This Is So Lame

Who are these guys Epstein & Barr anyway and why do I feel like crap?

The past few weeks I've felt very tired. More than just tired. Fatigued. Run down. Exhausted. I felt like I did when I had mono.

I wondered if I was getting enough sleep. Was my medication making me tired during the day? Was I getting enough protein in my diet?

Then last week I became forgetful and I couldn't focus on anything at all. Items fell through the cracks at work and I couldn't concentrate enough to read a book or knit. I haven't had the slighest desire to even think about my Gumption List. When I totally spaced out while sitting at a stop sign on Wednesday I decided it was time to call my doctor.

My GP and I ran through everything. My recent blood work was good. We covered the supplements I take for iron, iodine, and B-complex.

She diagnosed me with Chronic Fatigue Syndrome. Isn't that what every mother has? What? You're serious? How lame does that sound? Kinda sounds like a cop out to me.

But apparently it's a real condition. CFS and serious depression often go hand-in-hand. One can cause the other. Somewhat of a chicken and egg situation.

CFS can also be caused by a B12 deficiency so my doctor prescribed a B12 shot and I felt pretty good afterwards but it wasn't a cure. Since B12 naturally comes from animal sources many vegetarians suffer a deficiency. The two biggest sources are mollusks and liver. I'm not fond of either of those because of a) their functions (filters) and b) mouth-feel. Blech. I do like liverwurst for some reason so I guess I'll eat that and take more supplements.

Another cause of CFS can be a virus such as Epstein-Barr. Mononucleosis is caused by the Epstein-Barr virus and I had it for the second half of my senior year in high school. While I can never have mono again, the virus remains dormant in my system. A long period of stress like I've had for the past eight months can activate the virus and cause CFS. Once, again there isn't a cure.

Bottom line: I have a suspicious sounding condition that turns me into a space cadet and makes it feel like my muscles are painfully melting off my bones. The only thing I can do is take care of myself by eating, sleeping, and exercising properly. Oh yea, and hope for the best.

...and many more!

Today is my Sweetie's 42nd... er... I mean 24th birthday! To celebrate we had a fantabulous cake made by our local pastry goddess.

It was a wonderfully moist carrot cake. I tried to convice everyone that there must be a full serving of vegetables in every slice. I don't think anyone believed me.

That's all for now. Time to snuggle with the birthday boy. Have a great weekend!

One Example of Irony

I’ve mentioned on my blog before that I lived in Louisiana for two years. Plus,I have never made a secret of the fact that I really, really DISLIKED living there. I wasn’t there by choice. The US Army said GO and we went.

We were stationed at Ft. Polk. The post is on the western side of the state, eight miles from the Texas state line, and about the halfway point from Lake Charles to Shreveport. In other words, about 20 miles from where Moses lost his sandals.

The area surrounding Ft. Polk was the polar opposite from anywhere I had ever lived before. Not only was this part of Louisiana extremely rural, it was dirt poor and at times downright backwards. Also, it was the only Parish in the state that wasn’t predominately Catholic. That fact took away my last hope for anything familiar for me.

We moved into post housing on my 26th birthday. We were assigned a roomy townhouse with a large yard. Unfortunately, water poured in through our kitchen roof whenever it rained. The Army did it’s best to help subsidized the local economy by using the civilian workforce. Our townhouse was a great example of that relationship.

A little wide spot in the road called Leesville was the local town. With the exception of Wal-Mart, McDonald’s, and Sonic… everything closed at 5 p.m. Very few businesses were open on Saturdays. Those that were open on Saturday closed at noon and then were closed on Monday.

Since the Commissary (military grocery store) was staffed by local civilians, it followed the local business hours too. Half days on Saturday, closed Sunday and Monday. I had just come from a post where the Commissary was open seven days a week. But here’s the real kicker… if Monday happened to be a holiday such as Labor Day, then the Commissary is also closed on Tuesday! I learned that rule the hard way. On Fridays I always made sure that I had enough milk, bread, eggs, fruit & veggies to make it through to Wednesday.

While living in Lousy-ana, someone asked me if I could go anywhere on vacation, where would I go? Without hesitating I answered, Las Vegas. Anyone who knows me knows that I’m NOT a party girl and definitely NOT a gambler. So this answer seemed unusual. When asked why? I said wanted to go to Las Vegas because everything was open 24 hours.

