Saying goodbye and new beginnings

Saying goodbye:

to 3yo preschool
to EO Smith high school (at least for another 2-3 years)
to the childhood of my eldest (how did this happen so quickly?)
to Kindergarten
to 4th grade
to 5th grade
to 10th grade
to the many dreams I've had about attending college for agronomy(personally, this is a tough one and the mourning has just started)
to a year of 2nd Company at Dance Express

New beginnings:

Manchester Community College & Federal Student Aid forms
4yo preschool
1st grade
5th grade
6th grade
11th grade
picking up the "go green" thread in hubby's business and running with it - having something of my own so I feel like I'm contributing something...anything.


My heart is aching with all the goodbyes and is so heavy in so many uncountable ways, but I see a light - a hope for the future - in all the new beginnings. I am praying (literally) for my path as a mom, a wife and as a person to be clear. For God to open doors and/or (large) windows so I might know that I'm on the right path.

I'm not much of a friend these days and for that, I apologize. I'm so caught up in trying to manage the constant lump in my throat and the tears that never seem to be too far away that I have left things unsaid (like birthday wishes, hugs, kind words). I am having a hard time taking care of even the littlest of things. I feel like I am in "safe mode". Nothing gained and nothing lost. Just trying to get through the days.

Perhaps after this coming weekend (J's graduation from high school and B's tryouts for 1st Company) I'll be in a better place. I sure hope so. I don't think I can handle this much longer.

It's *THAT* time of year again!

Hell week.

Ok, well, perhaps I'm going a bit overboard with the exaggeration.

So we are drawing to a close for the dance year. Our recital is this weekend and it is being held at the Bushnell Belding Theater in Hartford. Our usual theater, the Jorgensen , on the UCONN campus in Storrs, is under a major renovation. Boooooo! Hisssssss! While I concede that it is a pretty cool honor to say that you've danced on stage at the Bushnell, I can tell you from a parent's end, it has been pretty awful.

First off, we could not barter our tickets this year. We had to schlep to the box office in Hartford to buy them (we don't have a CC). So that involved having cash. Cash to the tune of hundreds of dollars. Spring is a struggle financially every year for us, but it is even worse when you're in a financial hole and trying to get out. Ticket prices from D.E. were $15. The rest of the ticket price was all added stuff from the Bushnell. $25 each. Thanks. My butt feels GREAT!

Secondly, the Sunday show was already sold out by the time we had the cash to purchase the tickets. It was looking bleak getting tickets from the dance studio so I took matters into my own hands yesterday and contacted my friend, R., who has shown me the "Company Ropes" this year. By last evening, I had two tickets to Sunday's show. I guess it is strange that Chris and I wanted at least one of us to be at every show, but Sunday was the only day we could watch Becca dance en Pointe. I have never seen that particular dance and was bummed that I might only be able to watch it on DVD a month from now.

And last, but def. not least, tomorrow is full dress rehearsal. ALL DAY. We need to arrive at the theater before Noon and will not be done until after 5pm. My plan was to take the two girls and T. out of school for the day not remembering that T. has a field trip. Thankfully, he is actually visiting the State House and other landmarks in our capital city so after many back and forth phone calls with his teacher, I am picking him up sometime during the afternoon and he will likely be walking distance from the Bushnell - at least that is what I'm hoping for.

Today I have sewing (major sewing & not so major sewing) and a slew of errands to run. Hubby also gave me the go to purchase a flip video camera so I can video all the dances this year. Not sure I'll even be able to do that, but I def. will try.

And for those of you who know me, you also know that my tummy is in knots because I hate change. I was comfy at the Jorgensen. We've been going there for 9 years now. I don't even know where I am going at the Bushnell (although I do know how to get there now - thank God for small mercies). I am especially worried that I won't be able to keep up with all the hair changes or that I'll do something totally stupid and the big girl will be mortified that I'm her mother. It sounds so silly when I say that out loud, but definitely a real fear. I know I don't "fit in" with anyone else. I'm not girly nor do I know much about make up or hair. Being at these things brings me right back to being a little girl and never saying the right thing or having the right family life. Logically, I know that's crap. I hope logic wins out this weekend and that my emotions take the back seat for once.

