Life

Not always out running

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This morning Angel and I will be leaving the waterpark and heading to Milwaukee for my cousin’s wedding. Earlier this week my oldest cousin asked me to go running with him while we were both there for the wedding. 

I told him that I don’t run while I am on vacation. I don’t exercise. I don’t workout. I do nothing at all. 

He might have talked me into it if I hadn’t left home already. 

To save face, I told him that I was going to get my workout on the dance floor. 

When I am on vacation I lighten up a little. I have that extra beer. I eat the french fries. I might even dust off the wallet to buy a souvenir or two. But it don’t exercise. 

Yesterday after spending 10 hours at the waterpark, I was getting tired. We must have walked 20 miles. We climbed a skyscraper’s amount of steps while carrying heavy tubes. My 17 year old daughter questioned why I was feeling tired. Me, the great marathon runner with boundless energy. After 10 hours, why can’t I keep up with a 17 year old?

Tonight I will be tearing up the dance floor. 

But I don’t do anything at all while on vacation. I relax. I have that extra beer. I eat the fries.. 

Who am I kidding? I love leading an active life!

It’s a match!

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Taking my daughter to college orientation brought back my college days. I was on the 5 year plan. I double majored, didn’t take summer classes, and worked part-time. Half of those years, I commuted from my parents house or lived in an apartment off campus with friends. But the first year of college, I lived in an apartment on campus. 

I found it fascinating that my daughter had the opportunity to pick her own roommate. They had to create an online profile with their picture and a short description of themselves. They also had to rank themselves on several scales such as cleanliness, etc. Then when they found someone they thought would be a match, they were encouraged to talk to them more through social media which included scouring through all of their online pictures and comments. It reminds me of online dating. I mean, not that I ever used it. Being with the same person over 20 years severely limits my knowledge of online dating. Thankfully after conversations with a dozen people and a serious let down, Angel finally found the “right one”.

I really wish we had that back in the day. My first year on campus, I was thrown into an apartment with another freshman and two seniors. The two oldest roommates were absolutely psycho. I shared a bedroom with a nice Catholic girl (Krista) that never had a boyfriend. She really was into New Age music. Yeah, she was a bit strange but nothing compared to the other two.

After a couple of weeks, one of the roommates (Kate) sat us down and told us that she was HIV positive. This was back in the early 90’s, a time when everyone panicked about HIV. People thought that they could catch it from a toilet seat. What if she cut herself shaving or got a bloody nose? God forbid! My mother was ready to drag me back home. Sometimes I would come home to find Kate crying and freaking out. The other roommate (Kathy) who was her best friend would comfort her. It was always ackward. I never knew what to do so I locked myself in my room. 

It wasn’t long before the older senior girls took over the living room area. They decorated it with crazy Halloween decor and penises. The walls were plastered with that crap. One day, my mom told me that she was going to come by to visit with my Aunt Jan and her little boy. Now my Aunt Jan is very religious. I knew she would freak out if she saw the state of our apartment. I pleaded with the roommates to take down to penis pictures. Thankfully they did, although my aunt never did come to visit that day.

We also had a chore chart in the apartment. After you completed the chore, you would slide the chore down to the next person’s name. I always left for the weekends, so I would get back and all of the chores would be in my name. I ended up having to do their sink full of dirty dishes from over the weekend. I think I made a stink about it, but it was three against one. 

One day while I was doing my chore of taking out the garbage, I saw something rather interesting. I saw Kathy kissing Kate’s boyfriend. They were making out in the parking lot. After that, my roommates didn’t seem to be best friends anymore. I ran into Kathy a few months after we were no longer roommates. She told me that Kate didn’t have HIV after all. She said that Kate was just pretending so that she could be the center of attention.

Back in the day, I wish we could’ve picked our own roommates. I know my daughter will have a better experience than I did. Every weekend they have scheduled activities. I don’t remember ever having anything like that. The most fun I had was running out in a nearby field with Krista twirling around in long skirts just before a storm hit. It was my one time free spirit moment. College sounds like so much fun now that I wish I could live that part of my life all over again there. 

