Life

The interview

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I was nervous.

I didn’t know what questions would be asked.

I looked at 100’s of interview questions trying to be prepared.

I looked in my closet wondering what I could possibly wear.

The schools were closed and the roads were slick.

I didn’t know if I would be able to get there.

Who cancels first? I really didn’t know.

My child was sick.

I called the doctor.

Was her mouth swollen from the strep or an allergic reaction to the Amoxicillan?

I was put on hold.

The minutes tick away…

Would I make it there on time?

Could I even go??

Just strep.

Eight inches of snow fell overnight. It was starting to rain.

Would I go in the ditch on the way?

Would the sidewalks be shoveled or could someone in dress shoes (who was training for a half iron) possibly twist an ankle and fall down?

Break a leg!

I was frantic, but made it to the interview with a few minutes to spare.

This was my first time as an interviewer..

I think I found the candidate I like.

It is hard to turn the other applicants down.

Owning a business is so much more than just doing what you are good at.

The Chicago drama…

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Just a short recap…I got my pants back. Yes! I didn’t have to see Hamilton in PJ’s!

After getting my pants back Friday night, we stopped at the hospital to visit Martha. She was doing a lot better and was moved out of the ICU. I felt a lot better heading to Chicago knowing things were better at home. Plus, I had pants.. There’s that!

I won’t bore you with the trip down to Chicago as it was very uneventful. We checked into our hotel and headed for a late afternoon showing of the Blue Man Group. It was an awesome high energy show.

We took the subway to the show. We stuck out like a sore thumb all dressed to the nines and all. There was a man that wanted money to help Paul get a subway pass. The security guard asked if we were okay. Immediately after entering the subway, we saw a man that had a sign that said ‘Hungry as F*ck’. He appeared to be sleeping. The subway car smelled like piss, but being on it didn’t scare me. I just fear irrational things.

It was bitterly cold in Chicago with wind chills below zero. I broke down and bought myself a hat. I watched the passersby from the window as we ate supper late Saturday night. Young girls walked with streets on their way out in short skirts, high heels, and no coats. There was a group of young guys with pants that didn’t cover their rears. I thought that went out with the 90’s. Guess not? Everyone looked so cold. I finally reached the age were being warm is more important than looking cool.

I had a hard time sleeping at night. I thought I heard someone getting murdered out in the street in the middle of the night. I looked out my window in the morning to see if I could glimpse a body in the dumpsters.

I have also been waking up with nightmares. I have this crazy fear when it is cold outside that I forgot to let the dog back in and he is freezing to death. My son was staying at his friend’s house down the road and was going to be pet sitting. I worried that the dog was out all night. Sometimes at home, I get up to check that the dog is alive and inside. It is a totally irrational fear that I can’t seem to shake.

But you want to hear about the sold out Hamilton?? The musical was greater than I ever expected it to be. Angel sat in front of the computer literally all day the minute the tickets went on sale. She was able to snag tickets for Paul, my mom, her boyfriend Mitch, and I. The tickets had an obstructed view. I had a pole in the middle of my view. Regardless, the show was absolutely awesome. It was worth it!

Then came the long trip back home. We got lost trying to find our car after the show. It seemed like the skyscrapers stopped our navigation from working properly. So we ended up wandering around the streets in our dress clothes in the bitter cold cursing modern technology.

It was so bright in Chicago on the dark night that we failed to notice that our headlights were off. We drove through downtown Chicago and were on the interstate when I noticed that someone opened her car window and was frantically waving at me. It was then that we figured out our lights were off the whole time.

It was at this time that Arabella started calling me. She stayed over at a friend’s for a birthday party and got dropped off at home. She said that she wasn’t feeling well and might have strep. She was feverish and delirious. She complained of being cold. She said that she was going to turn on the oven and open the door to warm up. It freaked me out that she was home alone sick and we were a long way from home.

We finally got home late last night. I checked on Arabella. The house was trashed but the pets were alive. Alex overfed Angel’s fish so that caused a fight. But it was a lot better than our arrival home from Florida last year when our pet sitter was stuck in the snow bank after trying to leave our house that was covered in dog crap, vomit, and urine. Fun times!

I had to take poor Arabella to the doctor today. She does have strep and is delirious when feverish. She was crying and arguing with me about why she should cut her hand off. When asked if anyone else was sick in her house, she responded that the pets were very sick with fleas. She was convinced that the doctor was trying to steal from her. We sure had some interesting conversations.

