned I've basically been through ten years' worth of changes in the past two. That sounds accurate. I feel like I have aged at least ten years in the last two or three. 

I am mostly okay. During the first year or so after his death, my most common response to "How are you?" was to say that I was "Okay-ish." Not completely okay, but -ish. I'm not saying that there aren't people out there who want honest, genuine responses when they ask someone how they are doing, but I tend to feel like a lot of people say it because it's part of the script that we have been socialized to follow. A lot of people could use "How are you?" and "Hi" interchangeably, and they are thrown off by honest, open responses. On that same note, even if I did feel like the person asking me really wanted to know, I'm not exactly willing to unleash all my woes and vulnerabilities in the pet food aisle at the Dollar General. So, the most honest, genuine response I could usually give was "Okay-ish." 

I am proud to say that I have changed my standard response to "Okay" most of the time. That feels like an upgrade to me. I tend to save most of my pity parties for my therapist, anyway.

A lot has happened in these past two years. Food once tasted like sawdust, but I can appreciate it again. I finished my master's degree. When I received the actual degree in the mail, I felt nothing. I put it back in its little box and set it on a pile of junk mail. I pretended it wasn't there for a long time, because nothing about my life seemed like it was the way it was supposed to be at the time. I eventually unboxed the damn thing, and set it on a shelf at my desk, where it sometimes even makes me feel a little good to look at it. I did that. I had to trudge through a lot of grief, trauma, and brain fog to earn that damn piece of paper. But by the skin of my teeth, and down to the last possible day to submit my research project, I did it. 

And then I rewarded myself with a puppy. 

I finally got a job, but it's not anything like what I was hoping to do with my degree. The job is remote, so I am saving a ton on clothing, fuel, and food. The pay is insulting, but the fact that pants aren't required almost makes it all worth it. I also enjoy not having to face people every single day, even if I sometimes feel like more forced socialization would probably be good for me. 

I started a knitting/crochet/whatever group at my local library. We meet once a week, most weeks, and make stuff. I have met some fantastic, talented people there. 

I learned how to unclog a sink. I also learned that I had never actually taught my youngest daughter what she can and cannot put down the drain. I guess she and I both learned stuff that day. 

Meanwhile, the world has continued to spin. My heart has continued to beat. Everyone and everything is changing and evolving the way it's supposed to. And I am left to restructure a completely different future than the one I was looking forward to just two years and one day ago. The heavy sense of emptiness left by David's absence is still there, but I am getting a little better at carrying it. I don't imagine you ever truly get over a loss like this, but you learn to build and grow around it. We are meant to keep growing anyway, even when it's hard. Even when we don't want to. Learning about ourselves and the world around us, and the resulting growth, is a part of living. 

If losing David has taught me anything, it's that tomorrow is never promised. If you can find happiness and a sense of purpose in life, chase it, grab it, and hold onto it with everything you've got. Many days, I can even convince myself that this is true. 

I'll get there. 

Grief Toasters and Organizational Clutter

    Nearly ten months before I lost my husband unexpectedly, I lost my mom unexpectedly. I have no idea how I will truly recover from either loss. I am learning you don't exactly *recover* from losing some of the most important people in your life, but instead you just sort of get better at carrying the good memories and the sad feelings with you. Always. 

    Losing my mom was devastating and caught us completely off guard. We knew she had been sick. She'd had a medical emergency months before which resulted in needing multiple blood transfusions. They told her she had a fatty liver. They even charted that they told her she had a fatty liver. They also charted that she, in fact, had advanced cirrhosis of the liver. Nothing about her lifestyle would have ever caused anyone to come to that conclusion. We were informed of her actual condition hours before she died, seven months after they had diagnosed it themselves. We knew she was sick. We kept trying to get her into the doctor, but they kept rescheduling her appointments or doing them via video call. 

    There is a LOT more to that story, but I'm just going to sum it up with this clip:

I'm convinced that IS their technical name.

    So, we finally get her in to see a doctor, the doctor takes one look at her and sends her to the ER. They run a bunch of tests and decide to keep her overnight. We are called the next morning and are informed of her actual condition. And they told us as if we should have already known. And then she is dead by that evening. Just. Like. That. I need to get to my point. I'm starting to feel agitated again. 

    SO...I remember leaving the hospital with David. I remember having to stop at some shitty little gas station mini mart that was still open to try to buy something that my youngest needed. But I don't remember if I slept that night. Or how I slept that night. I was in complete shock. I must have slept at some point, because I remember waking up that next morning and, a few minutes later, remembering that my mom was dead. I felt like I was suddenly bowled over by this wave of confusion, disbelief, and shock with no sense of control or even an understanding of which way was up. David was next to me and the first thing I said to him that morning was, "I need to buy a new toaster." I don't remember exactly why I was so concerned about a toaster at that moment. Sure, our toaster was cheap and old. It seemed to have a direct line of communication with our smoke detector no matter how well we cleaned it. I had probably been bitching about that thing for months already. My best guess is that, with all the things I was feeling, all the control I did not feel like I had, I knew a toaster was something that I could control. While I was faced with a lot of terrible things, I didn't have to live with a shitty toaster anymore. 

    I finally ended up ordering a toaster on Amazon. It had a giant window in it so you could see the bread change color as it toasted. That seemed AMAZING to me. I was excited to get to watch my toast get toasted in real time. I think that excitement lasted for approximately two pieces of toast. And while it's still a pretty good toaster after nearly two years, it takes up way too much counter space and I still think of losing my mom when I look at it. Methinks it might be time to replace my grief toaster. 

    Since I lost David a little over 13 months ago, I have learned a lot about "widow's brain" and some of my temporary limitations. A substantial amount of fog has already lifted and I am already so much better than I was just six months ago. In what I can only assume is an attempt to straighten things out in my head and my life, I have started to buy storage bins and baskets in what I consider to be unreasonable amounts. I mean, it's really only unreasonable to me because I have not been able to use most of them yet. I have plans though. Big plans. I just have to be able to remember them. I should probably also admit that I have just purchased my third planner for this year. Planners can be very helpful in helping keep things straight, but aren't quite so effective if you forget they exist and fail to open them. Ask me how I know that. 

    More and more each day, I am learning that getting one's shit together after losing a spouse is a marathon, not a sprint. Actually, it's more like running a series of marathons with one shoe missing and no clear parameters.

Am I still going the right way? Am I even in the race anymore? Why does everything hurt? And where did all these plastic baskets come from?

Change of Plans

    I received a planner as a gift from David this past Christmas. It was actually one of the items on my wish list. After 20 years of marriage, we were finally learning how to buy gifts for each other without beating ourselves up about it. The holidays are stressful enough, amiright?