And just because this week & weekend might not push me over the edge fast enough, looming in the background of my head is also the fact that we will have exactly one week off (from dance) and then tryout camp will start for those who want to tryout for competing or company. The big girl has to make 1st Co. this year because of her age. I hope & pray she does. Ms. B. did tell hubby that she's pretty sure she will, but it will really depend on the hired judges. On that Friday, Jeremy will graduate high school. I haven't even let my head go there. I can't. I.just.cant. /sob/ The next day will be company tryouts and a graduation celebration out to dinner for Jeremy. And that brings us to Sunday which is Father's Day. Did I miss anything? Can someone send me the WAAAAAAAHHHHmbulance now?

I'll just keep chanting "Serenity now!". That will help, right?!

Really?

So the birthday and big bash party are over. Good times although I've come to the realization that parties held in my honor aren't as fun as I thought they'd be. I really am over being the center of attention. Now could someone please explain to me why the hell I feel like I am suffocating under sad thoughts and self medicating with food? I mean really? What gives?

I cannot put my finger on what the heck is going on in my brain. I feel down, but I don't know why and clearly eating cake for lunch and cheesecake for dinner is a self medicating thing for me. Sweets make me feel good. Of course, after I've consumed so much of them, I'm not feeling good. And sweet honey, my tummy is a flipping mess from all the junk.

I do not know why I am feeling sad. Things are going well here. Kids are doing ok except for the whole not listening part and total groundings that the middle boys are experiencing. Hubby and I are connecting on a regular basis and our relationship is at a point where I get butterflies in my tummy again just kissing him. There is plenty of work, food and we're catching up slowly, but surely.

Perhaps it is partly having a son that is about to graduate and has no firm plans for after graduation or just being tired of the whole dance routine which is quickly coming to an end for the year. I think most likely that turning 40 has brought about some feelings of "where am I going?". Me. What have I accomplished? I think I will always struggle with the fact that I haven't gone to college or had a major career outside being a Mom. Don't get me wrong, I think deep down I know that I am doing what I am meant to do right now, but that doesn't mean I don't think about what I could be doing once I'm done being a SAHM. I also look at my tired body and wonder why it was so easy to let it go and how freaking hard it is to make it into something I'm happy with. It feels like a never ending struggle to stay healthy and I never seem to lose any good amount of weight. Frankly, it's a real pain in the ass and I'm at the end of my rope struggling with it all. Knowing what you should be doing and doing it are two totally different things!

So right now I am going to put on some shorts, my running shoes and try to RUN the measly two miles up and down the side street. I am not bringing the dogs, but instead my iPod and I'm going to try and figure out what the hell is wrong with me. In the mean time, if you have any ideas on how I can get out of this funk, I'd appreciate it.

My first post as a 40 year old

Pondering life at 40 years old?


Damn...written out it sure looks scary, doesn't it?! It doesn't feel scary. I don't "feel" forty anymore than I felt thirty or thirty five or thirty nine. For me, it really is just a number.

I did have a sort of rude awakening at the Cape over Mother's Day weekend, however. I stepped out of the shower and because there is a HUGE mirror right there, I noticed that I have developed pretty scary "buh bye" arms. You know...the kind where they keep waving even after you stop?! I can laugh about it now, but it did hit me hard that I am indeed looking middle aged these days. My face? Maybe not so much, but the rest of my body is giving itself away!

I had a really nice birthday weekend. Rang in my birthday sleeping under the stars in my new tent and even newer sleeping bag with children, numbers 3, 5 & 6. Unfortunately, my air mattress has a leak so by the time 3am rolled around, I was basically sleeping on the hard ground. It gets pretty cold outside at night in May - just in case you were wondering. The best part was watching number 6 wake up and realize she had slept outside all night. It was magical.

I woke up for good at 5:30am, took a shower to warm my bones and got ready for a 5k. Wunned the 5k (walked/ran) with some great friends, came home, took some laundry off the line, took the tent down and put away all the blankets back into the linen closet and then physically hit a wall. I was wiped. I laid down for a nap for an hour or so and then we all headed to my BIL & SIL's house for dinner.

Enjoyable dinner, but came home with a kickin' migraine so I basically took some meds and hit the sack. Now I'm looking forward to my big birthday bash this weekend. Can't wait to see friends & extended family and celebrate my milestone with the people I love best. Life is good. Damn good.

