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Shopaholics amnotathis

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I have a confession to make…I hate shopping!

I can almost hear your collective gasp…

I don’t own a million pairs of shoes.

Maybe it’s the bright lights. I feel blinded when I walk into the store. Then the changing rooms! There is nothing like trying on clothing while in a bright spotlight that highlights your every blemish and flaw. Seriously, maybe stores would sell more clothes if the rooms were dimly lit. But that makes me think of a swanky run down lingerie store with one buzzing flickering light bulb. You just can’t seem to win that one!

Then there is always the mother with tons of crying kids…Do you need to get out that bad?..the elderly health nuts that use the mall as a track for fast walking…Can you not afford a gym membership??…The teens that are trying to look cool…Do I have time to do a survey??…Would I like a “free” sample??…Messy changing rooms…Long check out lines…Aarg..

Plus shopping is sooo boring. Rack after rack and row after row of boring drab garb that lacks inspiration.

Oh, and my ex-boyfriend Brad owns a sword kiosk at the mall. There’s that! I have seen him there before and quickly walked by looking in the other direction. Sometimes I imagine Paul and Brad swirling around the mall in a sword fight. Now that would be exciting.. I probably would need something new to wear for that.. Hmmm.. Yeah, no..

Maybe I don’t like shopping because my mom would take me clothes shopping for 12 hours straight when I was a kid. She always made me try on ugly clothes that she thought were sooo cute. Then if they fit, she would buy half of them. I would end up carrying heavy bags of clothes I didn’t even like around the mall for hours. I would go home sore and miserably exhausted.

I always felt guilty when my mom would buy things for me. I still feel guilty about buying things today regardless of whether I can afford it or not. Do I really need this?? I know the one I have is falling apart, but there is duct tape. Okay, maybe I am not that extreme..

Do I $80 like how this dress looks on me? Probably not.

I don’t like grocery shopping either…

Online shopping, barely tolerable.. I could sit and think about what color to choose for hours and by the time I decide, the item is gone..

But I had to break down this week and go shopping at the mall with Paul for dress clothes. He apparently does not know how to match clothing. Also, I’ve heard that athletic shorts and old race shirts don’t exactly make for proper business attire. Our sales guy said that he was sick of seeing Paul in the same old dress clothes that he has been wearing for years…

Paul will be traveling a lot this next month. It all starts this weekend with a conference on the west coast, then a few weeks after that he will be flying out for a meeting on the east coast. In between all of this there are trade show booths and public speaking.

I had to take one for the team. But I had a little help. I violated my general principle of no drinking during the week and went on a beer flight. Cindy said that having a few cocktails always helps her tolerate Christmas shopping. Not bad advice since I find shopping to be a mild form of torture.

I am happy to say that I made it through shopping with my husband (who hates shopping too)!

Then, after I got home, my son came up to me and said that we needed to go shopping for dress clothes for homecoming. Twice in one week!!

I hope I survive!

And so it begins…

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It happened this past weekend. I was hoping with my last child I would have just a little more time..

Angel has been dating her boyfriend for almost 3 years.. Alex has had a girlfriend for the last 4 months…Thankfully, I approve of their choices!

I imagined Arabella staying single and living at home forever….hmmm… Maybe this type of thinking is an irrational coping mechanism?? Why can’t time just stop for a little while??

My friend Cindy was over this past weekend. One of her son’s is two days younger than Arabella. A group of neighborhood kids decided to go for a bike ride. One of the boys admitted to Cindy’s son that he has a crush on Arabella. Or maybe it was more of a ‘stay away I like her’ kind of thing.

Cindy’s son told Arabella that this boy has a crush on her. Arabella confronted this boy about his feelings towards her. The poor guy got so flustered that he steered his bike right into the ditch. He was crashed, crushed, hurt, and full of dirt calling out for his mother.

Arabella only likes him as a friend.

And so it begins…

Carefree moments..

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Don’t I look like the cat that ate the canary??

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This past weekend we sailed somewhere new for our friend Ted’s birthday.

It was a warm and windy day. This time the winds were in our favor to get to the park and back quickly. The minute Ted, Cindy, and I stepped on the boat we all curled up and fell asleep. That just shows how much we trusted Paul to get us through the wind and waves.

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Sometimes I take for granted the beauty of my home state. I could’ve stayed in one spot and took pictures for hours.

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But my friends would’ve left without me!

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Paul keeps an eye on his sailboat from the scenic overlook above.

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Then I had a carefree moment on the ledge disregarding the large drop off behind me.