    The day after Christmas, I stayed up late into the night filling out an entire years' worth of things including softball tournaments, birthdays, appointments, etc. This particular planner even has a place for weekly, monthly, and quarterly goals, time management, gratitude, mind maps, etc. It basically had all the bells and whistles that could appease the overwhelmed neurodivergent hot mess that typically am, at least for awhile anyway. I was going to start my year off RIGHT. 2023 was going to be the year I completed my master's degree and began working, as well as the start of the senior year of high school for our youngest daughter. I knew I needed to be more proactive and organized if I didn't want to end up feeling like I was drowning in the details. 

    Four days after Christmas, David passed away unexpectedly and the world just sort of stopped. Time was suddenly a social construct I couldn't care less about. The planner was in my purse, ready to help me navigate the new year, but I couldn't even bring myself to look at it. In fact, that planner's very existence made me angry. Three days after I filled that planner out with all the hope and excitement for the year to come, none of it seemed to matter anymore. The person who filled out that planner no longer existed and there was no way in the world I felt like I could relate to her. That woman seriously had no clue. 

    For months, that freaking planner has been sitting on a little side table in my dining room practically taunting me by reminding me of all I've lost. All the plans that will never be.

    In that time, I managed to finish my research project and complete my degree. That was brutal. Forcing myself to focus on something that intense while grieving only made me more scatter-brained and more easily frustrated, with brain fog that was sometimes so thick I couldn't even make a grocery list. Have you ever tried to teach a toddler long-division? That has to be what it was like for my professor to support me through all that. The Zoom calls ended up being more like therapy sessions than anything. 

    And there sat that planner, where I could always see it but barely stand to. 

    I filled out piles of paperwork (some with help, especially on the days were I could barely write my own name and birth date without making a mistake), and I started to accept that I could take charge of my life and what it will look like moving forward. 

    But that damn planner remained untouched.

    I then turned around and bought myself another planner, but this one was for one day at a time. That seemed to be more realistic for my foggy, salty, widow's brain as it was. This one even helped me track my meals and water consumption! (And fitness and errands and gratitude..... but let's not get too carried away, K?) 

        A few weeks ago, with more than half of the calendar year behind me, I finally opened up the damn planner and decided to try to use it again. A lot has happened...and not happened...in those months that I have tried to pretend they didn't exist, that the damn planner itself didn't exist. I guess I am coming to terms with the fact that some birthdays, anniversaries, and other plans will not have the same meaning or ever bring the same joy that they once had. And while it will never be *okay*, it will always be. I can't change that. And if I begin to utilize these planners effectively, they can help me take control of all the parts of my life I still have left. 

    Maybe it's time for me to go back to basics and give myself little congratulatory pats on the back in the form of brightly colored stickers and writing down the things I do accomplish. Some days those little wins might look like making phone calls I have been dreading or brushing my teeth and putting on real pants. Other days, getting out of bed requires so much effort that a parade should probably be thrown in my honor. (No, don't do that. I actually despise parades. Sitting on a curb or on a fold chair, watching people walk or ride by? I don't get it.) My capabilities and attention span are about as consistent as Oklahoma weather, but ya gotta start somewhere, right? 

    Plans can change, people can die, and life as we know it can feel like it completely implodes. But I'm still here. Life, for the most part, still feels very much like an abandoned beach in January.... foggy, salty, and empty. But I feel like some of the fog has lifted a little and I need to begin to try to look around at the wreckage and see what I have left to work with. I may not have a lot of days where I feel accomplished, be it in my career (that has yet to begin) or personal hygiene. But I'll be damned if I don't give myself some credit when I do. 

    Not to brag, but I plan on brushing my teeth later...

Shells

    I'm still the same person I was before I lost David. At least, I think I am. I feel like I am still me, only way more aware of how quickly life can go sideways and the rug can be pulled out from underneath me. I miss him everyday, but I feel stronger on some days and like I can't catch my breath on others. I am usually still quick with a joke or a humorous observation but I also cry quietly in Sam's Club when I walk past the brand of socks I used to buy for David. I guess you could say I feel like a shell of my former self, but I know I am still in there somewhere. The old me is guarded by the understanding that anyone and anything can be ripped from your life without any warning or real explanation. 

    I took my dog for a dental procedure the other day. When I signed the release form before they took her back, I had to initial a section to choose between them taking lifesaving measures or a DNR if she doesn't respond well to the anesthesia or should other complications arise. I checked the box for the DNR because I am in a dark place, life is fleeting, and it's hard to imagine suffering anymore than I already have. The procedure went well and she is healing nicely. It also cost about half of what they estimated it could, so that felt like an all-around win for me. She didn't die, but I was prepared if she had. If you don't answer my call, there is a part of me that is preparing for you to be dead. It's pretty dark where I live right now, but I think I am just protecting myself from any more unexpected losses. Because how could I suffer more? 

Let me quickly make sure the Universe understands that this is in no way a challenge to see how much more I could lose....just to be clear!

    Last month would have been our 21st wedding anniversary. Since Pismo Beach was always our go-to place when we wanted a quick getaway either as a couple or a family, I booked a room at a hotel where he and I had always talked about staying but never did. I did all the things we would usually do, but alone. I  bought cheap jewelry on the pier, ate clam chowder (Splash Cafe, of course!), bought candy at Hotlix, and sat on the beach to watch the waves and the other families enjoying their day. It was difficult and sad, but it also felt very right and necessary. I felt both closer to David and I also missed him more than ever. When I passed a UPS driver making deliveries, I amused myself with the conversation I know I would have had with David. He would have been jealous of the weather the driver works in, but he would not have envied the higher cost of living and the hellish tourist seasons. Those brown trucks stood out to him no matter where we went, to the point where he often felt like his job was following him on his vacation days. 

    I have found myself preferring the company of people who have suffered similar losses and have connected with some amazing people in the process. It's like we are all in a sad, dark club where no one actually wants to be a member, but we are thankful to have each other. It's soothing to be with other people who *get it*, even though we hate that we all do. I met a small group of women who meet in person and a few Facebook groups that have made me both laugh and cry. I feel most like myself when I am surrounded by like-minded people who know my pain.

    I am just trying to move forward most days. Sometimes, I don't move at all but sit still and try to immerse myself in what used to be. I can't live there, though. The world keeps on turning and it's a gift to be able to turn with it. We shouldn't take that for granted, even on the days when we want no part of what this world has to offer. On those days, I crawl inside my theoretical hidey-hole and just sit with it all. While it felt more difficult than it should have been, I completed my master's degree and have started looking for jobs. Aside from the substitute teaching gig, it has been so long since I have been a part of the workforce and I am sort of scared shitless. The original plan was for me to be able to ease into working once I completed my degree, but this past year or two has taught me that ultimate outcomes aren't really up to us. I'm not sure if I will ever be able to make concrete plans for the future again. Instead, I will focus on the direction I want to go and hope for the best. While also preparing for the worst. 

    I also collected a few little shells and rocks I found as I walked on the beach on our anniversary. I identify with those shell pieces, especially the broken ones. But, unlike those shells, I am not the final version of myself. I'm still in there somewhere, even if there will always be pieces missing. For now, it's safer to hunker down in my shell. Never the same but always me.

