Juggling Life

Taken Down by a Late Night . . . Or Was I?

After the whirlwind trip to Salt Lake City, it was time to have fun with Grownup Girl and her good friend from forever (15 years now), the Pinup Girl (I'm calling her that because she has taken to rocking that look in the most adorable way--think headscarves and glamorous sunglasses).

 

The Pinup Girl and Grownup Girl, circa 2009. The party was at my house--I wasn't there but I am told it was a hella good time!

Sunday night they introduced me to a delish drink--an adult Arnold Palmer made with Sweet Tea vodka and lemonade, which I will definitely be indulging in again. Monday night GuG and I made a pesto pizza for dinner accompanied by my go-to summer salad of garden-fresh tomatoes, avocados, purple onion, a little olive oil and lemon juice and some black pepper. We ate it on the patio in fading sunlight, accompanied by a sparkling white wine, as a summer supper is meant to be eaten. We dissected the job interview (high hopes, but no guarantees) and dished wedding plans. It was quite a lovely time.

Later that night--about the time I usually start thinking about putting on my pjs--GuG and I headed downtown to meet the Pinup Girl and her family at a swank cafe where Pinup Girl's sister is a pastry chef. I was sipping a Lemon Drop martini and indulging in Creme Brulee long after I should have been sound asleep.

Five hours of sleep is not enough for me on a school night, so I wasn't surprised to be dragging the next day. But the day after that and the one after that? That had me feeling pretty ancient. I mean I was too tired to even blog GuG's quick, but very fun visit.

Tonight I realized that I ran out of my iron supplements at least six weeks ago. I am pretty seriously anemic and have been for years, so I'm sure that is the root of my extensive malaise. Thank goodness an iron deficiency is more easily reversible than my being old and decrepit, which is what I was worried had happened!

I plan to be operating at full energy level when the Grownup Couple arrive in November for their 2-month clinical rotations--'cause this place is going to be wedding plan central and I know I'm going to have to relearn staying up late!

 

 

On Being Married (A Very Long Time)

I've had this post percolating for a couple of weeks, but no time to write it.* Now I have time and I'm not sure it's the best day to pontificate on marriage-what we with being peeved at my husband because he ruined a sweater of mine by putting it in the dryer even though I've asked him to please only touch laundry if it is sheets, towels or jeans. Conversely, he is likely wondering today why he has to keep telling me that even if you get a great deal and buy ten dresses for ten dollars each, it's still a hundred dollars.

Then again, maybe it's the best day to write about marriage because nobody is wearing rose-colored glasses.

Recently people close to us (nobody you'd know) have been having marital issues and we've been talking to them about marriage and talking to each other about marriage and pondering and expressing why staying married is a very good thing.

If you've been staying together for the kids, the kids leaving changes everything. Even if you have been staying together because you still love one another, the kids leaving changes everything.

If you have been married for 20 or 25 years and you've been building something--secure finances, a family, a social life--together, it would seem to me to be a lot to walk away from. Really a lot. So much so that I have a hard time contemplating what might happen that would make we ever want to turn it all upside down.

The thought of having to see your kids and grandkids only half as often as you would otherwise would stop me in tracks on its own.

Marital bliss looks a loot different at year 25 than it did at year 1. Hopefully you still like each other and enjoy each other's company (I think that's just as important as love) and enjoy the same experiences.In all likelihood you will have built a village that also helps to remind you of what's important in life.

In discussing this with a work friend, I put it this way: I feel like you can either have butterflies or someone that's shown they'll stick around and will hold your hair back if you're really sick. People ought to really consider that when weighing their options.

Sometimes we drive each other nuts and sometimes we make each other laugh--it's been that way 31 years, almost 25 of them married, and I hope it's that way for 31 more.

 

*And even after I wrote it, it took me two weeks to hit publish!

 

 

Salt Lake City Dreamin'

In the interests of seeing what Mr. Fix-it does at his home-away-from-home in Salt Lake City, Social Butterfly and I spent this past weekend--Thursday night to Sunday--in SLC.

We did lots of thrift store shopping (the Mormons run a heckuva thrift store operation), we saw the movie Ted (hysterical and oh-so-raunchy), shopped in Park City (waaay more expensive then Deseret Industries), SB and Mr. Fix-it went on a major hike in Emigration Canyon while I worked (thank you, online classes) and the three of us checked out BYU (no skateboarding anywhere on campus--what's that all about?) and then expored Bridal Veil Falls in Provo.

 

Bridal Veil Falls, Provo, UT

 

No, to those of you that have asked, I won't be moving to SLC anytime soon (or probably ever), but it was a fun visit.

Being of a decidedly non-organized-religion bent, I was very interested in observing the Mormon culture which predominates Utah. Whatever else you might say about Mormonism, it is a joy to observe so many families enjoying each other so obviously and fully. Especially wonderful was the delight with which older siblings interacted with younger ones--shepherding and playing with the littles did not look to be a chore for the bigs at all. I'm not saying you never see that in other families in other places, but it did stand out to me.