Even during the campus tour and auditions, it sounded like a wonderful place to be. So wonderful that I mentioned out loud to my husband that we should quit our jobs and apply. The advisor commented that they do have a few non traditional students. Last year there was an 80 year old freshman. I said, “I sure hope that he wasn’t living in the freshman dorms”. Lol.

It sure is a lot easier letting go when I know my daughter will be in a wonderful place. 

Getting my feet wet

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I survived freshman college orientation today without being too much of an embarrassment. Well, except when I straightened my daughter’s hair for her ID picture. Seriously, I was doing her a favor. Who wants an ackward picture with hair sticking out wrong for the next four years?

Being absolutely serious now, the hardest transition for me right now as a parent is viewing my daughter as an adult. For the last 18 years, I held her hand and made decisions about her life for her. Not anymore. 

It is like having a red car for a really long time, then painting it blue. It still is the same car, but different. Everytime you try to find your car in the parking lot, you look for a red car. It is an adjustment. It requires a change of thought. It is a little scary. Things aren’t the way they used to be and I can’t change it back.

Angel can’t wait for college to start. I don’t even think that she will be homesick. It will be different not having her home every night. In fact, she will be far enough away that she will only come home over college break. 

I am going to spend as much time as I can with her before she leaves home in two months. 

With that being said, we just arrived at the waterpark this evening. I think it’s time to dry my eyes and get my feet wet!

Road trip

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Angel and I decided to go on a little road trip.

Tomorrow is Angel’s freshman college orientation. Then we are heading to Wisconsin Dells for one full day at the water park. We are ending the road trip with my cousin’s wedding in Milwaukee this weekend. 

It was a long and fairly uneventful several hour drive to Angel’s new home. We saw the smallest little Bambi come out to us in the middle of the road without hitting it. We saw Amish children working in their gardens while the Amish men were working their fields with several large horses. I saw a very large man cross the road to get his mail in shorts. Little images stick in my head from the road. The men at the first stop and go light holding signs asking for change for a burger wearing better clothes than mine. The waitress at the restaurant who exchanged numbers with my daughter because they would be attending the same college together for the first time in the fall. The rest was a blur of people, places, and things but mainly fields. Field after field as we wound through small towns.

I left a list behind. A list of things that I do. Chores that need to be done on certain days. I entertain this fantasy that the others can’t live a few days without me. You would be proud of me, I let go of perfectionism when it comes to chores. I let the kids help out. I give them chore lists. I also implemented a cooking rotation. The kids get to pick out the recipe, shop for ingredients, help make the food, and clean up one day a week one kid at a time. I have given up a lot of control.

I remember a conversation with the mom of Alex’s first girlfriend. She told me that she does not allow her children to do anything because they don’t do it up to her standards. No laundry, no cleaning, and absolutely no cooking. She said that she was OCD that way. I thought about the words she said for a long time, in fact longer than the relationship lasted. I thought that I didn’t want my kids to end up marrying someone that didn’t know how to do anything. Then I pointed the finger back at myself because I really was the same way. I never wanted my kids to do anything either because it really wasn’t perfect enough. How is that going to prepare them for the future?? It doesn’t. So I decided to let go.

I give them chores and I look the other way when it is not clean enough. Sometimes I rewash the dishes. Some of my kids seem to realize that their lack of cleanliness bothers me. Sometimes they do a crappy job in hopes that they will no longer be asked. But it doesn’t work that way. 

I think that everyone will survive just fine without me for a few days. After all, they will be living a long adulthood without mommy being there to clean up their messes. 

I am planning on enjoying this road trip and spending some time with my daughter as adults all alone on an adventure…

To soon for the grammar police?

