saturday morning blues

Yesterday morning, I didn't sleep in.

Big deal, you say.

Well, let me explain. No - to quote one of my favorite movies - there is too much. Let me sum up.

Those of you who know me know my husband is a cyclist and burgeoning triathlete. He has several 100-mile bike races and 2 half-Ironmans (Ironmen?) under his belt. What this means is that he goes on early morning bike rides on Saturday, his only free day (Sunday is the Lord's day, not the cyclist's, in our family), and Mom stays home and faces the Saturday morning chore arguments solo. So no sleeping in.

The significance of the no-sleep-in yesterday? I'm getting to it.

Here's how our family spent this past summer: in and out of the hospital. DH herniated a disc in June, had minimally invasive surgery for it in July, got a spinal fluid leak 2 weeks later as a complication from that surgery, had a procedure done to try and fix it in August which didn't work, had a second surgery to stitch up the leak which did fix it but was NOT minimally invasive, and has been recovering ever since. That is a big, long sentence which tells you what our summer was like while leaving out a lot of the pain, emotional/physical suffering, hardship, service from friends/family, prayers, and little blessings in between. Needless to say, there was no bike riding (or much walking, for that matter) for dh during any of it. But I got to sleep in on a few choice Saturdays. This really isn't about me, though.

A few weeks ago, dh went to his follow-up visit with the back surgeon. He gave him the okay to resume normal activities, which he has begun to ease into. Yesterday marked the first bike ride with his buddies he has been able to do for over 4 months. He may not have kept up with the guys the whole time, but he returned home sweaty and smiling in his Arizona State University bike jersey, and you could tell his heart was full. So this time, I didn't mind getting up a little earlier to get started on my day. There will be plenty more Saturdays to come when I have to get up before I want to, and I will probably not have this good of an attitude about all of them, but this time, I am counting my blessings.

there's always more flab

I was running with my friends the other morning and we were all talking about weight we'd like to lose (cliche, no?) when I mentioned I thought my legs were the biggest part of me. (They are an inheritance from my mom's side of the family.) My companion said, "So? Mine are bigger. And someone else's are bigger than mine, and someone else's are bigger than hers, and so on and so on....There will always be worse." I think her point was that no matter how bad you think you have it, someone somewhere is in a worse spot than you are.

I think I'm going to try to remember this whenever I feel like complaining. Maybe take a second look at what I'm about to gripe about, and decide if it's really worth the gripe. DH and I discussed that this afternoon, and he mentioned a PBS show he watched last night that gave him food for thought. See, DH's company has been in some financial troubles over the past few months (it's a small company) and its very existence is currently in jeopardy, so it's looking like he will have to find another job in a field where lots of other people are in the same spot - out of work, I mean. He is understandably worked up over this, which is why he was watching PBS in the middle of the night.

Anyway, he was all full of butterflies over his employment situation and turned on this show about 2 women, roommates, who are middle-aged and both living with disabilities. One has MS, and the other, who must act as caregiver, has Down's Syndrome. (Wow, right?) Anyway, they both are on Medicaid or Medicare (DH couldn't remember which) and some sort of their disability coverage was threatening to be discontinued. Apparently they were claiming that they were homebound (probably true, for the most part), but under some law, "homebound" means that you really can't ever leave your home if you want to be considered as such. These women heard about some group that was lobbying for this law to be changed, and decided to go to Washington to join in the lobby. Medicaid (or Medicare or whoever) somehow found out that they left their home, and promptly began an investigation into whether they really needed that coverage. (Wow again.) So then all this then made DH rethink his situation and realize that okay, he has a few contacts with acquaintances in his field who have gotten him interviews and names of recruiters, his boss and coworkers all have good things to say about him, and maybe we could be grateful for what we have and not pull out our hair just yet.

The whole job question and the accompanying what-ifs (what if we have to move? what if there's nothing out there? what if we do get an offer but it's really low and it's the only one?) aren't resolved yet, so I don't know if a moral is a little premature, but here it is: there's always someone with fatter legs.

thank-you notes

(I got this idea from the first - and probably the last - "Late Show With Jimmy Fallon" I watched. Jimmy was a little wooden, but this idea was pretty good.)

Dear Sink of Dirty Dishes,

Thank you for waiting for me. You always do. No matter how much I try to ignore you. Would that other things in my life waited so patiently.