    

Moments and Other Finite Resources

       Like many adults (and probably some kids), my typical morning begins with a cup of coffee. Since I am the only one who regularly drinks coffee in this house, I usually just make myself a single cup. But the other day, I peered out the window as I was setting up my morning joe up to brew. It was cold, rainy, and windy and I decided it would be a good day to brew an entire pot. I mean, it's really not any more work to brew an entire carafe of coffee as it is a single cup right?

    On most mornings, those when I usually brew myself a single cup, that cup is my main focus until it is gone. I have never been one of those people who can carry their cup of coffee around the house and then have to retrace my steps to see where I left it. I don't enjoy the idea of letting is sit long enough to get cold, drinking it cold, or even reheating it in the microwave multiple times just to get through finishing a single cup. Instead, I sit at the kitchen table and allow myself the five or ten minutes it can take to enjoy the entire cup of coffee. I also usually take that time to grab a bite to eat, take my vitamins, and load up on the allergy meds I need to survive my everyday life. If I get too rushed or don't plan well enough to carve out these few minutes each morning, it usually feels like my whole day is thrown off. So I make a cup of coffee, sit down and give myself a few minutes to savor the entire cup, then I am ready to move onto the rest of my day. I always finish that cup of coffee because I know it's the only one I am getting.

    But, something odd happens when I decide to brew an entire pot of coffee. I rarely do this since I have a system in place and, for the most part, it works for me. But knowing I have the remains of an entire pot at my disposal somehow takes away from my ability to enjoy finishing even one cup. The last few times I brewed an entire pot for just myself, I didn't even finish drinking the first cup. Knowing there would always be more kept me from appreciating the cup sitting in front of me. I guess it could be said that I took it for granted. It's funny how easily we can take things for granted when we feel like there will always be more where that came from. A friend of my daughter's is going to school on the coast. I asked her if she visits the beach often and she admitted to me that she never thinks about it because she always knows it's "right there." 

Just like that pot of coffee.

    We don't live very far from a pretty well-known national park. People come from all over the world to be able to enjoy the beauty and splendor of this park. But the first time I visited that park, it was on an elementary school field trip with one of my daughters' classes in my late 30s. Had I not chaperoned that field trip, who knows if I would have visited there at all if it hadn't been for that field trip. I always knew it was "right there" and would not take much to get there. 

Just like that pot of coffee.

    It just seems like it's so easy to take for granted so many comforts and people in our lives when we feel like they will always just be there. When the kids seem to have grown up in the blink of an eye, is that because we feel like we didn't savor it enough while it was happening? Taking things and people for granted seems to be common, since so many of us seem focused on the future, be it the next thing or phase of life we perceive to be ahead of us. How many or things do we regularly put off focusing on because we assume they will always be there?

Just like that pot of coffee.

I just miss him so much

    David was my rock. . . and not only because he could raise one eyebrow just like The Rock. He might have worked long hours and missed a lot of the day-to-day activities, but he was my constant, steady partner nonetheless. Sharing a life with another person can be really trying at times. We certainly stepped on each other's toes our fair share, but our strengths usually complemented each other. We used to joke that neither of us wore the pants in our family. Instead, we shared the pants and stumbled around as if we were competing in one of those cheesy three-legged races. We stumbled a lot, but we always managed to stay together and get back up on our feet. I guess it was naive to assume that he would always be here. But I did assume that. As much as I had wanted him to stay, I also know that he did not want to leave us either. 

    In fact, no one was more excited about our future than David. One of our more recent regular disagreements was about how he wanted to make big, rather specific plans for our future and how I wanted to avoid that topic. My little ADHD brain would perceive those plans as pressure and start to spin out with a whole new set of worries and what-ifs when he tried to get too specific about our future. He put a lot of stock in his retirement, which he was planning on doing very soon. My anxiety would then make him anxious, which I would usually find upsetting and. . . you can probably see where this is going. 

    But in David's mind, his retirement was this thing that would always be there, finally allowing him the opportunity to do all the things he felt his job prevented him from doing. I'll eat healthier when I retire. I will start exercising regularly when I retire. When I retire, I am going to spend a lot of time outside and really make the yard look good. He was so excited for the life he could lead and the options he would have when he finally retired. In his mind, those good things could wait because he would be able to enjoy them all upon retirement. 

    I think I am in a sort of reflective phase of my grieving. My mind likes to playback unanswered questions and regrets on a loop, which I realize is rather exhausting and not at all productive. I sometimes feel like I have a constant movie playing in the background that highlights all the ways I took David for granted when he was here. Instead of beating myself up for all the things that cannot be changed, I am making a conscious effort to try to be more present and mindful with some of the people around me. This is often easier said than done since I have an innate tendency to live inside my own head and fail to see what is right in front of me. Or hear the person yelling "MOM!" at me from 11 inches away. 

    I still mostly keep to myself when I can. I have had so many offers and invites from friends who just want to help, but I am not exactly ready for much of that yet. I really appreciate everyone who reaches out and wants to help me, but I yearn for the day when people stop looking at me as the woman who lost her husband while offering me hugs and condolences. (I'm actually not much of a hugger and usually only hug others if I think they need it.) I really do love to talk about David, just not so much about how I'm doing since he died. I love to tell funny stories about him, brag about his accomplishments and more stellar qualities, joke about things he did to get under my skin, or illustrate how frustrated I can feel not being able to ask him simple questions. (Honestly David, where on earth did you put my step ladder?) I mention him frequently in conversation, often still in the present tense. I have read that is common and I'm not too worried about it. I am actually embracing thinking about him that way, confident the day will come when all of my stories about David are told in the past tense. I am sure it will feel like another loss when that happens since acknowledging he only lives in my past feels like it could make the time and distance seem even more real. I'm not ready for that.

    In the meantime, I am trying to focus on who and what I have right now; what's in front of me. It shouldn't matter if I have a full carafe of coffee on standby or a scenic adventure just down the road. I need to always try to remember that time and proximity are not guaranteed, so I should savor each bite, sip, or relationship like it's all I might get. You never know when they could be gone. 

The End of the Beginning

 

    I lost the most significant part of my adult life almost six weeks ago. David was an actual force of love, support, and kindness for me and so many other people. He was the very best human in so many ways. I have never known anyone to care so much about everything he did and all the people around him. He really put a lot of pressure on himself to be so many things to so many people. Because of this, he was not always the easiest to live with. Then again, is anyone? I know I’m not! It could be said that his most serious transgression in our marriage was caring way too much about so many people and (in my opinion) too many things. 

     These past weeks have felt as if they were unending and, yet I also feel like they passed in the blink of an eye. I can lose almost entire days feeling frozen in a moment sometimes. Conversely, I can also shower, dress, and join the living world as if I actually belong there. Even if I feel like I can pull it off, it’s really physically and emotionally draining. I am most comfortable in my home, surrounded by my small circle of people. Or even totally alone. That is when I feel like I can be my truest self, laughing or crying as I feel I need to. 

