Monday, August 31, 2009

one step forward, two steps ---- aahh i'm falling.

ever feel like that? like maybe you are making a little progress and then bam! you don't just feel like you took two steps back, you feel like you fell off a cliff?

i don't know why i put so much pressure on myself to accomplish something. and when i say "something" i actually mean just that. something. i don't have a particular goal in mind. why can't i be satisfied with the fact that i managed to send the kids off to school with all papers signed, lunches packed, the laundry started and i'm not completely behind at work?

why do i always want more? is it the universe telling me i'm not satisfied? nah, it's probably just the media. i don't know. i'm rambling. i'm venting. i put to much pressure on myself. and then sometimes not enough. i feel everything crashing down around me and i want to run away.

i'm tired of pushing and pushing and pushing, but i think the real truth is i've actually just started pushing and it's new and scary and i want to stop and hide.

a few months ago i made this comment on another blog post about blogging. i said "blogging, like life, is an ever-evolving process--something that has to be held lightly so it can reform itself when necessary and lead us where it needs to."

i liked it. enough to write it down and save it at my desk. 'cept i took out the two first words and just said, "life is...."

and it is. and i read that all the time and tell myself to let go, to hold onto all those things i love a little less tightly. to be careful and gentle with myself. to stop pressuring myself.

the trick is there has to be some push in there and that seems to be what i fight with myself the most -- the balance.

blech. i'm not sure what this post is about, but it just feels like it's time to start writing here again.

Saturday, August 15, 2009

Angel on Earth

I love NPR's Story Corps. This morning I heard this interview by an 11 year old. She is interviewing her mom who is a nurse for cancer patients. It is about the sweetest thing I have ever heard.

You need to go listen to it.

I am in bed suffering from either allergies, juryitis and/or just the blahs. But this story made me feel better. Hope you like it.

Tuesday, August 11, 2009

jury doodie

I had a summons for jury duty Monday. Guess what? I ended up on the jury of a civil case that is supposed to last until the end of the day Thursday.

All I will say is that it is excruciatingly boring. That said it's hard not to remember there are two parties sitting there that have a lot at stake and we are all trying to pay attention because I think we all really want to do what's right.

That said. Boring.

Today was the boy's first day of school. Luckily I had time to drive them to school and walk D7 into first grade. Of course he did great and barely even said good-bye to me. Actually, he didn't say good-bye to me.

I missed picking them up, but they both had a great day and my brain is fried and I can't wait until Friday.

Hope you are all having a great day.


Sunday, August 9, 2009

Back. To. School.

For the most part this is how I feel about the boys going back to school:

This will be the first year D7 is in school until 3:00 p.m. Eight glorious hours sans children. Sure I have to work. But I have to work when they are here and to all you people who say I am oh so lucky to work at home (OK, I am pretty lucky) let me tell you it is no party with kids running around the house, clients calling, the boss calling, video games going, children being hungry. I love not having to deal with homework and projects and deadlines and all that but man am I ready for the quietness of no children in the house.

On the other hand I have to keep myself from grabbing D7 every time he walks by, throwing him in the car and heading for the border. Either one, I don't care, just don't take my baby away from me and what the hell let's throw J11 in for good measure. Fifth grade sounds scary to me and I'm not going. He's headed into some possibly rough, definitely awkward years and maybe we can just run away and pretend they are not going to happen anyways.

I guess we'll stay in town and Tuesday morning I'll drive them over and yes I may shed one tiny little tear as D7 walks into school. But I'm pretty sure I'll be dry-eyed and possibly even dancing by the time I get to Starb*ucks. A. Lone.

Friday, August 7, 2009


A quiet street stretches out in front of my house and parallel to that street is the backyard of a retirement/assisted living apartment complex with a large pond and park for the residents. Everyone in the neighborhood walks their dogs on the no man's land between the complex's fence and the road.

Every fall and winter Canadian Geese land and decide they have come far enough south. This past spring I noticed a few had decided to not head back north and by early summer I knew why. Mommy and Daddy were waddling along with four or five fuzzy little babies behind them. Eventually we figured out their were two families and we've loved watching them grow this summer, catching a glimpse of them once or twice a week. Seeing them evolve from fuzzy little chicks to young geese with brand new feathers.

This morning I was walking the dogs along the fence and heard some honking above. I looked up and almost gasped. The babies, still not full grown, were easy to recognize, trailing behind their parents and forming the familiar V.

They were flying.

I’d like to think it was their first flight. Maybe it was. I wish I could have watched the lessons taught leading up to this morning. The attempts, the progress, the failures.

A few years ago my best friend Jennifer found some letters I had written to her at least ten years ago. She called me and read part of these letters and we laughed (and OK cried) at all the lamenting of unfulfilled dreams and lack of progress we were making and that we still, years later, felt exactly the same. . I can’t tell you the hundreds of phone calls, e-mails and chats we’ve had centered around the same subjects.

Yesterday Jenn e-mailed me an MP3 of this song. She wrote the lyrics (along with Greg Cox) and this is the first demo she’s had cut. You can read about the other musicians involved here.

I’ve listened to the song quite a few times and I still can’t get through it without crying. First of all, it’s a damn good song and one I would connect with even if I didn’t know her and the story behind it.

But mostly what I feel when I listen to it is that I am seeing her fly and in this case I have watched the progress. The lessons, the efforts, the failure. The fighting. The pushing ahead with the writing and that elusive process we call creating.

I’ve watched her push herself. Attempt to take off, fly a few feet, land, and try again. I think it is as miraculous and unexplainable as those young geese I saw this morning. I think it is beautiful and I am beyond proud of her. She’s flying. She’s finally flying.

I can’t wait to see her soar.

Thursday, August 6, 2009

August and Everything After

August always wears on me. Pulls me down, flattens me out. It's the time of year when I feel like there is nothing ahead of me. Nothing to look forward to. Everything I do is because I have to, not because I want to.

The kids are bored and anxious, hovering between dread and excitement about school starting next year.

I want to crawl into bed, pull the cool sheets up to my chin and wake up sometime in October when the cool, perfect weather breeds optimism.

I feel like I should be doing something right now. Something big. Something life-changing. Instead I'm pushing myself just to check the mundane things off my list -- laundry, dishes, cooking. I'm fighting that feeling that life is slipping by and when the kids are gone there will be nothing left. Like I lost myself.

Maybe that's what happens to me in August. Maybe the heat presses it out of me. It's when I wonder how I got here. To Georgia. In this house. This life. How I was so unfocused and is it to late to find my way now?

I guess not. It's just right now. I'm realizing I still don't know where I'm trying to go.

Saturday, August 1, 2009

Home Alone

Today I packed my husband and boys off to the beach for four days. FOUR DAYS!!! I am home alone for four days. They have been gone for eight hours and I have to tell you -- still. not. lonely.

It's like heaven. So far I have napped, read, napped, read, shopped, bought a lot of junk food (that I'm eating in bed, thank you very much) read some more, walked the dogs, blogged, and did I mention the reading?

It was so nice to pack for them and not myself and when I was helping load the car and I saw all those annoying things my husband does when we travel that pretty much drive me insane I was practically giddy that I didnt' have to deal with it.

I'd try to write something more profound but I'm to anxious to get to the ranch dip, chips and the last 100 pages of my book.