Sunday Grownup Girl picked us up at the airport-she got in late Saturday night for a job interview on Monday and she'll be here through Wednesday. If you have a good thought or two to spare for her and Grownup Guy to get jobs with a company out here upon graduation, I'd appreciate it. A graduation in May, followed by a wedding, followed by a honeymoon, followed by a move to San Diego would be almost (but not quite) to good to be true!

 

Leaving On A Jet Plane

You know that my husband currently (and for 14 months now) splits his time between San Diego and Salt Lake City. His scedule is one weekend and two weeks in SLC and three weekends and two weeks in San Diego. That means once a month we have a melancholy Sunday. We're used to his leaving, but it sort of looms over the whole day.

Sunday is definitely a day of rest for me--lazing in bed with the paper and a book, a little laundry and a lot of internet, a batch of muffins, and usually a kayaking outing in the afternoon with a friend. Generally I don't shower until after the kayaking and I don't know about you, but if I'm showering at 5 p.m. and am not going out, I am also not doing hair and makeup.

 

My "bare minimum" look

 A shower, a swipe of mascara and a little eyeliner. Plus, earrings--always earrings. Some of you are thinking--that's the most made up I EVER get. Which is cool, but not me.

I sometimes wish a prettier version of me was the one doing the Melancholy Sunday Airport Run, but then I think, if you can't be a scrub with your husband, that's probably not a good sign for your marriage. And I always look nice for the Friday night pick-up a couple of weeks later!

 

The Picture of Health

A Danger Boy Update

Danger Boy Man has been noticeably absent from this blog this summer. One of the reasons is that I like to use photos in my posts and DB is vehemently fairly opposed to having his picture taken.

Poor Girl Next Door!

In DB's defense, he did spend much of his childhood being watched through a telephoto lens. It was hardly my fault he was so darn photogenic, though!

 

How could you NOT want to eat that cuteness up with a spoon?! (After taking a picture of it, of course.)

Rude gestures to the photographer aside, DB has been quite the wonderful son this summer. Knowing that DB is a spirited, fun-loving sort who'd spent his freshman year like many college freshman do--partying studying--I was moved to request of him, via phone, before he returned in May, that this summer be a summer of "no shenanigans of any sort." Remember, when he came home Social Butterfly's anorexia was still requiring a tremendous outlay of energy on my part, and I was concerned that I not encouner a proverbial straw.

This summer DB has kept himself busy coaching water polo, hanging out with The Girl Next Door, not staying out late enough to cause me worry and helping around the house. In fact, he has helped out so much that Mr. Fix-it actually asked me what I had done to him.

"Well, I did lose my sh*t over the house being a mess once when he first came home."

"Yes, but you've done that a million times. What made this time different?"

"No, idea."

Whatever it was, I'm the only mother of a 19-year old boy that I know that can say my son unloads the dishwasher, takes out the trash and mows the lawn without my having to ask. When I came back early from Flagstaff without warning, I returned to a clean house.

I know, right?

Not that he'll read it--I'm pretty sure he likes my blog as much as he likes my mad photography skillz--but I thought DB deserved a shout-out for giving me what I really needed this summer. Help.

 

 

 

Contemplating Forgiveness (and Apologies)

Back in April, when Social Butterfly was still  deep in the throes of her eating disorder, I referenced some high school drama that took place. I won't ever share all the details publicly in this space, because I wouldn't want a permanent record of the terrible things these particular girls did and said--it is my hope that time and maturity will do their work and these girls will have to carry the burden of their behavior with them forever.

I know from personal experience that mistakes you make when you're young can stick with you forever. I still feel the heat of shame when I think about a very unkind thing I said to a friend when we were both 13 years old. I am quick-witted and on my toes verbally, which is usually a good thing, but I had to learn the hard way to temper that quickness with an equally speedy check of whether what's about to come out of my mouth is cruel--I love to get a laugh, but not at the expense of hurting another person. I apologized mere seconds after this particular incident, but the damage was done. She forgave me, but I have not forgiven myself.

There have been a couple of apologies in the aftermath of the incident involving SB's former friends. I think the people involved may read this blog ocassionally, but even if they don't I think the following is still worth pointing out so we all remember these rules.

A real apology does not contain the word "but." 

A real apology does not seek to deflect or assign blame to the recipient(s) of the apology.

A real apology doesn't hint (or explicitly state) that you're apologizng because you don't want to feel guilty for not having apologized. Or that you're worried about repercussions from outside sources if you don't apologize.

A real apology is concerned with the feelings of the wronged, not the feelings of the wrong-doer.

A real apology comes from the heart--and believe me, the recipient can tell whether an apology does or does not.

As for that other lauded aspect of forgiveness--forgetting--I'm not a huge fan of forgetting. I am more a fan of the maxim that those who forget are doomed to repeat the same mistakes.