     A week or two ago, I had my first dream about David. Well, one that I remembered anyway. It was late in the morning. When I can, I go back to sleep after I initially wake up each morning. It was during one of those morning naps when I dreamt of David. In the dream, I somehow just knew he was out in the garage, even though I also knew he was gone. But in this dream, I didn't tell anyone that I knew he was there. Instead, I sneaked out the door leading to the garage and there he was. I don’t remember either of us speaking, but he just held me while I cried. The peace and comfort that dream brought me was more than I had felt since he left this world, but those feelings faded quickly as I slowly regained consciousness. 

     Up until this past year, I had been relatively fortunate to not have experienced the loss of an immediate family member or close friend. Looking back, I can confirm that my ignorance truly was bliss. The loss I had experienced prior to this past year really did hurt, but none of those people I lost were a really big part of my everyday life, past or present. Unexpectedly, we lost my mom in March of 2022. Losing the mother that raised you, even as an adult, it changes you as a person. She was this huge link to my past, one of my best confidants, someone who could find the humor in just about any situation, and the one who adored my girls as much as David and I do. But as much as it hurt and changed me as a person to lose my mom, she wasn’t a large part of my everyday life. She was a huge part of every holiday and all the usual milestones like birthdays, awards ceremonies, and the sports played by my girls. It was at all those events where we usually knew we would be spending with her in some capacity that the loss was felt the greatest. It still does. This past Christmas Eve was just five days before I lost my husband, and I remember crying in the car on the way to a celebration because she should be here for this. My mom loved Christmas music, pretty lights, admiring decorations, and spoiling her granddaughters (and new great grandson) to the best of her abilities. It was all so exciting to her and that excitement created its own special joy about the holiday season that was felt by all she touched. David and I shared a family, a bed, a home, a bank account. . . our life.

     David was my rock through all of the ‘firsts’ I had to get through after losing my mom. I tend to keep a lot of my feelings to myself, but this past year I had actually let David into those scary, unpredictable places inside my head and my heart. . . and he was fantastic. I could tell him about all those anxious, insecure, or weepy moments that I usually kept inside, and he gave me more love and support than I felt like I deserved. It highlighted that our relationship could have been so much better if I had just shared all the parts of me, even the ones that didn’t feel so endearing. All relationships have ups and downs, and ours was no exception. We had just gone through one of the down periods, but with counseling (and hormone therapy on my part) we were in this amazing upswing, and it almost felt like we were dating again. With the kids being older, date nights and cuddling on the couch were more common than they had been since the beginning of our relationship. We had joked about figuring out what to do with ourselves and each other when all the kids were gone and he retired, which was could have been as soon as a year or two from now. It’s an adjustment learning to let go of the life where the kids are young and need so much from you to a life where they don’t need you and you find yourself staring at your partner like, “Who even are we without all that?” The prospect of our empty nest began to feel full of excitement rather than uncertainty. 

     And then he was gone. 

     Monday night very well could have been the first *normal* Monday night we’d had since the holidays. My middle was home, and The Bachelor was on television. I was sprawled across the loveseat for most of the program, making my usual jokes about the intensity or catty remarks of the contestants. When it ended, the next show came on and the girls set off to their rooms. I glanced over to the couch where David had always resided during this exact same Monday night routine we’d had for the past few years, but he wasn’t there. It hit me, once again, that he’s not going to be there in that capacity ever again, and I don’t need any more proof than the container of his ashes that currently resides on a shelf in the corner of this very living room. Even without the ashes, he will always be here in some way. He’s in the stories and laughter we share, the tools and gadgets he collected (seriously David, four chainsaws?!?), and the many things he built with his own two hands and often a dash of redneck ingenuity. I’m not sure there was any project or tool he couldn’t repair or improve with his outside-the-box thinking and understanding of how things work. His dad once told me that many of David’s favorite toys as a child were the broken ones, since those gave him the opportunity to take them apart and see how they work, with the added challenge of making them work once again. He often worked the same magic with people by helping them with their own broken things or even just giving them a friendly smile and compassionate ear when they were feeling a bit broken themselves. He worked so hard to be so many things to so many people. And I would say his is a success story, especially when I think about the turnout for his celebration of life. 

     My middle created a video that we shared at his celebration and it’s such a good glimpse into the kind of friend, husband, father, grandfather, son, and UPS guy he truly was. He wore a lot of hats in his way-too-short life, but he wore them well.

Because she was my mom...

I am here today,

because she was my mom. 

I'm not always the beam of sunshine that she was, 

but she taught me the importance of helping others,

even when they may never be able to help us back.

Babies of all species need love and nurturing.

I learned that,

because she was my mom.

Because she was my mom,

I became a mom myself. 

I understand the importance of being present,

and never taking myself too seriously.

I learned to embrace the chaos and laugh often. 

My daughters are able to learn those same lessons,

because she was my mom.

Because she was my mom,

I learned you are never too old to act like a child.

Make funny faces, do silly voices, 

and tell a lot of stories.

Keeping up with children will keep you young,

and that all makes perfect sense to me,

because she was my mom.

This photo was taken last year, the last Mother's Day we were able to spend with her. 

We had no clue. 

This Mother's Day was the first of many where an important piece will be missing. 

Tell your loved ones what they mean to you while you can.

Weather the storm! Run the race! Do the thing!

 When 15YO was in first grade, her class did a “Patriotic Program” at school. Each child had a speaking part during the performance. My child was given a rather wordy part, but her teacher assured us that she was more than capable of handling it. So, my ever-determined first grader repeated her part out loud so many times that the entire household had it memorized in time for her performance. This was her part:

 

“On the Statue of Liberty are these words: Give me your tired, your poor,

Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,

The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.

Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed to me,

I lift my lamp beside the golden door.”

 

 

This was the first time I had heard of the term “tempest-tossed”, and I had no clue how much it would come to resonate with me. Merriam-Webster describes this term as “tossed about or agitated violently, thrown into confusion, or overwhelmed.” It could be used to describe a ship at sea during a violent storm, being tossed around so that all it can do is hope it can remain afloat once the storm has passed. 

 

I have come to realized that I feel much like the tempest-tossed ship. 

 

I’m not trying to say that I have a more difficult life than anyone else. I know, for a fact, that is not the case. The truth is that everyone has difficulties in their lives, and not all of those difficulties are based on their own choices. All of my storms are based on my own choices, and I have no regrets in choosing them. 

 

But I am tired. 

 

I don’t think this feeling is just a result of my life choices, but is also a result of the world we live in. It often feels like life is a race that has already started while I am still trying to figure out which shoes I should wear. Should I wear the really comfortable ones? The ones that give me the most support and should help me finish strong? The ones that look best with what I am wearing? What about those shoes that everyone else seems to want? Am I supposed to want those shoes?