The saga continues…

 

Left without pants…

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This morning I had a new bedroom set delivered to our house. Previous to the new set, I have been using the same bedroom set that my grandparents bought me in 3rd grade. Let’s just say that it has been a long time since I have been in 3rd grade. It has been a while since my kids were that young. More drawers were broken than not.

After the delivery men left, I noticed I made a gross error. I forgot to remove my pants from one dresser drawer. It was the drawer that contained my dress pants and nice jeans.

Tomorrow morning we are leaving to spend the weekend in Chicago to see the sold out Hamilton. And wasn’t I just the one complaining about people wearing pajama bottoms to concerts??

To make things a bit more interesting, I have two interviews with potential employees lined up very early next week. Can I hope that we have similar hobbies and they show up in running pants too? Yeah, probably not..

When I called the company earlier, it sounded promising that they would be able to find my pants. I felt like a complete idiot until the customer service rep said that one time the delivery drivers left with someone’s pet..

Why do these things always happen to me?? Why??!?

A flame’s last few flickers 

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Yesterday I spent the evening in the ICU.

My mother-in-law Martha collapsed on her way to her doctor appointment. An elderly friend of Martha was taking her to her appointment, pulled over when Martha said she was going to be sick, and couldn’t get her back in the car.

The rescue squad transported her to the nearest hospital where they had no room in their ICU. Then they transported her to a hospital a couple of hours away. This was good news for us because Martha was 20 minutes away versus 2 hours away. 

We drove in nervous silence to the hospital. It was a long, windy, and bitterly cold day. It seemed like I had to park miles away from the door. The sharp winds whipped my face and stung. I ran to get in as fast as I could, but I really didn’t want to go. I was afraid of what I would find. I was afraid of how I might respond.

We searched for a long time down empty corridors for Martha’s room. We didn’t know where to go or what was happening. We weren’t sure what to expect. We had many questions and no answers.

We finally found the ICU. Only 2 visitors were allowed at a time. Paul and Angel went in first. While we were waiting, Martha’s husband Darryl arrived. Angel came out crying. My other 2 children went in. Angel sat on my lap and I held her in my arms while she cried. 

Darryl and I were the last ones to enter. Paul helped me tie on my gown and I put latex gloves on as was ICU protocol. Then I saw Martha. She was so weak, sick, and fragile looking. She asked me if I was okay since I looked so tired. Her concern for me was strangely touching as she was the one in the hospital bed hooked up to machines. She was getting a blood transfusion and had a couple more bags being emptied into her body. She had to sign a consent form but couldn’t quite remember how to spell her name. 

She told me that if she didn’t make it home, I should go through her items with the girls and take what I wanted even though she said she doesn’t have much. I told her I would.

It was all very beautiful and ugly at the same time. All of our previous issues faded away into the past. Yet I felt like I was in the way of the nurse. I didn’t know what to do. There was nothing I could do. Nothing but be there for her as her light starts to fade during her flame’s last few flickers.  

Soon our brief time together came to an end. I tore off my gown and threw it in the garbage along with my gloves. I washed my hands in the the sink. Martha told me that she loved me. I told her that I loved her back. 

After a long glance, I walked away and didn’t look back.     

In too deep…again..

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In 2016, I kept track of how many miles I ran and biked over the year. I’m sure glad that is over! Keeping track of it all was a lot of work.

Running: 794 miles

Biking: 298 miles

I also did Jillian Michael’s video No More Trouble Zones 15 times. I am happy to report that my trouble zones are now gone. Thanks Jillian!

This past year I achieved my goals of competing in one 5k, one 10k, a half marathon, a full marathon, and my first sprint triathlon.

Now I am looking forward to a new year with very challenging goals.

I tend to like to dip my feet in the water before jumping in all the way.

I am happy to start with a 10k or sprint because I have learned so much before moving on to bigger and better things. The first race I ever ran was a large 10k. The first mile that I ran I was so terrified that I wanted to run off the course and sit down with the spectators. I wasn’t expecting anxiety. I learned from that experience.

I also learned from my first sprint triathlon. I learned how to ride a race bike which is a lot different from the bike I tore around town in as a kid. I am still learning how and when to switch gears. I relearned balance and speed, but not without going into the ditch on a turn. I learned where to bike to avoid cars. I also learned not to hug the ditch after almost hitting a skunk.

I learned that I am not as good of a swimmer as I thought I was. My two months of lessons as an 8 year old never prepared me for this. At race speed, I had a hard time maintaining a rhythmic breathing pattern. I didn’t take into consideration needing to take breaths more often. I was the one floundering around doing the doggy paddle gasping for breath. I also noticed that my left arm is a lot stronger than my right and ended up taking myself into deep water versus staying on course. To go any further with this, I need swimming lessons and a lot more practice.