I'm going to leave you with some pictures from outside around the house. The bumblebee pictures were taken close to my clothesline on the perimeter of the garden. I love the bees...they buzz around doing their thing as I quietly do my thing hanging up my laundry and pondering things in life. The irises are near the chaise lounge shaped rock in the grassy U-shape of the driveway and my garden is tilled and ready for planting - hopefully this weekend.
My friend the bumblebee
Iris
Garden tilled & ready for planting
Another favorite - buttercups

Family Friends

I've extolled the virtues of women friends here before - the incredulous state that having so many of them has left me in when I think about it. I haven't shared about my female familial friendships, however, and after this past weekend, it seemed to me that I should.

My own sister was my best girl friend for years and years. We drifted apart for awhile, but are slowly finding our way back to each other. We both have changed over the years and we both are in totally different places in our life, but we will always have a sister bond that ties our hearts. It doesn't matter how many miles or years seem to come between either. She probably knows more about me than anyone except for my husband and I know if I ever needed anything, my sister would move a mountain to get it to me. We are family, through & through, and no one could ever break that bond.

My husband's sister is my "sistah from another mistah". Yes, that is what I call her. She can make me LAUGH. And when I say laugh, I mean huge belly laughs that come from your toes. The kind that tears stream down your face and your abs feel like you've done at least 200 crunches or the kind that make you spew hot coffee onto your computer screen. We text each other almost every single day and I can say that she is definitely the Thelma to my Louise. We have shared so much in the last 23+ years...tears, laughter, anger....we've definitely run the gamut of emotions with each other and yet, there is no one else I'd rather have riding shotgun. "Hold on to your hats, boys!" will always be a phrase that makes me think of her and the good times we've had with our, now, big boys.

My younger brother-in-law's wife and I haven't always had the most comfortable relationship, but with baby steps we find it easier to love & trust each other. Our children are certainly what ties us to each other. Their four and our youngest four share birthdays no more than 2 1/2 months apart - two having birthdays only 5 days apart. I have often remarked that our children continually show us the way to treat each other as they all have a strong bond between them from the 11 year olds down to the 3 year olds. Despite rocky times, we've shared many laughs and tears and I am blessed to call her my sister. I look forward to our journey together and believe that the rockiest of times are behind us.

My elder brother-in-law's wife is a relative newcomer to the family. She and I shared an instant bond for our childhoods were very common, but even more than that, we are the same age - not even a month between us. We share the bond of growing up with dysfunction & alcoholism. We share the bond of "control" which often gives us a good laugh (not us!?). It is almost as if we "mirror" each other on some level - seeing in each other the goodness & lovable parts that we can't or refuse to see in ourselves. She and I can talk deep or we can be silly school girls. The nicest thing is that it doesn't matter how many months flow between meet ups. We just seem to pick up where we left off and continue our journey together.

My mother in law - the rock & center of our family. She has over the course of 23+ years become my other mom. I love her, respect her and would do just about anything if I knew it would make her happy. She is strong yet tender - wise yet graceful and she gave me the most amazing gift which is my husband. Over the years I have found her ears are great for listening, her shoulder is good for a cry and most of all, her heart is always with her family which I am blessed to be part of. She also makes one helluva birth attendant and was in the delivery room for the last 3 out of 6 births. The thankfulness that I feel in having such a wonderful relationship with her is beyond any words known to mankind.

Add these family members to my already wonderful group of girlfriends and you can see just how blessed I am. How after almost 40 years, I am learning that girlfriends, do indeed, matter.

Getting the lead out

This is what I need to do.

I started training in earnest today for my next 5k which is oddly enough on my 40th birthday. My knees hurt and my shins are killin' me! Running on the roads is far tougher on your body than running on the treadmill, that's for sure. Unfortunately, I would rather be on the road with the dogs than anywhere else at this point. It's time for me to put up or shut up.

Today I had a rather slow pace (3.4 miles in roughly 45 mins.), but I ran more than I have in a long time. I took the dogs with me again and poor Guinness was barely alive by the time we got home. She was foaming at the mouth and flopped down onto the tile floor as soon as we got into the house. Bailey was pretty worn out as well. Both dogs pretty much drank two bowls full of water after today's workout. I have a goal to make the loop (4.7 miles) in just under an hour BEFORE participating in the 5k on May 16th. I'm not sure Guinness is quite ready for almost 5 miles, but I would feel so awful leaving her home.