 

I was recently told that I seem to focus more on the things I have not accomplished rather than giving myself credit for the things I have and am currently accomplishing. I guess that is probably true. But it is difficult to forget about what needs to be done when I feel like everyone else is already halfway through their race and I am still digging through my sock drawer trying to find that one pair that doesn’t slide a little more off my heel with each step I take. What if I get distracted trying to organize said sock drawer and forget to join the race altogether? 

 

It’s easy to feel tempest-tossed in a world like this one. I imagine I am not alone in this feeling. So, if you feel like you are a ship trying its best to weather a storm, just know you are in good company. (Okay, maybe not good company, but company nonetheless!) 

 

Sometimes, all we can really do is batten down the hatches and aim for clearer skies. And most storms come with really great stories.

 

 

 

 

My Need for the "D" and Other Reasons I Should Not be Allowed in Public

 I seriously meant to post regularly when the world closed down last year, but that lasted....maybe a few weeks? Oh, well. My inconsistency is usually my most consistent trait and I have decided that I will just be okay with that. 

We are now well over a year into this whole pandemic thing. When will COVID be downgraded from a pandemic to an epidemic? Does anyone else remember a time when you thought an epidemic was the worst thing that could happen? Do you remember standing in crowded places? Indoors? And seeing people's entire faces? 

Crazy, right?

We are finally moving closer to what we have always perceived to be *normal* but this journey will not be a brief one. I'm not sure I will ever not have to consciously control my hateful glares when someone coughs in public. Seriously, it's a reflex! That is complicated by the fact that this is an especially intense year for seasonal allergies. 

I say that, but I honestly think I have been saying that every year since I turned 30 or so. Curses!

So, I ran out of my 12-hour Sudafed and had to go a day without it. Going without it for one day is usually not a big deal, but going several consecutive days without any one of the three allergy medications I take is a guaranteed recipe for a sinus infection. I don't make the rules, but I certainly have the experience to understand the consequences. I had just enough time between work and having to pick up 15YO from softball practice to run by one store and make my weekly-allotted purchase of meth-grade Sudafed from the pharmacy. 

As I approach the pharmacy, I see a big, empty space behind the counter where my drug of choice is usually kept and I am sensing that this could really be a problem for me. Now, I consider myself a typically sociable person in the sense that I can hold a friendly little small-talk session with the best of them. But, there are times when I should not be allowed to talk to other people.

Enter: Anxiety-induced babbling. 

When something is bothering me or I am stressed, I tend to overshare, undershare, or inappropriately share things with total strangers that might make them uncomfortable or raise red flags about my intentions. 

Why did I tell that Starbucks barista that I don't have a penis? 

Why do I feel the need to point out my flaws to total strangers as examples of why my parents should probably never have bred?

Why do I still make methamphetamine jokes when I am handing over my license to buy Sudafed? "Thank you! Now I almost have enough for my next batch!"

So yesterday, when the poor, unsuspecting guy at the Walmart Pharmacy suggested another allergy medication, why did I say, "Is this the stuff you can make meth out of? Because if it's not, it's not going to work." 

I then went on to ask him the minimum age someone could buy the restricted stuff, as if I planned to have a team of young adults helping me build up my stash. To be fair, I have an 18-year-old daughter who enjoys shopping more than I do. It would be handy to know I could have her pick up a box for me when I don't have time to run to the store myself. But at that point, I felt like any further explanation would just make me seem more suspicious, so I just shut my mouth and handed the nice man my license. 

I guess it makes sense to also wonder why did he even sell it to me? Why was there not a uniformed officer following me around the store and out to my car? 

I settled on Allegra-D, since the "D" means it basically has Sudafed in it. (I'm totally in it for the "D!" 😂) I had to drop one of my regular medications because they would allegedly not play well with the Allegra (Thank you, Google!). But, I must say, I already feel like I have an easier time breathing through my nose than I have in a long time. I guess it was time to switch up my typical allergy meds because of tolerance and all that. 

I have been fortunate in the fact that my allergy meds have controlled the symptoms that could be confused for COVID. As long as I stay properly medicated, I don't get a cough, runny nose, or anything like that. I just sometimes get an itchy nose, difficulty breathing, and burning, watery eyes when I am outside too much. Or at all. Or if a window is open. Or if it is April or May. Or Tuesday. 

I think I need to move. 

Gains, Losses, and Running Errands Dressed Like an Old-Timey Stagecoach Robber

 Seriously...has going to the bank EVER been this much fun before? I think not! 😂

     Like so many others, my feelings are all over the place when it comes to this lockdown/pandemic/quarantine thing. I am appreciating things I never gave myself time to think about in my pre-pandemic life. Like most things in life, this situation has resulted in pretty much all of us winning some, losing some, and grasping like crazy for a reason for all this. (Because there was a reason for all the other pandemics in the history of the world, right?)

     Since my time is no longer short, but my attention span still remains much like that of a goldfish with a brain injury, I've decided to list the good, the bad, gains, and losses in bullet points. 

Here are some things that have increased in my life since the 2020 pandemic:

•  The number of days I go between washing my hair is so much longer than I'd ever imagined. At one point, I actually put dry shampoo in my hair to go outside and get my mail. I didn't want to end up on a neighborhood Facebook group as the alleged homeless woman who has been seen going through people's mailboxes. If anyone has ever considered trying the "No Poo Method," can you think of a better time than now?
•  My alcohol tolerance has most definitely increased over these past two months. Pretty soon, my classes toward my masters degree will start up. Then, I will most definitely need my brain. Until then, well...it's 5 o'clock somewhere, right? I mean, it's not likely I have anywhere to be. And neither do most of you! Once I need my brain, my alcohol consumption will go back down to being a treat instead of an almost daily thing. Until then...
• The size of pants I wear has also increased. Not substantially, but it's hard to know for sure when the things I usually wear are stretchy and have elastic waistbands. I was doing really well right before this whole shelter in place thing came about. I even did well the first month or so after it began. But, without a clear end date in sight for all of this, I'm just going to take my life one beer and tortilla chip at a time. Who's with me?
• My paranoia of germs and other people has grown exponentially these past couple of months. I have always habitually held my breath when I walk past a person who appears to have any sort of communicable illness. I've never really worried about disinfecting shopping cart handles, because healthy people shop too. However, I don't read the magazines in doctors' offices because the odds of sick people reading them first are too high for me. While my methods of staying away from cooties might not be completely sound, they work for me. Not only do I now fear the potential germs from other people, but I fear the ones that I might be carrying and don't know about yet. Waking up with a stuffy nose and dry cough has never been more terrifying, until you realize you slept with the window open, it's spring, you feel the accompanying sinus pain and pressure that comes with seasonal allergies (especially when it's windy!) and you remember that you always have a dry, tight cough until you use your inhaler! 
• We have most definitely increased the use of our pool. This time of year, we are typically too busy with softball and school to spend much time in it. Once school is out, we still don't use the pool much because of travel softball. When one family member can't swim and wear herself out on game or practice days, how can the rest of us really enjoy it? I spent my Mother's Day floating around the pool in the sun, cold beer in hand. It. Was. Fantastic.

