Spooky

Happy Halloween everyone!!!!!

We spent the day working on Asher's room (update soon, I promise), roasting pumpkin seeds and trick-or treating, of course.

Here are my little goblins all ready to go.

The Art of Virtue

In keeping with this year's books that became movies theme, I read Tracy Chevalier's, Girl With a Pearl Earring.

Historical fiction intrigues me, so naturally, I found the "story" behind this painting interesting. As for the book, it was a well-written, quick, easy read.

The story was fairly predictable but that wasn't disappointing. Rather, the natural, even pace of her storytelling was reassuring. It felt as though the author was composing the story with the same deliberate thoughtfulness Vermeer had while creating the portrait upon which it's based.

Control

During my thirty-something years on this earth, I've learned that there is only one constant.

When I feel situations in my life are completely out of control, like I have no way of making anything happen the way I think it should; when I am totally unable to force people or circumstances to take the course I've chosen for them, I've found there is only one thing I am able to do.

Change my hair.

The Benefit of the Doubt

This weekend I learned a wonderful lesson about giving people the benefit of the doubt. Now, I wasn't always so suspicious of people but it seems that age has definitely brought out the crotchety old woman in me. I suppose the ruination of my VERY FIRST CAR by a motorcyclist without insurance who insisted on letting his step-father do the shoddy repairs will do that to a girl.

Still, as a mother, I think it's important to have a more open, accepting, view of people. While I think it's important to teach children how to keep themselves safe, I don't want them growing up afraid of the world, or the people in it, for that matter.

Saturday night, after a long day of hauling and unpacking and cleaning, we had finally settled in for the evening. Elijah was putting Amelia down and Asher was getting ready for bed. I was piddling around upstairs when our doorbell rang. Not a single ring, but a RING-RING-RING-RING ding-dong ditch ring. (I'm pretty sure everyone knows the difference, right?)

I went downstairs to look out the peephole, but I wasn't going to open the door. I didn't want to give those "punk kids" the satisfaction of thinking they'd "gotten me" or whatever. I stared out for a while, saw nothing, gave up and went back upstairs. Sure enough, as soon as I sit back down at the computer the doorbell rings again. I was so annoyed!!! I couldn't believe that this was how we were being welcomed to the neighborhood. I imagined all sorts of scenarios where I'd spend the next 20 years chasing kids off my lawn and calling the police with noise complaints. Just thinking about it was exhausting.

Elijah came down and asked who was at the door. I told him my suspicions and he headed out the back door to surprise the little hood rats. After another five minutes Elijah comes in the front door carrying a bucket of Halloween treats and a note explaining that we'd been BOO'd. Needless to say, I was totally embarrassed about how quickly I'd jumped to conclusions about the kids in the neighborhood.

The note explained that we were to leave goodies and the notes at two other houses in our neighborhood that don't have the little "BOO!" on the door. So last night Asher and I were the "punk kids" harassing the neighbors.

Hang In There

I know I've been very neglectful of my blog these past few weeks. I just wanted to stop in to let my faithful readers know that it's going to get better.

The move is almost complete and soon I'll have more than mere moments to spare during the day. We have all the big stuff done and we're living in the new place, but the old house still has a bunch of little things that need to be shuttled over to the house. We didn't pack much in boxes since our new home is only a few miles from the rental. We've been loading and unloading little knick knacks, books, and miscellaneous items incessantly over the past few weeks. I'm starting to think it's less of a blessing and more of a curse to have extra time to move!

The kids are settling in. We didn't move Asher out of his school, he'll finish this year out and then start up at the new school next fall. Amelia is still unsure about the house. She's been so needy these days, I can't seem to get anything done when she's awake. The only time she isn't all over me is when she's watching the Wiggles so we're currently wearing them out. I can't help it, I've got to do SOME unpacking during the day and I'm so exhausted that I've been napping with her instead of getting things settled while she sleeps.

All in all, we love the new house and are really excited to make it our own. I'm just trying to give myself time and not get inpatient that I can't do it all at once. I'll be back in the swing of things soon enough.

Friday I'm In Love

New home edition!!!!

While I'm definitely NOT in love with the whole "let's take everything you've acquired over the last 30 plus years and move it from one place to another." I am definitely in love with our new place. I love the way it smells, looks, feels. Even though we aren't anywhere close to being moved in (we're still living in our leased house) it already feels like home.