Reel to real

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I awoke Saturday morning to the steady beat of pounding rain. I wanted to go back to sleep but signed up to do a 20 mile bike ride as part of a fundraiser for our church. For a brief moment, I had an internal struggle while watching the rain fall from my window. There was a brisk north wind and the temperature plummeted overnight.

Then I thought of my friends that were doing the Iron Man this weekend and my cousin that was running a 100k overnight while I spent the night sleeping. Reluctantly, I rubbed my bleary eyes and got up.

It was the least I could do for my church, right??

Once I got to the church, I paired up with another parishioner who decided to bike 20 miles. I eyed her skeptically to see if she would keep up with me since she was over ten years older than me. The funny thing is that she taught me a thing or two how to be a better bike rider while I struggled to keep up with her.

One big mistake that I made was deciding to wear a cheap plastic rain poncho to keep dry. The poncho flapped in the wind like a loose sail. It made a lot of noise and slowed me down. I ended up borrowing the other woman’s jacket at her insistence which I was rather embarrassed about. The ride went well despite the off and on rain. I checked 20 miles off my bucket list.

After the morning festivities, Paul and I spontaneously invited Ted and Cindy over for the rest of the day. It was Ted’s birthday, we had them over to grill out and have a fire even though we had plans to sail with them the following day.

Now, about the fire… A few weeks ago my mom gave me a box filled with my birth announcement, letters, birthday cards from the first two years of life, pictures, and a reel to reel of my first birthday that I need to check out. She gave this box to me right before my daughter left home. It seemed like a very hard time to go through this box.

After Angel left I did open the box. It was filled with cards from people that were long deceased, divorced, or people that I didn’t even know. I read a few letters, some mentioned the struggle between going back to work and staying home. Others talked of new recipes.

Letters seem so strange to me now. They seem so simple with talk of everyday life…baptisms…a new pair of shoes…food.. Maybe it is really not all that different if I printed off old emails or looked at everyone’s posts for the month on Facebook.

We are flooded with so much information day to day in our modern world, that maybe I just tune out things I deem as unimportant without realizing it.

A few things struck me from this box. One letter to my mother said that her life would never be the same again. That much was true, very true.

I also found some pictures of my mom right before she delivered me. My mother being as modest as she is was completely mortified. I called her and asked her if she actually looked through everything in the box before she gave it to me. She asked me to burn the pictures. There is a part of me that wishes that I never said anything because she was so young, beautiful, and full of life… Really it was nothing inappropriate or to be ashamed of…but to her it was an embarrassing reminder of younger days..

Saturday night I had a fire at my house. I burned away every trace of my mother’s life right before it changed forever..

Enjoying the present

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I decided to not audition for the next community theater musical. 

Oh, I am not afraid of being on stage. I have many fears, but that is not one of them. I find public speaking and performing fascinating. 

I decided to give it up to watch Angel perform in her first college concert. She told me that she was going to be given solos that are only typically given to seniors. Watching your child perform is as exciting as performing yourself with a lot less work. 

I wish my grandma was alive to see her perform. Angel and I got my grandma’s voice. I feel very sad that I don’t have a recording of my grandma singing. With an 8th grade education, my grandma never had the opportunity to use her gift. She never sang in a choir or sang a solo in public, but she could’ve been an opera singer. She just sang to soothe her tired or crying grandchildren or in church with everyone else. The only thing she was able to do was to pass it on to future generations.

This past weekend, I was looking through old pictures with Arabella. She wanted to know who was holding her in a photo. She didn’t recognize my grandma. My children don’t know much about some of the most influential people in my life. My grandparents, Uncle Harold, and Aunt Grace shaped me into the person that I am today. 

This weekend we took the dock out of water up north. It is sad to say good-bye to the cabin until next May. My great-grandparents built the cabin in the 1950’s. What a gift! But after reflection I found that I didn’t know a lot about the giver.

I know small tidbits about my great-grandparents. Little facts, but nothing about who they really were. I know for a fact that I couldn’t pick out the pictures of all of my greats if they were in a lineup with other photos. I might have their nose, but not know them..

How soon we are forgotten. Time moves so fast. When I was a child, a day seemed long. Now a day is nothing. 

These have been my thoughts lately. 

I am so thankful for the gifts passed on to me, but so sad that I know nothing of the gift giver. It is a strange type of nostalgia. I don’t want their memory to fade like an old picture in an album. But I can’t seem to grasp onto them anymore.

Instead, I will enjoy the present…the gifts we have been given. 

There will always be another play. 

Summer, don’t leave me too!

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The Canadian geese are flying south. Just like that a light switch was turned off. Summer is ending.

I always have a hard time this time of year. It’s not that I don’t like the changing of the seasons. It’s just that I live for summer. I love the warm weather and sunshine.