Here are a few things that have decreased in the past two months, and counting:

• My patience for the people I live with has dwindled over the past two months. Have they always chewed like that? Why can I hear them breathing? Why are they all still here? Have they always sounded like that when they eat cereal? Have they always eaten this much cereal? Cereal should be outlawed. Who buys this stuff?
• The number of pants in my closet that fit me has been reduced, especially in just this past month. There are no rules anymore, what can I say? 
• The amount of laundry I have to do has gone down a bit. I mean, how can we have so much laundry when we don't get dressed and leave the house very often?
• Sadly, the number of steps I take each day has also been shrinking. My smartwatch is pretty much mocking me these days. The sleep tracking app I use likes to act like it's giving me the benefit of the doubt by advising me to "wear my watch during the day to see a difference in my average heart rate between sleeping and being awake." Apparently, there is supposed to be a difference! I am living proof that there is no difference when you don't physically move much during the day! SLOTHS OF THE WORLD, UNITE! 
• Lastly, my motivation took a serious crap. It's gone. What day is it? Who cares? I'd better get this task done, or else...NOTHING WILL HAPPEN. Starting school again will at least give me some sort of structure from which to build the rest of my life around. Until then...I honestly don't know how I will be able to account for myself or my actions without any structure. 

I should not be left unsupervised...

Jack in the Box, Identifying with Crime Dramas, and Staying in Your Seat

Jack wants to know if it's safe to come out of the box. Sorry Jack, NO ONE knows the correct answer to that!

     Last night, I had a dream that I ran into someone, and they told me I looked like I had lost a lot of weight. I mean, I definitely haven't, but I didn't realize how much I needed to hear something like that. Hell, even if I did lose a significant amount of weight, my current quarantine crew probably  wouldn't really be able to see it past the three-day-old leggings and oversize t-shirts covered in tortilla chip crumbs. 

     Okay, so what's the longest you have gone without washing your hair? Wait...don't answer that! Everyone's answer is usually their own, personal acceptable length of time and any different answer leaves them open to judge or be judged and THERE IS NO ROOM FOR ANYMORE JUDGEMENT IN THE WORLD RIGHT NOW. We are all gross, so we need to accept this about ourselves and those around us, even if their version of gross differs from ours. We should be taking our cues from the southern states when it comes to our crazy; don't hide it, put it on the front porch and give it a cocktail. 

     Thanks to social media and all the day drinking occurring all over the world, people have gotten more and more comfortable letting their hygiene-lacking freak flags fly...and I couldn't be more entertained. In case you haven't noticed, the jokes about homeschooling have started to wane. I think it's because the concept of being responsible for overseeing our children't education stopped being funny about two weeks ago. Many school districts decided, weeks ago even, that the rest of this school year would be carried out via distance learning. Other districts are holding onto hope that somehow the last week or two of traditional school will somehow be salvageable. I honestly cannot disagree with either viewpoint. If we have learned anything about how the world is working right now, we have to realize their are no right answers. This whole pandemic is one big grey area of unknown, damned-if-you-do, damned-if-you-don't situations. I don't envy the people who actually have to make these decisions. People are going to get screwed no matter how we go about this. This almost seems like the worst kind of zero-sum game. Someone almost always loses in order to benefit someone else. 

     And these people I live with? Why are they all still here? Sure, David gets up and goes to work five days a week, like always. In fact, his hours are more like his hours during the holidays, only without all the festivities and catchy music. That almost makes it harder to share space with him, though. He's out, working is ass off, while we are all at home. We really don't appear to be pulling our weight in the world right now, but how can we? We mostly just float around the house, dabbling in one distraction after another. Our brains have realized that we have nothing to look forward to, so accomplishing anything of significance feels impossible. Can we even consider any of this procrastination when there are literally no deadlines? All we really know we have is right in front of us right now. I'm trying to learn how to live in the moment better, by watching our dogs. No one lives in the moment like Leo! He has fun on walks, but it's still an ordeal to walk him. He begins the walk by pulling, trying to go as quickly as possible and smell as many icky things as possible. When he gets tired, he will just stop and fall over in the nearest patch of weeds. He lives his best life in every moment, no matter what lies ahead, or how far away from home we might be.

Leo and 17YO take a much needed break during an afternoon stroll. Nobody lives in the moment quite like Leo!

     It amazes me how much I still have to learn about these people with whom I share a home. For example, did you know that 14YO likes to repetitively tap random objects when she's near me? I mean, I know the kid is known for her never ending energy, but I have started to get really angry (triggered, if you will) when she does the tapping. 17YO either sleeps all day, works on schoolwork, or follows me around, starting me as if there is some need of hers that I am not meeting adequately. (It's usually because she wants Taco Bell, but not always.) I'm a little worried that some of our family stories might be used as inspiration for a future episode of Criminal Minds, or maybe Snapped! I've also learned a few things about myself during this misadventure. I have learned that hearing someone eat cereal nearby can trigger both rage and nausea, simultaneously. These people go through a lot of milk and cereal. I used to view it as YAY! If they eat cereal, I don't have to cook! Now, I would rather cook a large meal than sit and endure the chomping and slurping on what feels like an endless loop.

     This afternoon, as 14YO lounged in the pool, she told me how bittersweet this time at home was. She misses her friends and softball terribly, but she was excited to say this is the first time in years that her shoulders are the same color as the rest of her arms. She truly does usually spend most of her spring and summer in a softball uniform! Most of the time, she's pretty good at finding silver linings and having a good time no matter where she is.

Hmm...maybe Leo is rubbing off on some of us after all!

     In the meantime, I alternate between seeing all this time at home as a gift, and pacing various rooms like a caged animal. Is there a way we are supposed to feel about all this? I am worried about the people who are especially at risk if they catch this virus. I'm worried about the economy, especially small business that are stuck in terrible circumstances where they are not producing income, but the bills to keep their businesses afloat are still piling up. I'm worried about the people who don't take any of this seriously and continue to live their best social lives, putting many others at risk. I'm worried about the mental health of those who need support and are spending so much time alone that it's pushing them into a very dark place. I'm worried about teachers and students in the K12 system that have been thrown into a crash course in distance learning, especially those in the elementary level. The teachers and parents of that age group are feeling so much pressure in a whole new world. 

     Let me tell you, I have been a substitute teacher in a few elementary school classrooms. Like many adults in this world right now, a lot of those children don't stay in their seats. Many of them have the attention span of a goldfish with a brain injury. They are fun, but they are a whole different level of exhausting! Even when schools are opened again, it's being said that they will still try to practice social distancing in the classroom. With the older kids, I can almost see that. I mean, the class sizes would have to be much smaller. Maybe an alternating schedule could be put in place, so that all the students aren't to be on campus at the same time? But, telling any number of second graders not to invade each other's space and to keep their hands to themselves would almost be pointless. This kind of stuff is difficult for most adults to wrap their heads around, much less our children. In the first grade, all three of my daughters learned a song about how getting four hugs a day should be the minimum. Should we rewrite that song?