I've spent the past week schlepping various items from one place to the other, often taking two to three trips a day. I prop the garage door open and haul everything inside while Amelia and Asher explore their new place. I think it's a fantastic coincidence that Amelia is the same age Asher was when we moved to our home in Oklahoma. I'm thrilled that we have a permanent space to house our family memories and mark growth charts on the walls.

I will soon be posting pictures and updates on our changes to this new "blank canvas." For today, I just wanted to post how very much in love I am with our place.

Untitled

I can't share her story because it isn't mine to share.

Even if I felt like I could talk about it, she is barely into the prologue of her diagnosis so, at least for now, there isn't much to say. There is still a great deal of research that must be done before her story can even begin to be written. Still more tests to be performed, more of the seemingly cold, objective, poking and prodding. Without actually going through this experience myself, how could I possibly do justice to the chapters she will soon be facing?

Chapters full of sitting in those damn paper gowns, waiting fearfully for unwanted results in cold, badly lit rooms. Paragraphs describing what it's like to sit across from a grim faced specialist, outlining one seemingly unpalatable option after another. Discussing treatments with people who insist on talking about her body as if it wasn't hers.

Chapters filled with evenings at home, waiting next to a silent phone praying that it will ring. Or perhaps even worse, next to a phone that won't stop ringing. Paragraphs filled with guilt for avoiding people who mean well but can't help but look at her differently. People who reach out because they are healthy and able, reminding her that she is no longer whole.

Will there be a chapter about surgery? Chemotherapy? Radiation? Can anyone definitively stage it yet? What's the actual prognosis? What's being said to her face? What's actually written in the doctor's progress notes?

It's impossible. As much as I'd like to, as much as I feel I NEED to, I can't write a story about the unknown.

I would willingly compose a tale in which I'm the main character.

I imagine that being a nurse, this character would be more comfortable in the myriad of hallways and rooms she'd have to maneuver. She'd know more, at least based on her experience as a caregiver, about the ins and outs of treatment options. What side effects to expect and what signs and symptoms to report. She wouldn't feel as overwhelmed or lost in this sterile, unyielding environment.

No. I can't write her story. Not without permission. Not when the villain is still living incognito. Not until she states how she's going to face her attacker. Until then, we worry via text and get updates through e-mail.

But, I can write about my fears. I can write about how I'm awake, composing this in a silent house, filled with people who know yet are still able to find sleep. I can write about how I spend my days waiting for a phone call, wanting to know more but unwilling to call - afraid to push.

No.

It's not my story to tell, just like, try as I might to place myself in her role as the main character, it isn't my battle to fight.


This post is written in response to a prompt from:

Y.M.C.A.

We signed up for a family membership at our local Y.M.C.A. a few weeks back. Elijah wanted to join because he missed going to the gym regularly (his gym was a block away from our house), while I needed a place for inclement weather running because when we moved we had to give away my treadmill due to space issues. Anyway, we'd both been pretty anxious to find a gym to join and this way we also get a discount on Asher's camp tuition next summer. Win, win, win!

Although we've been members for a while now, today was the first time I used the gym. Usually, I run with the amazing B.O.B. jogging stroller my wonderfully thoughtful husband bought me for my birthday. However, Amelia screamed pretty much throughout all of Monday morning's run and I think the weather, while perfect for me, has turned a bit too cold for her. I mean, it was 48 degrees this morning! I couldn't in good conscience just wrap her up and head out.

I was nervous. I've never been a big gym rat, preferring instead to run outside or use my own treadmill. I took yoga and step after having Asher to help kickstart the weight loss, but I've never actually enjoyed working out at a gym. After today though, I am sold. Consider me a newly born gym rat.

Did I mention the Y has child watch? That I can have up to two hours of child free exercise time EVERY DAY? It was bliss. Even having to run inside rather than out was worth the 40 minutes of peace and quiet this wonderful place provided for me. It was marvelous. I cannot over emphasize how nice it was to actually be doing something for me, alone. I felt recharged rather than hassled. Now I am totally ready to spend the day catering to my children's every whim.

The Village People certainly knew what they were talking about!