I would say that in this case, SB and I have forgiven--in that way that you consider the situation of the person who has hurt you and understand why it went down the way it did. I have to say that the forgiveness had next-to-nothing to do with the apologies (I'm sure you can read between the lines here to see they were not what I would consider real apologies, but more self-serving attempts at assuaging guilt) and more to do with the fact that carrying a grudge is a poison to the soul of the grudge-holder.

Forgiveness and moving forward I am a fan of--but forgetting--I don't think so; SB and I want to ensure we don't end up in a repeat of that situation, ever. I love the Russell Hoban Frances series and this whole thing reminds of Frances' mistreatment at the hands of her "friend" Thelma, and Frances saying, "Careful once, careful twice,/ Being careful isn't nice./ Being friends is better." Yes, being friends IS betther, but it's not always possible--and you need to know when to make that call.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I Turned Down the News, Turned Up the Music and Found My Smile

In the beginning of March, my life was as hard as it has ever been (which I am always aware is not nearly as hard as many others' lives). My daughter had rapidly descended into anorexia, my husband was gone half the time for economic reasons and I'd started working full-time for the first time since I had kids.

The full-time job includes a 30 to 45-minute commute twice daily plus driving as part of my job. I have always been an NPR listener--never music, always information. All the time I was spending in the car meant a lot more information. Sometimes the same information several times a day.

Also in March was my birthday and for that I got an iPhone. I had an iPod adapter in the car and so I started turning on Pandora and listening to music. I played my music loud and I danced. For 30 to 45-minutes twice I day I rocked out in my own little bubble.

You know what?

It made me feel better. So much better.

I can't even tell you the last time I listened to NPR--and I miss certain shows a lot. Fresh Air especially. But it just seems that I needed to learn to turn off my brain for a while everyday. Music does that for me; I'm sure many other people have used music like that their whole lives, but I wasn't one of them.

It took big changes to take me back to that skinny 13-year old girl walking to the community pool with an AM/FM transistor radio glued to her ear and being thrilled every time she heard Margaritaville.

I got an iPod dock for the kitchen as well and the TV stays off and the music plays for the most part.

If something earthshattering happens it will show up on my Twitter Feed or Facebook timeline and I can research more about it if I want to--and I often do.

You know the saying "You think too much"? It applies to me. Happily, I've recaptured the art of just not thinking so much.

Also?

You probably already knew The Red Hot Chili Peppers, Barenaked Ladies, Modest Mouse, The Strokes and Jimmy Eat World have made some great music, but it was sort of news to me. I'm pretty sure I was listening to Raffi when those bands first hit; nobody will ever accuse me of being cutting edge on the music scene!

 

 

The Chicken Whisperer

 

Chickens over Mt. Woodson: A Mostly Still Life

 

These are my friend Lorie's chicken and in back of them is her view. I know. I had no idea chickens would make great pets, but Lorie's love her. Also? They're very pretty. We had a get-together at Laurie's house with the kind of friends who, when someone says, "Can you believe we've known each other 25 years!", you have to respond "I think it's more like 30 plus."

If I ever move it will be for a view.

 

18th Floor of The Pinnacle Towers Downtown.

I have good friends. And an iPhone with photo apps.

 

The Benefits of being a Working Gal

I am lucky to a) have a job and b) have a job I enjoy and c) have a job that pays me pretty well.  There are reasons other than money that make me like working.

I won't ever regret my SAHM years, but it was time to move on. I ran into someone in the grocery today who had kids some of whose ages overlapped with my kids. Except her kids were spread out more and so she's got a middle-schooler. God bless her, I thought as she was buying soccer snacks or somesuch. I'm sure she's enjoying herself, but it doesn't look like fun to me. Been there, done that and all.

Back to the perks of working . . .

Having to look nice: Hair, makeup, skirts and dresses and heels. (But no hose, never hose.) Looking good gives you a little swagger and it's nice to have my swagger back. I know there are SAHMs that resist the call of daily jeans, but I wasn't one of them.

Interacting with men: The world of a SAHM is a pretty female-centric universe. And you really don't want to get too friendly with the SAHDs 'cause then people talk. I've always had lots of guy friends and I enjoy my friends' husbands and consider some of them friends of mine, but it's just a different setting. At work you are just you and not one/half of another entity . . . does that make sense?

Achieving measurable goals: Adding new sites, getting students job, retention rate--they're a little easier to quantify than loads of laundry done.

Having contacts/networking: Grownup Guy was out here this weekend interviewing for a position, upon graduation, as a pharmacist for the company I used to work for--the recruiter I work with in my job was kind of enough to give Grownup Guy and Girl both interviews (hers is later this month). Both of the GuGs already work for the company, but pharmacist positions in San Diego are pretty coveted and not a guarantee. Nothing against Chicago, but I sure will be delighted if they can move here next year.

Sometimes I miss the less frantic pace of life of only working part-time, but just for a minute. Then I come to my senses and thank my lucky stars for paragraph one.