Between the Hours of 8 and 10

During the a.m. hours of eight and ten, when I don’t have school, I’m just waking up.  I’m rolling over groaning while wishing I could sleep a little longer.  I take the ten seconds it takes me to walk from my bed to Luke’s crib to convince myself that today I WILL nap when he does.  No laundry, no homework, no computer, no reading….just a long luxurious nap for me.  I have barely one eye open when I round the door of Luke’s room and I hear, “HI!”.  My day starts with a bouncing Luke who is obviously practicing for the Olympics.  It won’t be long and he’ll be doing a Punch Brani straight out of his crib and I’ll be forced to write down numbers to judge him every morning.  Is it 7:00 am?  Then a 3 it is!  Is it 9:00 am?  Then 10!  A 10 he is, baby!!!

By nine a.m. I’ve had some coffee, Luke’s had his blueberry waffle or banana and he has spread every toy he owns around the entire house.  I step on a matchbox car.  Is it nap time yet?  Because THAT hurts.

It’s 9:30, and somewhere in the last 30 minutes I’ve lost all  my sanity and started laundry, or made some phone calls that needed to be made, or started on a cleaning binge and now I’m boiling with adrenaline.  Crap.

At 10, the Luke decides he wants to nap and now Mommy is too wired.  Nap for him, more cleaning for me.

Every time.

By 7:00 p.m. every evening I tell myself I’m going to bed when Luke does.  I’m finishing up the dinner dishes and I can barely keep my eyes open.  I’ve packed all the lunches.  I’ve packed all the bags.  I’ve thrown the laundry down the stairs (HEY, it’s close).  I don’t know how I can stay awake another minute, but I do.  I play on the floor, I tickle the boy, I snuggle with a sleepy Lukey who is DEFINITELY sleepy but not ready to give in.

By 8:00 it’s time for him to go upstairs.   After I lay him down, I come back downstairs to finish up a few things and then that’s it, I’m going to bed!  But I don’t.  I end up awake until 11:00.  Suddenly it feels like I have a million things to do or I’ve finally thought of something to blog about.

And that’s what happens between the hours of 8 and 10.  Every time.

IOU

I went for a run yesterday.  I haven’t been running in a while, but the urge was there yesterday and the day was so beautiful, I couldn’t turn it down.  I didn’t have any other obligations to fulfill, so I decided to fulfill one to myself.

I may have mentioned before that I pray when I run.  Yesterday was no different and I was thanking Him profusely for everything I have.  Even though I want more.  Yes, I do.  But I need for nothing.  I’m working on that.

When I got home I checked the mail and found a letter from the State of Michigan saying I owe them 1900 dollars in back taxes from 2005.  I wasn’t sure how this could be.  A retired accountant does my taxes every year, but after reviewing the paper work, it seems to be true.  I felt sick.

I feel like financially I have tried to do everything right, but for some reason I keep finding myself needing to shell out more and more money when at the moment, it’s not coming in at top speed.  I feel like I’m trying to do the right thing by increasing my education with my skills in hopes that this is the best thing for our family.   For Luke.  For a possible child that doesn’t exist yet.

This letter defeated me.  Knocked me down a little.  But I’m good at standing back up.  I’m excellent at pushing forward.  I’ve almost perfected it.  The positive out look, the “meant to be” mindset.

Today on my way to school I was listening to my regular morning show that I enjoy.  To make a long story short,  the 27-year-old producer had done a radio show back in college with a friend that the show he’s on now has made fun of.  It was the J and B show and it was humorous when they play snippets from the show and laughed at their inexperience.   Well, J found out this weekend that his friend B, had just died from complications from the H1N1.  He had double pneumonia along with it, but other than that, was a healthy 27-year-old person.

I don’t know this person.  But I think of his mother.  I don’t know this person, but I think still think of it.  I think of it and it reminds me that 1900 dollars is nothing compared to the health of my family.  And I thank Him for that profusely as I climb the hill up to this building I now sit in waiting for class to start.

No amount of money is comparable at all.

 

Running

Just Like Donnie and Marie

The other day my dad called me inquiring about some information that wasn’t necessarily true, but I could tell he was bothered by it.  This information was really between he and my aunt, the aunt I’m the closest to.  Not long after the conversation with my dad, my aunt called and talked to me about their little tiff.  They were obviously in a fight.  She was telling me how when she was talking to my dad she could hear my brother in the back ground telling my dad to relax in more words or less.  Because my dad lives with my brother, hence the ironing board in the background of one these pictures….my dad never goes anywhere without his ironing board, I knew that my brother knew that there was a tiff happening.

So I text him in secret.

Me:  when we get old let’s not be like dad and aunt mary. let’s b like donnie and marie.

Brother:  what does that mean?  I am old!

Me:  no….i mean when we r old old like 65. ur 30’s r not old!

Brother:  No, that was a joke.  Who r donnie and marie?

Figures.

Me:  a brother & sister dancing/singing act from the 70’s.

Brother:  I’M NOT SINGING!  I might dance tho.

Me:  Fine.  I’ll sing, u dance.  I’ll dance some.

Brother:  k.

I’m so glad we worked that out.

 

Blog Share

Today is a special day!  Today is blog share day!  The post below has not been written by me, instead it’s written by anonymous.  I have written a post that is also posted anonymously on another blog that is participating.  The list of participating blogs can be found here.  Enjoy!

 

Despite being a very friendly person and a generally good friend, I’ve had bad “friend luck” for the past few years. I moved to my current city over four years ago, and I’ve never really found my niche. Actually, that’s not entirely true; I’ve found my niche several times, just in time for my friends to move away. I’ve historically been the “friend who moved away,” so I don’t feel like I have much room to complain. Despite this admission, I am complaining. I’m loudly bellowing my complaint, because finally – after multiple years of flakey “friends” who don’t ever put any kind of care into our alleged friendship – I have a terrific, wonderful, awesome gal pal. And she recently told me in secret that she’s moving in a few months.
Don’t get me wrong, I fully support her decision to move. This move is going to increase her quality of life tenfold, and I’m more than thrilled for her. She’ll only be a short (and cheap) plane ride away, which is a vast improvement over most of my long-distance friendships. But I’m still sad, and I’ll miss her.
I don’t understand why I find it so difficult to make true, deep, good friends as I get older. I worry sometimes that I’ll wind up a loner, relying solely upon my spouse for friendship and socialization. While I know that this fear is unrealistic – I’m too gregarious for that – saying goodbye to my friend leaves me wondering how long it will be before I find another real friend. What if it never happens?
I know that I’m inordinately lucky in friendship. I have many wonderful, beautiful, close friends, despite the fact that they don’t live nearby. I know I should appreciate my blessings, count my chickens, whatever cliche you want. Selfishly, perhaps childishly, though… I am just going to miss my friend.