And that brings me to another question I am asking myself. Do I want to run this next 5k or walk it? I know I can run one. I've done it twice. Part of me feels that by me not running, I will be cheating myself out of something or not doing "my best", but the other part of me feels that I have already proven myself and if I want to walk, who cares? Decisions, decisions. Either way, I plan to be ready for it and either way, I know it will be fun.

Did you ever have one of *THOSE* days?

Mine was yesterday.

It started off pretty decent. The kids got on the bus, I drank my coffee, started laundry....the usual. And then I noticed the school had called when I was out hanging a load of laundry on the line in gale force winds. Yes, I'm serious about the wind. The message that was left told me Em was in the nurse's office and complaining of a tummy ache. GAH.

I jumped in the shower, threw on some clothes, ran the blow dryer over my head a few times and was out the door. When I got to the school, Em started crying and telling me that she did not want to go home and that she was fine, but the nurse said she was pale & then flushed & then pale and yeah, so it didn't look good.

I strapped her into her carseat (while she continued to cry that she wanted to stay at school) and I thought I probably should have brought the vomit bucket. We made the 1.8mi. trek home and she did fine. No sooner than we walked in the door that she was asking for lunch. DUDE...it's only 9:30am. So she ate her snack of pretzel sticks & ice water. By 11:30 she was chomping at the bit for lunch. PB&J comin' up. Every time I went out to hang laundry she was right there with me. Mama, Mama, Mama, Mama, Mama as I am holding on for dear life to the line & clothes because the wind is whipping in a very bizarre fashion. I wondered if I would hit my head and end up in the Emerald City a couple of times.

So I am trying to formulate a plan for the day. I have promised whoopie pies & empanadas for the reunion committee. Eh, no problem. I get started on them. I also think about what quick and easy thing I can make for supper since it is a day that Bec needs to be picked up at school and brought to dance. That cuts more than an hour out of my schedule. I get all the cookie parts of whoopie pies made (chocolate & oatmeal) before I have to leave to get Bec.

Around 4:30p I tell all the kids to get into the truck (Chris had planned to be home, but didn't make it) and as I start up the truck I remember that I have very little gas. 44 miles until E. F&*^. I call the hubster and he tells me it is fine. I have plenty to get to Bec's school and to the gas station where we have an account. Ok fine. I make good time until I hit the main road. Traffic is unusually slow. All of a sudden fire trucks and ambulances race past and I see an accident right near where I need to take a right turn to get to Bec's school. I instead fly through the mall parking lot and bypass the accident all together. I finally get the big girl and we're off to dance.

We make it out of Willimantic when I notice the lights are not working near the highway. Sure enough the road is closed. DETOUR. But I don't know where I am. I don't have Garmin or TomTom. I do the next best thing. Follow the guy in front of me and hope he knows where he is going. We get through and are on the main road again. I think, ok, we should be ok on gas still....we don't have THAT much longer to go. Drive on a little way and WHA? Another F*%@ing DETOUR?! This time there are a LINE of cars. Oh and we're on dirt roads and I still don't know where I am. I'm watching my gas gauge go down, down, down and we're still on dirt roads. Finally we get to what is part of the UConn campus, but by now I am a sobbing mess. I finally get my bearings and hubby tells me that he'll meet me at the gas station just a couple miles away. By the time I reached the gas station I had 8 miles to E. EIGHT.

I get some gas, hurry the hell up and get the girl to dance (we're late now). Run her in so I can pin her bra for her and hurry on home. I arrive home after 6pm. I still have to make dinner. I still have to make the filling for the whoopie pies. Heck, I still have to roll out the empanada dough, cut them out, fill them and bake them. So I get started doing 4 things at once (never a good idea) and have Thomas help me with preparing the gourmet meal of hot dogs in beans and homemade mac & cheese. No veggies because I'm such a good mom like that.

I then try to make the filling. I do everything wrong. I work too fast. There is powdered sugar EVERYWHERE. Dude...not even kidding you. I finally just break down and cry saying I just can't do anymore, make a small platter of whoopie pies with filling that is too runny, change my powdered sugar covered sweatshirt, try to make something out of my awful yucky hair and grab my reunion notebook. Oh and two beers. Hubby drives me up the street and I share my woes with the girls. I'm so glad I went. Because honestly, that meeting was the highlight of a rather awful day.

Some days you're the windshield and some days you're the bug. Yesterday, I was totally the bug.