Six feet awaaaaaay...that's the minimum,

Six feet awaaaaay...no-ot the maximum!

   And on that note, stay safe and try to be kind.

     

Cat Pictures, Country Potatoes, and the Five Stages of Quarantine

"Seriously woman, you need to find a hobby!"

Day 23 of the Hostage Situation...err, I mean, family bonding time!

     I get to leave the house on occasion, so...uh...that's pretty cool. Grabbing groceries and the occasional curbside pickup for food are my only real reasons for going anywhere. The girls are happy to go with me, even if they stay in the car the whole time. People watching in a parking lot is still a change in scenery, and they are happy for any type of change at this point! 

     There have been a lot of great things coming out of this whole situation, in spite of all the fear and hopelessness the media often portrays. Parades are being organized for the kids who have birthdays and aren't able to celebrate. People are pitching in by sewing masks and delivering groceries to the elderly and people with already compromised health conditions. In so many ways, we are so fortunate and should see this situation for the gift that it is. We are spending more time with family and aren't so stressed out with the typical hustle and bustle that most of us normally endure. 

     In the beginning, I feel like our cats were pretty happy to have us here. Now, they seem over it. Take Theo, for example. His face in the photo above is pretty much his face these days. It's as if he no longer appreciates our presence! Right? I was surprised, too! I mean, he should feel loved when we are constantly picking him up, kissing him, and shoving our phones in his face to capture just how adorable he is. 

     On my last shopping adventure, I picked up a large bag of potatoes. I figure potatoes are something I don't ordinarily keep around because I get busy and forget about them if I don't use them right away. I normally buy smaller bags of them for a meal I know I will make in the next day or two, mostly  because I know myself and how easily I can forget about things like that. 

Seriously, have you ever forgotten about a bag of potatoes and then wondered why it smelled like a dead body decomposing somewhere in the pantry? 

     This morning, I decided to use a good amount of that bag of potatoes to make some country potatoes. BOY HOWDY! I never knew it took so long to make those stinking things! I'm not kidding, it took me a good two hours just to make those damn things. They turned out tasty, but I'm still not sure why it doesn't cost a hundred dollars to order them in a restaurant. I, for one, will have a whole new appreciation for those things when someone else makes them! I'm likely to never make them again after this.

     In spite of all the human kindness we have witnessed, the needed time with our immediate families, and some of the best memes I have ever seen, what we are all experiencing, in one way or another, is grief. We are grieving all the things in our lives we don't have, like social interaction. Grandparents cannot hug their grandchildren, no one can just decide to meet up with a friend for a cup of coffee, and many cannot do their jobs, resulting in no paycheck. I've also noticed a pattern in how people deal with this quarantine, which is so similar to how people deal with grief in general.

The Five Stages of Quarantine

1) Denial

At first, it was really tough to wrap our heads around the fact that this whole quarantine thing is real. This has never happened in my lifetime, since nothing this tragic has ever been this close to home for most of us. Is this really happening, or am I dreaming? Is Ashton Kutcher going to pop out and tell us we've all been Punk'd? No gatherings more than 50 people? That shouldn't change things too much, I guess. Should it? Either way, this will all blow over in a few weeks and life will go back to normal. 

2) Anger

We start to feel angry because things in life that are normally as plentiful as we'd like are severely limited. If this doesn't end, high school and college seniors will be robbed of a proper graduation ceremony. And what about parties? People have to work hard to get to this point, but what will it mean without being able to celebrate it with their friends and families in the traditional ways? Sports are put on hold, both school and travel. Who could have predicted that many of these kids' last practice would be their last practice for the school year? What about birthdays? While I tend to think most of us go overboard to celebrate our kids' birthdays, even a simple cake and ice cream celebration with family and a few friends is off the table. People began judging each other about how they live their lives, if they aren't practicing proper social distancing. Public shaming begins to get more and more common. My girls were getting angry that I wouldn't let them hang out with friends anymore and we argued about it a lot. 

3) Bargaining

We start looking for loopholes. We try to justify going places and seeing people because we "feel fine." While that's certainly commendable, this virus is known for allowing people to feel perfectly fine and still be contagious. While you are fine, how many people do you come into contact with? This is a situation that no one has really been through before, so it's hard to wrap our brains around it and take it seriously. I mean, we are now looking toward  introverted, agoraphobic germaphobes for guidance. There is a small portion of the population that is truly living their best lives right now, with all the social pressures and obligations being on hold right now. 

Has anyone reached the end of Netflix yet? I feel like we're almost there! 

4) Depression

We feel really sad that we realize this is our new, even if temporary, normal. Will things ever truly return to normal? Will my children EVER go back to school? Why do we even get dressed each day? (spoiler alert: most of us don't!)  Do you realize that many of the aspects of the lifestyle we are forced to abide by are also on the list as symptoms of depression? People who suffer from depression likely aren't getting the social support they need. People who thrive on social interaction are also getting depressed. Thanks to social media, FaceTime, Skype, and Zoom, people can still connect with others. It's important that people reach out and do whatever they can to not feel so isolated during this strange time in our lives. Fresh air, sunshine, and exercise ALWAYS help, if even just a little. 

5) Acceptance

This will not last forever, but this is how things have to be right now. And it's totally worth it if we are truly able to contain this crazy virus that has now affected everyone in one way or another. The girls no longer argue about seeing their friends. 14YO has started baking. She has also become nocturnal, spending the nights baking cookies and drinking milk, based on how quickly we've been going through butter and gallons of milk recently! 17YO has rearranged her room multiple times, even painting the blades of her ceiling fan and moving shelves around. When she heads toward her room with a power drill, we don't question it. She knows what she wants to do and will figure out how to do it, always leaving things better than she found them. 

     In the meantime, kids are being guided through their education by their teachers, at a distance, and their day-drinking parents, in the home. There really are no rules anymore! Up is down, down is up! The things that are normally necessary to be healthy could possibly kill you, and the people you love. You are more likely to be negatively judged for standing too closely to another person than for staying in the same clothes for days at a time or consuming alcohol early in the day. Still, the store shelves are empty of toilet paper, bleach, Lysol, and hand sanitizer. The market has been disrupted, especially concerning toilet paper. People panic-bought it all in the beginning of this thing, which now results in people panic-buying it whenever they can find it. As long as I have a couple of week's worth on hand, I'm not going to stress about it. Between watching Tiger King, seeing all the memes about washing hands, touching your face, and toilet paper, I will continue to be entertained by how different people are handling things...especially the ones making the memes. KEEP 'EM COMING! 

Keeping Up When Everything is Standing Still

I finally got around to updating my calendar.

How on earth will I keep this all straight?