Now all of my kids are back in school. I had to say good-bye to my oldest child for the first time when I sent her off to college. It wasn’t just like saying good-bye to a child, it was saying good-bye to a friend. Over the past few years, the active parenting ended and a friendship began. I hope it will be like that with all of my children.

Out of all of the people living on this Earth, my daughter Angel is the most like me. She looks just like me. She has my mannerisms. We have very similar personalities, viewpoints, morals, and taste. We are both firstborns. We relate on all levels. Sometimes I think that she is an unjaded version of me. She is what I could’ve been. People have asked before if she is my clone. It was hard to let go.

My son Alex takes after my side of the family in everything but looks. Because of this, I understand him. Arabella is completely alien to me. We have nothing in common. To be totally honest, this has been a struggle for me. Sometimes we clash instead of click. It just doesn’t seem fair!

The morning after dropping off Angel at college, my husband went away on a week long sailing trip with friends. He will be back home tonight. This has made things more stressful for me at home and at work.

At first, I was fine. It seems like it takes me a few days to process my emotions.

Monday the anxiety and worry hit me hard. It probably didn’t help that I checked my phone before going to bed and noticed that Alex was not at his friend’s house that he was staying overnight at. Apparently they got bored and decided to aimlessly drive around much to my disappointment since I was the one filling up the tank with gas.

I couldn’t sleep at all that night. I waited until Alex got back to his friend’s house on my phone. Then I still couldn’t sleep because I stirred up the demon of my relationship with my dad. I didn’t realize that it upset me as much as it did. Of course, it is probably not wise to stir up painful moments in my life when I am feeling so emotional about my daughter leaving. My anxiety was through the roof and it kept me from sleeping most of the night.

The next morning I felt exhausted and depressed. I had to man the office by myself all day. Work was very busy and I didn’t feel like doing it. When I feel that way, I want to give up everything. I want to quit running. I want to stop blogging. I want to curl up in a ball and totally shut down. I will never do that though, somehow my mind beats out my heart every time. I don’t let myself shut down or even relax.

I will never give up this blog without telling people I am leaving. I am one of the least impulsive people I know. I am cold and calculating. I am schedule and routine. I am all or nothing. I overthink and underfeel. Like it or not, that is how I am. Yet somehow I can still manage to be fun.

Change has always been difficult for me, even if it is for the better. I have accepted that my daughter left home. It has to be a good thing for me because it is good for her.

Now I just have to accept that summer is over. This weekend we are shutting down the cabin for the season. The water will soon be too cold to swim in. By next month, we will be taking the sailboat out of water. The first few flurries will start to fall. My long outdoor runs will have to take place indoors on a treadmill.

Summer, please don’t leave me too!!

But I can’t look at it that way!

I have to be happy that my daughter is starting the future of her dreams. I still have other kids at home to bond with. I am married to a wonderful, adventurous man.

I have to look forward to crisp autumn days. Cool evenings spent in my hot tub gazing at the stars. Bonfires with friends. Photographing the beauty of the trees changing color. Reading cold psychological thrillers wrapped in a warm blanket. And having plenty of time to write…

No escape?

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On Labor Day, we are having our summer staff party. Seems fitting, right??

We are planning on taking our employees for a sail. The last couple of summers, sailing has been the staff request.

Winter staff parties are a little more tricky. I always try planning off the wall kind of parties. One year we saw a laser light show at a planetarium after eating fondue. Another year we went to an Irish restaurant followed by a comedian. Last year we went to the Japanese steak house after taking a painting class. Year after year, it is getting harder to top.

Then I heard of the escape room. It is all the rage. You are given clues and one hour to escape from a locked room. The only question I have is….is there a bathroom?? Yikes! What a great staff party team building event. Except no one wanted to try it.

Really, what is wrong with being locked in a room??

Then I remembered, I am terrified of being trapped.

I don’t like feeling like there isn’t a way out.

I can’t stand feeling trapped on airplanes. Every bit of turbulence makes me feel like we are crashing. I have heard that turbulence is not risky, but take offs and landings are. Great, now I am afraid the whole flight. I’m trapped on a plane. I can’t leave when I want to. The cold fear lasts for hours. I break out in a cold sweat. I grip the arm rest or person next to me. My hands shake. My heart races. I hold my breath or breathe fast. I gasp. Some of my best flights involved being medicated.

I can’t stand feeling trapped in cars either. I am prone to panic when I have to cross long bridges or drive through construction. The concrete barriers trap me. I have no option to pull over or escape. My heart races, my breathing is fast, the sweat pours, I open all the windows, and at times I get tunnel vision. I have to pull over at the next exit sometimes. It is suffocating.