More lessons learned..

Yesterday, I signed up for my third marathon. I know that I told you to talk me out of it, but it is too late. I also signed up for my first trail half marathon. I am going to do these events with my cousin.

I also mentioned finding a wet suit for myself on clearance. While I was at the fitness store, I ran into the director of a triathlon on Lake Michigan. He said that last year the swimmers faced 1 to 2 foot waves. Half of the participants couldn’t do it. The ones that did felt like they were on a roller coaster ride and not in a good way. Then the participants had to bike in rainy conditions. It was very grueling and many didn’t make it. The sad part was that I didn’t cringe in terror. Something inside of me said sign up. Crazy!?!!

Yesterday I went on the triathlon’s website just for the heck of it. I noticed that the tri was open for less than 24 hours and was nearing full capacity. That is how I ended up signing up for my first half Iron. Now I am absolutely cringing in terror, but excited too.

Looks like I will have more adventures to share with you (lessons to learn)…

Happy New Year!

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Yesterday morning this was the sight in my kitchen. Seems like I can never have a proper party without trashing my house.  I spend all day cleaning and cooking only to be faced with it again. 

I had a smashing party! Literally. At the crack of midnight, Alex’s friend smahed his head against the table 5 times starting the new year with a bang. Not to mention a swollen, bruised, and bleeding face. I’m surprised that I haven’t had a late night knock on the door from a mother screaming about a concussion and a law suit for the nefarious happenings at my house. What can I say? My house was over run that night with teenagers. Ten teens to be exact and 3 other kids…One of the teen girls was very attractive and possibly single if that explains anything. 

So I spent the next morning cleaning up after the party. I threw out the items that were broken. I searched for the items that were lost of stolen. I started a new year’s resolution to never to have a New Year’s Eve party again. Then I took down my Christmas tree and purged my house of 2016.

After a sleepless night and a snow storm of cleaning, I packed the kids up in my car and headed on the long trip to visit my mother-in-law. Paul left to spend a couple of days with her early in the morning, but I couldn’t rouse the kids before noon. My MIL, Martha, has stage 4 terminal lung cancer. She drastically declined since our last visit. Her figure that once had a little padding is now reduced to grayish yellow skin on bones. Her clothes were baggy, even her glasses were too big for her gaunt face. Her once jet black curls were replaced by patches of gray hair.  She coughed and wheezed with every inhalation. 

Martha was happy to see us. We had a nice visit for a few hours, then went home. The trip home was sorrowful. Angel was certain that she would never see her grandmother alive again since it is almost time to go back to college in a town far away. Our spirits were low. 

So I did what I had to do. 

I took the kids out to a Chinese buffet. I thought maybe it would cheer them up a little. Everyone got a good fortune cookie, except Alex. His fortune cookie was empty. I’ve only saw that happen to one other person. Me. When I was his age. It really bothered me back then. I thought that perhaps I would get hit by a bus or something. Alex said that meant we could create our own future, that we are really lucky according to Google.

I thought a lot the last couple of days about this new year. We were invited to sail the Caribbean with some new friends for their honeymoon. Regrettably, due to my MIL’s failing health, we had to turn down our spot on the love boat (yuck anyway). Instead, we will stay closer to home. This next weekend we are heading to Chicago as my daughter Angel was lucky to get tickets to see Hamilton.  
Being in a musical is just a much fun (if not more) than watching them. Angel has a lead role in her college opera this spring. Paul, Arabella, and I are going to try out for the local community theater musical this week. I am hoping to get the part of a floozy. I haven’t been on stage for 5 years and am nervous and excited to be back.

Paul and I will be celebrating our 20th anniversary this summer. Where did the time go?? We will go on a week long sailing trip to celebrate this summer. However, we decided to not go to Tahiti next winter to celebrate but chose Thailand instead. We have friends that live over there. What is better than having our own tour guide that speaks our language to show us around off the beaten path?? We are planning on visiting Bangkok April of 2018 for their New Year festival. It is very hot and humid during that time, but we want to go to celebrate their New Year as they have several days of country wide water fights. It would be the trip of a lifetime. Plus I would get closer to checking off visiting all of the continents off my bucket list especially since I have never left my own continent.

So, I will save my pennies and look forward to sunnier days during these dark times.

I hope that you all have a wonderful new year! 