     No more than a month ago, 14YO was looking at the calendar on the side of the fridge. Most of us have a calendar on our phones to keep us abreast of what's going on, but I like to have a main, centrally located calendar we can all see at a glance. I've honestly been better at keeping this thing up-to-date than I thought I'd be. I even use different colored dry erase markers for each person, though David and I usually share the same color. 14YO's things are usually in blue, while 17YO's things are in red. It helps to see it all in one place and I would probably be lost (or more lost, anyway) without it. Since the youngest in the house happens to also be the busiest (and cannot drive herself anywhere yet), this calendar is usually more blue than any other color. 

     Despite the fact that this thing has been updated pretty consistently and the colors have remained the same, it was on this day not even a month ago when 14YO happened to look at the calendar and say, "All of the blue stuff is just mine?" I held back what I was really thinking and curtly replied, "YEP." Once the little turd had confirmed that our world pretty much does revolve around her, she chuckled and said, "That's pretty lit."

And then she walked away.

     You see, this kid never really stops. She plays travel softball in the spring, summer, and fall. She takes weekly pitching lessons. She plays on school teams for a couple of different sports as well. Between school and friends and sports, my kid is living her best life and I'm her ride. And now...

THERE. IS. NOTHING.

     No practices, no games, no school, and no gatherings of any kind. 17YO's prom might be canceled, and it definitely won't happen on its originally scheduled date. We are all getting antsy and anxious for what's to come. Their schools have now pushed the return date back to the beginning of May. If they do go back then, how is this all going to work? The last month of school is normally so chaotic, but imagine trying to cram extra activities of the five or six weeks missed into that last month as well. 

*shudders*

     I'm not sure if cabin fever has completely set in, but the inability to just go somewhere and see people is starting to wear on me at times. I usually alternate between viewing this time at home as a gift and a hostage situation. I really get why we need to stay away from each other, but not everyone sees it that way. We're really fortunate to live in a time where so many jobs can be done remotely. Thanks to programs like Zoom, teachers are able to connect with their classes and explain lessons, with everyone staying safely in their own homes. Without a better screening process to catch this thing before it spreads or, even better, a vaccine, we need to keep from going places and touching each other just a little bit longer. 

     In the meantime, 14YO is attempting to bake a cake from scratch. Her attention span is pretty close to that of a goldfish with a brain injury, so we're all a little nervous. She just confused cups with teaspoons and was about to add 1 3/4 cups of baking powder to her mix. If this girl had her own cooking show, it would be found in the comedy section! And only the bravest audience members would want to try her creations. And her show would likely be sponsored by Pepto Bismol and Tums. Don't worry, she can laugh at herself....we taught her how!

     Here are a few of the things I am hearing as I type this:

"This cake is going to be BOMB DOT COM."

14YO-"After I finish this cake, they will be calling me Bobby Boucher."

Me-"The Waterboy?"

14YO-"Who?"

Me-"Do you mean Bobby Flay?"

14YO-"Isn't that Adam Sandler?"

Me-"....."

"Mom, what color should I make this cake? I never see green cakes, so I'll make it green."

(Luckily, she changed her mind about that one!)

     At least we can say that this experience is a good exercise in her reading comprehension skills and her understanding of science. Or so we can hope. This is a good time to go back to basics in a lot of ways. Board games, jigsaw puzzles, books, and family walks are usually forgotten in the rush of everyday life. When you get sick of that stuff, there's always Tiger King!

“If I were home more, I’d...”

            You guys, is this real life right now? It still feels like we are in a movie. A comedic thriller, of sorts, combining your worst fears with some of the best memes of all time. We joke, but not because we don’t respect the reality of the circumstances. We joke because we need a reason to laugh now, more than ever.

            I’ve ignored this blog for years now. A lot has happened the past few years. I earned my bachelor’s degree in psychology. I am about to start applying to get my master’s degree…if I ever nail down the one I want to pursue. The Paradox of Choice is so real in my life right now! The oldest of my spawn is married now. The baby of the family is about to be in high school. My middle daughter continues to make me feel like she is the one raising me, and she is less than a year away from being a legal adult herself. Needless to say, life keeps David and I pretty busy. In fact, I spend a lot of time making excuses for my shortcomings by saying things like, “If I were home more…”

            Well, guess what? I’m home more for the time being. David’s job is still considered essential, so he leaves for work everyday. But the rest of us…we are HOME. School, travel sports, and my current position as a substitute teacher are all on hold indefinitely. I know we will get back to our regularly scheduled chaos eventually, but that chaos is something I find myself regularly complaining about. Personally, I don’t do well with little downtime. I need time to withdraw, escape, allow my mind to wander and process all the things. All the things just feels like too many things, most days. It’s safe to say that I identify the most with my self-proclaimed introvert friends. I would rather sit somewhere quiet and read. In fact, the busiest times in my life will find me giving up several hours of sleep, just to find that time alone I crave. 

            This week, I’ve really had a chance to think about the things I would like to get done with this gift of time that has been bestowed upon me. My girls still have homework online, so that needs to be a priority. 14YO (yes, the baby!) is working on Punnett squares, and I am sort of geeking out in the hopes she lets me help her. It took me one human biology course to realize how much I enjoy Punnett squares. Apparently, I’m way more of a nerd than I ever allowed myself to realize. 

            I’m okay with that. 

            The first task I tried to knock out was cleaning up my laundry room. While I’m definitely not finished, I made a huge dent in there. Did you know I have a sink in there? I mean, I guess I knew that, but it’s just been so long since I’ve seen it. At some point, a few small pieces of laundry must have fallen off the top of washer and into the sink. I found little, bitty odd socks and teensy-tiny panties. It’s been such a long time since anyone in this house had such small feet or such a pint-sized backside. Yes, it’s been that long since I’ve seen the bottom of that sink! I didn’t get much use out of the sink for several reasons, so it’s no wonder it’s been so long. But, it’s still ridiculous nonetheless. The faucet is “splashy” and makes more of a mess than is worth it, and the newer front-loading washing machine and dryer are larger than those types of machines were when this house was built. The sink is back in the corner, and there’s not really adequate space to make it easily accessible. 

            But my usual excuse of “I’m not home enough” is not really going to cut it, given the current circumstances. So, I plan to try to work on those things that I always put off, because I’m “never home.” My two youngest have also started to do things they don’t usually have the opportunity to do. For instance, they have been fighting more. Now, I’m not talking about the usual bickering that comes with fighting over clothes or who gets to choose dinner. These girls have the opportunity to fight over actual space, leading to pushing, screaming, and chasing each other with spray bottles. I, for one, love it. Those kinds of fights have always been so typical between siblings, but often get missed because we are all too busy to really infringe on each other’s space. 

            That is so sad to me! I feel like we learn so much about ourselves and other people when we have those typical squabbles with our siblings. Also, our world just became a whole lot smaller, even if it’s only temporary. We are bound to have to elbow each other out of our way at one point. 

            So, there might be quite a few more posts from me over the coming weeks. I mean, what else I am going to do with my time? (Besides sharing memes...I will be doing that no matter what!)