Yours,
J.

Dear Flip,

Thank you for practicing the piano when I asked. And thank you for getting through the whole practice session without a single rendition of Star Wars.

Love,
Mom

Dear 2nd Hunger Games Book,

Thank you for keeping me in suspense. And thank you for being a great escape from stress last week. And while I do appreciate a good cliffhanger, I don't appreciate having to wait a year to find out what happens next or who falls off that cliff. But you were still a good read. Really.

Sincerely,
J.

Dear DH,

Thank you for remembering to write cereal on the shopping list when you replaced the empty box from the pantry. Just for that, I might buy Peanut Butter Cap'n Crunch next time.

Love,
J.

Dear Stuntman,

Thanks for getting up and doing your chores when your alarm goes off pretty much every school morning. And thanks for being a good example for the other 2 kids, even though they're never awake to see you setting it. You are a great kid!

Love,
Mom

Dear Miss Bee,

Thank you for letting me do your hair. I have been waiting 2 boys' worth of bowl haircuts/clipper jobs to play with some curly, girly hair. I know you hate the tangles and the pulling, but it's so much fun. Thank you for cooperating with the scrunchies, ribbons, bobby pins and barrettes. And I promise - ponytails only once a week.

Love love love,
Mommy

P.S. Thank you too for the new record - you've made it 1 1/2 years without giving yourself a haircut! I'm so proud of you!

lemonade stand

Here's a summer memory I just had to record somewhere...
The neighborhood kids came by our house this afternoon asking if our kids could help them with a lemonade stand. They borrowed a folding table and set up down the street. I sat outside with a magazine just to keep an ear out (and because I was curious if anyone would stop). Surprised that several cars pulled over, I decided to dig through the change jar and get some myself. Approaching the table, I was informed that lemonade was a dollar (but they gave me a 50-cent discount), and when I got there, all the cups I saw were plastic/glass ones harvested from the neighbors' kitchen cupboards. I asked if they had any paper ones - "no, but we'll wash them out." With soap? "No, just water. But lots of water!" Did people like their lemonade? "Mostly they're just giving us the money."

For a germ-free lemonade stand experience, here's a link to that old lemonade stand computer game that we all remember from the 80's: http://www.lemonadestand.com/

summer love/hate

What I like about summer:

• swim team practices (and the moms who share in carpooling the boys back/forth)
• fruit in season and the sales upon it - nectarines, peaches, plums, raspberries, strawberries
• 4th of July
• the smell of water from the hose when it hits the pavement (always makes me think of my childhood)
• easy schedules
• summer rainstorms
• popsicles
• catching fireflies (and then letting them go)
• having some time to teach my kids something new
• what the kids smell like when they come in from playing outside: something like sunscreen, grass clippings, hose water, and kid-sweat
• the stack of books that are waiting for me to read them
• the free Six Flags tickets the school gives out to the kids who meet their reading goals
• short haircuts
  

What I don't like:

• heat
• humidity
• every summer I buy a cool, summery white shirt, and it's ruined within 2 days of its purchase (it actually made it to 3 days this year - still a bummer)
• vacuuming up piles and piles of shed dog fur
• no time of day to go on a run when it's not hot/humid
• kids who don't get out of the pool when it's time to go
• strange comments about my new short haircut ("Mom, you look like Willy Wonka.")
  
  

• my inability to take a good picture of myself (that's actually year-round; not just summer)

elegy for a nerf

Today we bid farewell to the little Nerf basketball. Though quiet and seldom seen, he was always good for a quick game of catch. The perfect weight - heavy enough to bounce on the floor, but light enough to bounce off a sibling's head to get his/her attention without causing harm. He joins dh's ipod headphones, several of Stuntman's socks, the player's manual for Robots on the PS2, a big hunk of the living room couch, 2 TV remotes, and many other objects, all helped along to the other side by Caramel the dog.

Farewell, dear friend. Like the others, our lives are just a little bit better for having known you.

dressed to distress

Here (Mooooom!!) is a picture (I don't want toooo!) of Miss Bee's (Don't brush my hair!) Easter (Ow!) dress that (Get away!) I made (Can I ride my scooter?) for her (I don't want to smile!) last month (My knee hurts!) and that she has worn (Do I look pretty?) twice, counting today (Happy Mother's Day, Mommy!).