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Sometimes it’s the little things that bother me. I’m not even sure why. If someone intends to do something good, but it turns out wrong, why should that bother me?

I shared with you a couple of months back that my neighbor passed away rather unexpectedly. She was very close to my age and it took everyone by shock. 

Recently her step-daughter posted a picture of a tattoo that she received in memory of her step-mother. What a wonderful tribute for a step-mother, right? I don’t even know anyone who did that for their mother. Everyone responded with words such as beautiful, wonderful, touching, etc.  

She inked the words ‘Someday came too soon’ on her body. Except that she used the wrong homophone. She used to soon, not too soon. It bothered me that she used incorrect grammar without noticing. The tattoo artist apparently didn’t notice either. He certainly didn’t leave any extra room to squeeze in another o.

I wonder if anyone will tell her? Who am I to criticize her wonderful tribute to a loving step-mother? I am not even an English major. Maybe I should’ve been!?! 

I wish I could see the beauty in good intentions, but I am imperfect in that way. I feel like a harsh critic, the grammar police. Why can’t I just be happy that she had such a wonderful relationship with a step-parent that she wanted to permanently etch it on her body? 

Sometimes I wonder why I care so much about perfection. I just find it sad that something special could get messed up. Why should I worry about it? She had the best of intentions. 

Sail away for Father’s Day

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Yesterday we decided to sail to a new harbor for Father’s Day. We left in the morning with strong south winds. The biggest problem was that we were heading south! So we did end up motoring. It was another hot day and we spent most of the afternoon at the pool.

Then we drove into town to eat at an Indian restaurant. The food was great. Afterwards we all got back into my daughter’s small car. I squeezed myself into the back middle seat between my other two teens. I find that if I wedge myself in the middle, there is less fighting. Who wants fighting for Father’s Day?? But the problem was that I was carrying things on my lap and there wasn’t any floor room either.  So I shoved the leftover styrofoam boxes behind me by the back window. When my daughter hit the brakes for a red light, my leftover curry popped open and went down the back of my white shirt. Life always seems to be an adventure whether on land or sea!

After we got back to the boat, I decided to call my dad to wish him a happy Father’s Day. Paul and I were sitting alone on the boat at this time. It always feels a little ackward calling my dad when my husband doesn’t have a dad to call. It can be hard for me because my dad sounds so much like my grandma and her brother, the way he talks and mannerisms. I really miss them and sometimes he reminds me that they are gone. I saw a lot of pictures of women my age on Facebook with their dads, but I wasn’t one of them. I wish sometimes that my dad and I were closer.

So I spent the day with the best father that I know, my husband. I am very proud of him for being a wonderful dad despite never having a father himself. Sometimes I wish that things were different. Relationships can be messy and complicated. Right now I just feel thankful for what I have, a husband that makes a wonderful father. 

Not only was the car packed full of people yesterday, but the sailboat is rather small to fit all five of us overnight as well. The oldest two drove home for the night while Paul and I stayed overnight with Arabella. It was a windy night which kept away the bugs. It did cool off and we were expecting storms so we had to shut up everything tight for the night. It was sweltering hot in the middle of the night making it difficult to sleep. We opened everything up until the storms came through. The winds whistled through day and night. Over the weekend, we noticed that there was a problem with the mast. 

There is a wind advisory for today. With the weather and the condition of our boat, we are going to have to stay most of the day to wait things out. Another day by the pool with boat drinks doesn’t sounds that bad…

 

Will you still love me…

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This time I am struggling to find the right words to say. I really don’t know how I feel. Some days I just want it to be over. I want to be done with this job. I don’t want to worry anymore. Maybe if I don’t see it I can pretend that it is not there.

It is getting harder now. Harder than I ever thought it would be when, for a short time, I held your tiny hand in mine. Sometimes I long for the easier days when I felt like I had some small iota of control. Back when you were dependent on me for everything, when I meant the world to you.