Boot thief

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I am going to take the kids to see my mother-in-law this weekend.

The last time I visited, she accused me of stealing her boots. She said that someone, possibly my daughters or I, took her boots and left a pair that looked just like hers behind.

I really didn’t know what to say. Why would I steal my dying mother-in-law’s boots?

I admit, my relationship with my mother-in-law Martha has been rocky at times.

I am structured and overly responsible. Martha is spontaneous and irresponsible. She is usually late and she only does what she feels like doing. If she doesn’t feel like doing something, she won’t do it. She might cancel out last minute after she made a commitment. She usually has good intentions.

She once cancelled out of going to her grandchildren’s birthday party because it was going to be too hot outside and we were having the party outdoors. Or it might rain or might snow. Or she spent all her money at the casino and didn’t have enough for gas. Or she had to work. Or she was sick. Or the hot water heater stopped working and she couldn’t shower. Or the car broke down. Or she needed to go shopping instead. All of these excuses have been used.

Some of my biggest pet peeves are when people don’t do what they say they are going to do or when they cancel out last minute without a good reason.

Most of the time, I didn’t argue. The handful of times that I did over the past 20 some years angered Martha enough not to talk to me for years. Martha is always right. It was never her fault. It’s not worth arguing. I just nod my head and smile if I disagree. It is not worth having my children not have their grandma in their lives over.

I am a peaceful person that avoids conflict, but is never at peace. I am the one that is upset. I am the one that is hurt.

I have learned over time to lower my expectations. I am not upset that she accused me of stealing her boots. Martha is a difficult person. Paul and I talk about the things that bother us so it doesn’t fester into something bigger.

Really, what does Martha care if I am upset??

She is the biggest owner of rose colored glasses that I know. She is happy. She talks of all the things she is going to do when she kicks this terminal cancer. She is happy while she is getting chemo. She thinks she is getting better. She has always lived in her dream world of lies. She is happy. She is happy. She is happy..

I am a realist and I am completely miserable.

Some have called me a pessimist and I would argue. But I would admit I am not an optimist. I want to have both feet on the ground. I want to know the facts. I want to know the truth. I see the world as it really is and sometimes that bothers me.

Is such honesty worth it? Try as I might, I can’t seem to change.

 

Proper middle school concert etiquette

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This has been my 8th consecutive year of being a parent of at least one middle school child. Over the years I have learned a thing or two. This is my last year and I am ready to graduate!

If you are a new parent of a middle schooler, pity!! These years are the hardest with so many major changes for the first time. Hormones, growth spurts, dating, fitting in…just to name a few.

Hey, it’s a scary time for parents too.

I want to give helpful, yet humorous, advice on proper etiquette for the middle school concert goer.

Let’s face it, middle school concerts suck!

The kids are just not cute anymore like they were in preschool or grade school. Some of the students have been playing their instruments for 2 months before their first winter concert. They don’t come close to high school or college performances.

I have seen an appalling new trend over the past couple of years of parents yelling out their child’s name as they are approaching the stage. Parents, this is trashy and not at all classy. Or even worse, when the students shout back from the stage. This is not melodious at all.

I like to pretend I paid a lot of money to see this performance. If I consider how much I pay in taxes, I did.

I like to wear something nice. No jeans with holes. No work out clothes. No pajamas…I don’t think pajamas are proper attire for concert goers. I just don’t, even though they were seasonal and really cute.

Let’s talk for a moment about proper concert attire…

It would be wise to have your child set aside his or her concert attire a week or two before the show. If at all possible, hide it in a secret corridor that only you have access to. But never more than two weeks before. If you have things ready a month in advance that is admirable, but your child is sure to grow a foot or two. Did you see the boy whose pants were shorts?

Then there was my child. He said he was prepared, but always lost or outgrew his dress shoes the night of the concert and had to borrow his dad’s dress shoes that were ill fitting.

But my personal favorite is when the girls show up to the concert in a dress they wore from grade 2. Please don’t bend over if you drop something. Or better yet, the comments about the scantily clad girls from the teen boys behind you while you are trying to record your child’s performance.

Don’t get me wrong, I love it when the whole family gets into the concert. It is nice to see people tap their toes to the beat. But I don’t enjoy it when they tap their feet into the back of my seat.

It seems like our middle school has a high turnover of choir and band teachers. I love the experienced teachers because they are sure to have a medley at the end of the show where all of the grades perform together. This prevents a stampede to the exit after the concert goer’s child performs. If you are going to leave before the concert ends, at least take a few crying kids with you.