Year round I drive with my windows open a crack so I don’t feel trapped inside my car.

Sometimes I feel trapped by my circumstances. I can’t stand that either.

It is beyond me why I would WANT to go in an escape room. I think it has to do with the challenge of facing fears and figuring a way to get out.

I haven’t figured out the winter party yet, but until then I am going to enjoy sailing with our employees on Labor Day.

At least I am not afraid of water!

Maybe I will find another group of crazy folks to get locked up with in an escape room.

The big skinny on weight loss

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My 13 year old daughter is on a diet.

I never thought that I would be buying weight loss products. What a racket!!

Now before I get a lot of nasty comments, let me explain. I am not the stereotypical mom depicted on TV. Although I am lean and athletic, I don’t harp on a middle school daughter that has a barely bulge. I don’t replace her chocolates with laxatives. I don’t tell her that she won’t be loved unless she is thin like me.

If I am guilty of anything, it is ignoring that there is a problem. I honestly don’t know what to do. Would you? I have never had issues with my weight before. Sure, there are times that I feel fat. What women doesn’t?

The only time that I struggled with my weight was during pregnancy and right after. Most women do, except for an enviable few. I distinctly remember looking in the mirror after my first baby was born. I felt like I got hit by a truck. I probably looked like it too. But I took a strange pride in my body that was able to produce life. I felt a  connection to my ancestral bearers of life before me.

The most I ever weighed was 186 lbs. That was right before giving birth to my almost 9 lb baby. This is how much my 13 year old daughter weighs right now. She is a few inches shorter than me. Her BMI is borderline obese. Arabella gained 20 lbs since her last physical.

Kids pick on her and call her names like Arafatta and Fattie. It never seemed to bother her before. She even nicknamed her stomach Jab. She was always hungry. She made comments about having to feed Jab. She would eat seconds, snack, and stockpile candy. For her birthday, all of her friends bought her candy. A lot of her weight gain was behavioral and some of it was genetic.

After the kids had their physicals last week, Angel talked Arabella and I into getting measured for body fat, muscle, and metabolic age. I won’t bore you with the details. At 42, I got the body age of 28. At 13, Arabella got the body age of 47 (her dad’s age). She has 10 more inches around her waist then I do. She is over 50 lbs heavier than me.

Arabella wanted to try their weight loss products. Over the weekend, she spent a lot of time exercising and eating healthy. She lost a total of 4 lbs. She said that she feels healthier eating healthy foods.

So here I am supporting my middle school daughter’s weight loss. I don’t want her to have a complex. I don’t want her to tip the scale in the other direction. But I don’t want her to be obese, have health problems, or be ridiculed. The body image of a teenage girl is delicate enough as it is.

I have found with children that I can try to force them to change, but until they really want to change there is not much I can do.

I am happy that Arabella is starting to break bad habits and has decided to make healthier eating choices. The best thing I can do is support healthy decision making. Hopefully, this has more to do with starting healthier habits versus trying to be skinny.

Pushing buttons

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I have been here over a year and never deleted a post before.

Yesterday was the first time.

I wanted to delete my blog, delete my existence in this sphere with a touch of a button.

How easy would that be?

Sometimes the truth sets you free.

And sometimes it keeps you up at night, gnawing at your insides and eating away at your soul.

Again, I feel trapped. I long to go away and never come back. Leave the stress behind. Start a new chapter in the last half of my book.

Maybe it is starting to finally sink in that my daughter left home.

I just can’t help feeling terribly alone.

Maybe I need a vacation??

 

Saying goodbye to Angelique Hope

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It is finished.

I survived!

It wasn’t as bad as I imagined it would be. 

The hardest part of dropping off my newly turned adult daughter at college was watching her say goodbye to her younger sister. They hugged. Angel told Arabella to call her if she needs any advice. She told her to enjoy having her own room. A few tears threatened to escape when they told each other how much they will miss each other. 

Now why couldn’t they get along that well before??

For the first time in over a decade, I will be actively parenting only 2 children!

We woke up before dawn to pack all of Angel’s belongings, including her beta fish, into our truck. It was an 8 hour round trip for Paul and I. I am totally exhausted tonight, so this will have to be quick.

It was an emotional day. 

Bittersweet. 

It was hard to say goodbye. Hard to keep things together. 

I wanted to keep her forever. Instead, I let go of her hand today. 

It was okay. I know she is where she was meant to be doing what she is supposed to do. She is happy, healthy, smart, full of faith, and makes good decisions. What more could I want?

It is going to take some time before I don’t expect a response when I call out her name. 

She is not here anymore.

But my house is not empty.

I still have other children to raise..

I know she will be okay.

I will be okay too.