We told you that you could come to us if you were in trouble but I still wasn’t ready to hear, “Mom, I screwed up”. Those words hit me like a punch in the gut. I felt worried sick. I wanted to scream, cry, and yell. But I knew my response was going to dictate whether or not you would trust me again. I had to remain calm.

I tried to find the answers to my questions on google, but it made me more fearful. I paced the floor. I wanted to run. You asked me if you would be in trouble. How can I be upset with you for being honest? If you didn’t tell me, I probably would’ve never known.

Lately you have been asking me if I would still love you if you decided to make a total mess of your life. I am happy that you feel like you can talk to me openly and honestly about your struggles.

I just never knew it would be so hard.

 

Our house (a.k.a. Grand Central Station)

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This past weekend we noticed it for the first time. My son is now taller than my husband. When did this happen? Has Alex been hiding out in his room for so long that we just didn’t notice? He does come out every couple of hours to eat. Oh, the eating habits of a teenage boy! It reminds me of an old Looney Tunes cartoon with all of the food sitting out at a picnic when the ants come shave through it all. A big juicy watermelon with nothing left but a rind. All the food in the cupboards, gone before anyone else gets a chance to eat it unless it is very healthy.

Alex will be turning 16 this week. I already have an appointment set up for his driving test and we have been practicing. Honestly, I can’t wait until he has his license. I told you last week that he had a birthday party to go to the evening before I had to wake up very early for my 10k. It sure would’ve been nice if he could drive then.

I left this story off with being upset that Alex’s friend PJ’s mom cancelled out of picking up the boys from the party last minute. Well, it turns out that PJ never asked his mom until a couple of hours before they needed a ride. This time it was PJ’s fault. PJ has been hanging out at our house a lot over the past week because he doesn’t have internet at his house. At first, I thought that this was pathetic but now I’m wondering if this is a genius move on the parents part. First of all, their teens never want to be home so they have the house to themselves. Second, none of their kids friends want to spend the night because there is absolutely nothing to do. So they don’t end up having almost a dozen teens at their house like I practically did all weekend. Pure genius! 

Sometimes I fantasize about a quiet and clean house. I am not going to complain though. It seems like Alex is finally hanging around some better kids. Although two of his best friends are moving to different states this next week. 

After the birthday party, Alex tried to convince me that I wanted to have his 3 friends overnight in a tent before my race the next day. Absolutely not! Plus we ended up getting pretty severe storms Friday night. My daughter Angel decided that she wanted to go up north with her friend for the first time alone. I decided to let her since she is old enough to get credit card applications in the mail Geez! 

The girls ended up getting caught in the storm. They were swimming when the sky turned dark as night. They went to a bar and grill to eat and take shelter from the storm. When they got there, the power went out. The waitress lit candles, the chefs couldn’t cook. They told customers to go to another restaurant nearby that still had power. When Angel and her friend got there, it was so packed that there was nowhere to even sit. They ended up following the storm home in a horror movie setting with lightening, bloody orange skies, and branches that grabbed at the car like claws. The storm awoke the animals from their slumber. Angel almost hit a deer and a bear lingered in the middle of the road. 

Sometimes I wonder what the neighbor’s think! Being the parents of 3 teenagers sometimes we have 10 cars in our driveway but no one is home. It is ALWAYS Grand Central Station. The lights are on 24 hours a day. I am the one that goes to bed the earliest and I don’t even consider myself a morning person. My son is turning off the lights to go to bed as my husband is waking up.

Paul has been waking up at 5 almost every morning to work on his lines. He has 450 lines to memorize for the summer play. In less than a month, he almost has all of his lines down. He wakes up before the crack of dawn and sits out on the deck and repeats his lines out loud over and over. Yesterday, he woke up at 4:30. He was out on the deck talking to himself when the neighbor, who gets up early for work, let his dog out. The neighbor glanced down in embarrassment when he noticed my husband mumbling to himself on the deck. Hilarious! People think we are crazy!! With good reason, I guess!