The last show that I went to, there was a man who was in such a hurry to leave after his kid performed that he tripped on an extension cord and almost fell. It was very entertaining. I almost clapped.

If only people had proper middle school concert etiquette like I do. To think, it only took me 8 years to figure it all out.

 

No fires

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I worked late Thursday night until 8 PM. If I worked late, I would be able to keep to my running schedule which hasn’t been broken since the stomach flu of May of 2016. It is more important than writing.

Friday morning I ran 12 miles. It was the best run in ages. I didn’t feel any pain or exhaustion. I felt energetic and happy. Things were going good until I realized that I was missing a key ingredient in the dip I was making for the afternoon staff party. I had to make an unexpected trip to the store on the busiest grocery shopping day of the year.

The parking lot to the store was a zoo. Traffic was backed up for a mile away. Not many parking lots spaces were to be had and there weren’t many carts either. Angel was called into work at the store on that day and I was happy to see her busy working while I was there.

We closed the office early on Friday and scheduled an office wide website training and beer sampling party upon the suggestion of our sales guy James. James said that the party was going to be the highlight of his holiday weekend. He is a divorced man and his only son was spending the weekend with his in-laws. I felt bad for him.

We learned a lot about the technical side of our website and it was determined that I was going to help start a blog.

Then Christmas Eve came before I knew it. I realized I had been so busy at work that I forgot to drink out of my special holiday mug this year. I didn’t even wrap gifts until later in the day.

Angel and I sang a duet at church that evening. We were also part of the choir. It was a strange evening. Someone smelled smoke and thought they saw smoke coming out of the church building right before the choir processed in. We discussed briefly how flammable our choir robes are.

Angel and I decided to sing our duet without the security of having the music in front of us. We were nervous as we looked out at the hundreds of people in attendance. Angel was freaking out that she would forget the words. We made a couple of errors. I had to look at all of the people looking at me while I sang. It was nerve wracking. If I had the music, I could stare at that instead of at the eyes on me.

During the service, the other soloist forgot his words. The pastor started the sermon without reading the gospel. Then he lingered for a long time in his robe over the lit candles. We remembered our discussion on how flammable the robes are. The choir was ready to jump on him to put out the flames or interrupt the service to have the pastor move only to find out later that the candles were fake.

We awoke the following morning to a white Christmas. Later in the day, it started to sleet and then rain. I was worried about my son on the road. He made it home safe.

For awhile, Paul was hurt that I didn’t get him a Christmas gift. I felt bad that he felt bad. It was a big misunderstanding. I thought that he said that we should buy ourselves our own gifts. So I bought myself a wet suit on clearance. That probably sounds bad. I bought myself something, but got him nothing. He did buy some ice fishing stuff that I have no clue about.

Arabella, Paul, and I had a relaxing Christmas day together. I stayed in my pajamas all day.

I’m sorry this post wasn’t as exciting as I intended it to be. The church didn’t end up starting on fire. Everything ended up turning out great in the end.

I want to say thanks again for your presence, if you stuck with me this far. Having this blog is a wonderful gift. I am so happy that you are following along on this journey of mine..

 

Merry Christmas!

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Merry Christmas!

I hope you are all having a wonderful day with family.

This year for Christmas, I got old. I’m not talking about the plethora of socks and hand soap I got for gifts this year either. Although, I suppose it doesn’t help.

I feel old.

I am old.

Last night the kids showed Paul and I the internet and some thing called memes. Some of them were rather clever, but most to me seemed like a waste of time. I wouldn’t know how to make one or how to get something like that on my blog. I an old fashioned. I use words.

I felt old as I watched my husband put on his reading glasses to squint at the moving objects on their phones.

Didn’t we know that people can get really rich making cat memes?

I can barely figure out how to upload my own pictures. Geez!

I look at my children and think how much like me they are, but I can’t relate. I don’t understand their world. Their generation is alien to me. I spent my childhood reading books and riding my bike. I like their world, but I don’t belong there.

Then I realized that I am the old fashioned one now. I am the one out of touch.

This morning our family read the Christmas story out of the Bible. We had an adult discussion on view points and beliefs. Then we opened our gifts like we have every year. We ate lunch together. Then my oldest two children left to be with the families of their significant others. They spent the day with people I don’t know. They weren’t at home like they were year after year watching movies and playing games.

They have grown up. It is the way that it is meant to be. I feel old and left behind.

I think I know what I want to be when I grow up. Younger!! I saw that on a meme somewhere…

Maybe I will have to ask for the fountain of youth next year for Christmas!