All I'm Losing is Me

I've been "off" this year, a lot. I'm not sure that I can pinpoint the exact reasons, but I have noticed a building disquiet within. Although, I'm 1/3rd of the way through my 30's, this doesn't feel crisis-ish. I don't want a newer car or younger man. I feel perfectly centered in my family and life, just not in my own skin.

I don't do well with change. Necessary as it may be, change makes me anxious. I'm not only referring to big changes, such as the move to Texas or the upcoming move to our new home. Little changes can also cause me anxiety. People dropping by with little or no notice, last minute scheduled playdates, being called off, called in, or sent home early from work, Amelia starting a new nap schedule, all these things have been known to cause me anxiety to some degree. They don't all send me into a tizzy, but too many at once and I start feeling a little like a cornered animal.

Now, lest you get the wrong idea, I'm not paralyzed by this anxiety. I am still able to do everything that's required of me and I can adapt to situational change. I just don't LIKE to. It's something that is very much out of my comfort zone. And I'm wondering if the buildup of all that's happened this year is what's causing my uneasiness. Almost like the body's ability, or inability rather, to process an overabundance of alcohol in a short amount of time. It feels like my psyche is no longer able to process all this change and I'll soon be spewing neurosis all over the place.

This isn't anything new for me. I don't ever recall being a "go with the flow" type of person. Growing up my family life was fairly chaotic, with at least nine people in a house at any given time you can't help but have chaos. My parents were always willing to be flexible, to take things as they come with an almost obstinate refusal to plan. They still live their lives in that manner. Visiting on a whim, going from place to place without any plans to settle down in one spot permanently. They must enjoy the excitement or rush of the unknown. They always clung to faith as their plan. Believing that "God will provide." Taking my childhood into account, I'm pretty sure it's textbook why I'm such an over-planning, control freak.

It's been said that the first step to change is admitting there is a problem. If that's the case, then there is no hope for me. I like being an over-planner. I like knowing the wheres, whens, whos, whats and hows of my adventures before setting out. I know Elijah would prefer a more casual, spontaneous, approach to life but I think he's gotten around that by letting me plan everything and then being surprised once we get going. So far, up until this year, it has worked for me.

I think I'll plan a change detox for next year. Starting January - no moving, no new babies, no new jobs, no crazy, unplanned, adventures of any kind. That may sound boring to you, but it sounds blissful to me. And I'm thinking it's the only way for me to get back on track and start feeling like myself again.

Cheap Date

A big upside to our unexpected out-of-town visitors was the free babysitting they provided last Saturday night. YIPPEE!!! I can't remember the last time Elijah and I were out alone, so we were definitely due for an evening away from the monkeys.

About four months ago Elijah attempted to arrange a lovely Mother's Day Brunch at Max's Wine Dive in downtown Austin. The brunch was a wash, as they had overbooked their couples with young kids, so we ended up walking out on our reservation. The manager called Elijah and offered to send him a $50 gift card. A week or so later, we received said card, along with a very nice note apologizing for the inconvenience. Not that that makes up for being stuck at 11 am on Mother's Day without a place to get a drink! But still I'm not one to throw away 50 dollars worth of free food.

We decided that this weekend would be a good time to give them a second chance so we headed downtown early in the evening. I'd worked Friday night, so we both knew we'd be home by 9:00 or I'd be the total wreck that I usually am once the sun goes down. As you can imagine we pretty much had the place to ourselves, although downtown was fairly busy owing to the UT/UCLA game.

The food was amazing! They pride themselves on producing comfort food for adults, encouraging you to order Syrah with your hot dog entree, and they absolutely deliver. We ordered from the appetizer menu because I was determined to taste their mac-n-cheese. I've tried, and failed, repeatedly to make homemade macaroni and cheese that has all the gooey goodness without that grainy texture that usually comes from not using Velveeta. They hit it spot on. It was perfect. And dessert, peach cobbler with cinnamon vanilla ice cream was amazing as well.

We spent the rest of the evening wandering around town, just hanging out. Although we didn't do anything crazy, it was really nice to just spend some well deserved alone time with Elijah.

I Feel Pretty

Look at me!!!

If you're reading me through a feed or in Google Reader then you HAVE to come by and see my new look.

Isn't it amazing?

Many thanks to Emily at June Lily Studio for her professionalism, talent and most importantly patience with me during this design experience.