Tonight Alex’s new girlfriend came over for supper. I was finally able to meet her. A mother is almost required not to like any girlfriend that her only son brings home, right?? She seems very quiet and nice. 

Hot cross runs

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This weekend marks the second anniversary of my first race, a 1ok. I started running races 0ne month before I turned 40. Since then I have run two 5k’s, three 10k’s, one half, and two fulls. I remember that first race very well. I was terrified, not just by all of the people in the race, but by all of the spectators as well. My knees felt wobbly. I was running on rubber chicken legs which wasn’t exactly the kind of rubber I wanted to burn! I felt like running away from the race course, but there were too many people to make my escape. So I concentrated on running as fast as I could and finished in a little over 50 minutes.

The following year, I tried to beat my time from the first 10k. I missed that goal by 45 seconds. My acid reflux was acting up last year to the point where I was quite uncomfortable. I thought that maybe this will be the year for a PR. Tomorrow when I run my 10k, we are expecting temps in the 80’s with high humidity and full sun. This will be the hottest running conditions that I have had to race in. But I am still going to try my hardest even though I think I am being a bit foolish to do so. I foresee this being a big PRoblem with a capital PR.

When I ran the marathon in May, it was the hottest day of the year so far. I don’t do very well under those conditions. We have had only one hot day since the marathon, otherwise it has been cool. Tomorrow it is supposed to be in the 90’s. We typically only reach that temperature a couple of times in the summer. No one will be ready for that kind of heat. I received an email yesterday warning of the heat urging people along the race route to put out sprinklers and to be on the look out for collapsing runners. Plus they are going to set up extra water stations and provide ice.

I will not be running this race alone. Lisa, Paul, and Angel’s boyfriend will be running it too. Lisa got a highly coveted position in corral 1. She finished her first 10k in under 50 minutes. She also completed her first marathon last year in a little over 4 hours which may have been a reason why my expectations were so high. We used to be running partners. She was always better though. Then she moved to Florida. She started working full-time, didn’t run as much, and spent the weekends at the beach. She gained 15 lbs and hasn’t been able to run over 2 miles without stopping. She doesn’t have the confidence that she can be where she once was.

Then there is my husband Paul. He has been running before I even started but never went beyond a 10k. He runs for fun not competitively like Lisa and I. Don’t get me wrong though, he is very tough. He created quite a stir in the neighborhood because for the first couple of years he was a barefoot runner. Yes, it’s true, he ran on the country roads with rocks and glass without anything on his feet at all. Crazy!

He would come home from a run with feet that looked like ground hamburger. He developed rough callouses that scratched holes into the sheets at night. After every run, he had to bandage his bloody feet. Then something happened, the bottom of his feet became tough as leather. I could never do that. I can’t stand being barefoot.

Everywhere we went, people would come up and ask him why he ran barefoot. Some even offered to buy him shoes. Eventually, he ended up buying a pair of minimalist shoes. He has had them for years and they never seem to wear out. It became harder to recondition his feet after every winter.

Angel’s boyfriend signed up for the run last night minutes before the race registration closed. Someone told him that they didn’t think he would be able to do it. So he signed up. He hasn’t trained at all but spends many hours in the gym working out. One time he ran over 30 miles in a day for fun without spending tons of money and getting a “free” banana. Over the summer he is a 2nd shift worker, so I told him he could come after work and sleep on the couch since he lives a lot further away from the race than the rest of us. (I was also worried that he might oversleep the carpool.)

Then this afternoon my son called me to tell me that there was a slight problem with his plans tonight. We had this whole carpooling thing worked out with a group of moms. Alex and some of his buddies got a ride to stay over at a friends house to do some gaming. Then another friend’s mom was going to hand the baton over to me. I was going to take the boys and drop them off at a birthday party tonight at 8. Then another mom was going to pick them up at 11:30 PM to have them home by midnight. Guess what? The last mom in the relay backed out last minute. Thanks a lot! The responsible parents always get stuck with all of the work!!

My son wanted me to pick the boys up at 11:30 and have all 3 of his friends spend the night. That would add the grand total of teenagers in my house to 7 spending the night tonight. Fat chance!

I told him that I would pick him up no later than 10:30 to be home by 11 PM and only one friend could stay overnight as earlier agreed upon. So I guess I won’t be getting my 8 hours of beauty sleep tonight. I will somehow have to manage to wake up at 5:30 AM after having 5 teens in the house. I am really feeling angry at the mom for backing out last minute!

Who has a party for their 15 year old until 11:30 PM anyway?? Crazy!!

We’ll see what tomorrow brings for us. Against my better judgment, I am going to try for a PR. I will not beat myself up if I don’t get it. It will be really hot out, I won’t get any sleep, and all this stress is giving me a stomach ache. Thankfully, it is only a 10k.

 

Lilacs, mushrooms, roadkill, and dandelion wine 

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Every year when the lilacs bloom, I think of Darryl.

Darryl is my husband’s step-dad. He is a rugged outdoors man of the wild north woods. He doesn’t even have (gasp) internet. Except for being a non smoker, he is reminiscent of the Marlboro man of old. He is tall, lean, and ruggedly handsome for a man in his early 60’s. He has a head full of thick wavy hair. He works full-time as a forklift driver. He is a hard worker and has many other side jobs such as janitor, chimney sweep, and lumberjack. In the winter, he hooks up a plow to his pick up truck to earn some extra money. In the summer, he works in his massive garden.

Darryl lives off the land. In the fall, he is a deer hunter. He even goes black powder hunting. He processes his own venison. He takes the hides from the deer and sews his own clothing. In the winter, he goes ice fishing. In summer, he fishes from his boat. Life for Darryl is simple yet satisfying.

Darryl also picks up roadkill. One time he picked up a dead raccoon off the side of the road. He threw it into a crock pot and served it to my kids telling them it was chicken. They loved it.

I have learned over the years not to eat any of Darryl’s food. He has been known to leave brats in the fridge for months then serve them. Sometimes his food has a funny taste to it. He seems to have a strong constitution though.

Darryl also makes his own wine. He never follows a recipe when he makes his wine out of unusual ingredients such as potatoes or dandelions. It doesn’t always taste the greatest and sometimes has a high alcohol content. People have been known to spend the evening sick after a few glasses. In fact, a couple of weeks ago Paul and Darryl shared a bottle of wine while out fishing. Darryl lost his balance and fell out of the boat. Then he fell several more times on his walk back home. If Darryl offers me his wine, I tell him that I am strictly a beer drinker which isn’t entirely true.

Darryl says that every year when the lilacs bloom, the morel mushrooms are ready. Morel mushrooms are a very expensive delicacy in these parts. One year, he asked us if we wanted to go mushroom hunting with him. It sounded like an adventure, so we went. We combed the woods and found a few. On the car ride home, my skin was crawling with ticks. Darryl and Paul decided to fry up their mushrooms for supper that night. I don’t like mushrooms and was a tad bit worried when they wanted to eat their find since there is a false morel mushroom which is similar but poisonous. Darryl was fixated on mushrooms for awhile and even started carving a large intricate mushroom out of wood.

By far the most interesting story I heard about Darryl happened the time that he cut his leg open with a chain saw. Now Darryl is the cheapest guy that I know. He has been known to dumpster dive or collect items that others don’t want. In fact, he is a bit of a hoarder. His house is decorated in vintage 1970’s mismatched furniture. He has two refrigerators in his kitchen, one works and the other he uses for storage. After he cut his leg with a chain saw, he was too cheap to go to the doctor to get his leg stitched up. So he did it himself. He took a needle and some fish line and sewed it right up. He could win a survival competition hands down (or even tied behind his back)!

Darryl sure is an eccentric fellow.