I was so excited to move to the west coast of Florida and civilization. The first week we lived here I went to Publix (the local grocery store) on Monday just because I could. Over the past 13 years I’ve witnessed this casual vacation and retirement town grow by almost 20%. Like every other local I got excited when a new retailer moved in and then complained about the tourist season traffic.

We don’t want for anything here. If we can think of it, we can find it. Restaurants, shopping, museums, theaters, professional sports, activities, and diversity abound.

I should be happy, right? Overall, yes, I am. But in the past year I’ve noticed that I want to get farther away from the crowds. I joke about running away to Montana for a year for some peace and quiet. When my Sweetie asks where I would like to retire I answer, someplace not so developed. Kinda ironic, isn’t it?

What’s changed?
Has my lifestyle changed?
Have my priorities changed?
Is it a case of the grass is greener?
Have you ever lived someplace that you really didn’t like?

House of Glass

The photos of this beautifully designed house caught my attention yesterday. Nicknamed the “Glass Pavilion” it was designed by architect Steve Hermann in Montecito, California. It was originally to be the architect’s home but is now up for sale for a cool $35 million.

I love everything about this house. But it’s so not my style nor do I think it’s very livable/practical.

You would either have to buy Windex in bulk or forbid anyone under the age of 35 from entering the house. Yes, the house has great overhangs but really, how energy efficient are those glass walls? Then there’s the whole privacy issue.

A very unlivable house.

Or is it?

I asked myself, Why couldn’t I imagine living in this house someday when the kids are living lives of their own?

The house is situated on lush, well-landscaped, 3+ acre lot. Privacy really wouldn’t be an issue with just my Sweetie and I at home. Suddenly, I started thinking that I was hip and artsy as I pretended that someday I could afford this house.

Then I came across this view of the home…

That’s the master bath on the right… just above the garage door. I instantly had the mental image of my Sweetie coming home at night while I was in the shower. Or, heaven forbid, the UPS man pulling up in the driveway to make an unexpected delivery. Yikes!

My fantasy of being hip and artsy was dashed upon the rocks.

Would you live here?

Here’s the slideshow of more photos at WSJ online.

First Day of School and I Didn't Cry

I’m proud to say that I’ve never cried on the first day of school. Yes, I cried on MY first day of school much to my mother’s embarrassment. So let me clarify… I’ve never cried when my boys started school.

In fact, I get very excited about the first day of school. I’m not sure the kids share my enthusiasm. But I get excited for them. I get excited about what they’ll learn, the teachers they’ll have, and the new friends they’ll make.

This year is different. This year my excitement was mixed with something else. I can’t quite put my finger on it and give it name.

It all comes back to time whizzing by faster than I can catch it. I want to put the brakes on life just a teensy bit. I have a feeling that this year will go by faster than ever.

In one year’s time Mr. A will be away at college. Be it either the Naval Academy or a traditional college he’ll be out of the nest. Each milestone that we mark off in the course of this year brings me excitement and a little bit of heartache. The first day of senior year is one of those milestones.

Today was actually a double-whammy. My youngest started high school today. G-Man is a freshman. He’s now in the world of odd & even schedule days, girls, riding the bus home, girls, Friday night football games, and girls.

I was a little nervous for G-Man this morning. He is so like me and I remember how nervous I was on the first day of high school. He called me after school to let me know that he got on the right bus without his brother’s help (Mr. A was at swim practice). Deep down I knew he’d be just fine when he was let loose on his own… I just needed to let go.

Last night I was in full mom mode...

Do you have your schedule?
Is your backpack packed?
If you need something ironed, do it tonight.
Is anyone making their lunch tonight?

My mom mode was driven by my excitement, heartache, and nervousness rolled into one tight little ball. I was certain that I would have a full-blown Mom Moment this morning as I said good-bye to the boys. But I didn't cry. I survived. Mr. A survived. G-Man survived.

Boca Grande Lighthouse

Saturday my Sweetie and I drove down to Gasperilla Island to visit Boca Grande and the lighthouse. I've challenged myself to visit all of the lighthouses in Florida. I'm slowly but surely getting there.

The day was beautiful but broiling hot. Before we melted into puddles standing on the beach we decided to head back into "town" and grab some lunch. It was a sleeply little island. I would have like to have explored a little bit more but my asthma was irritated and the heat only made it worse. I look forward to going back during season when the weather is cooler.

Boca Grande Lighthouse and the Keeper's Cottage.

My Sweetie and I have a knack for visiting lighthouses on days that they're closed. Saturday was no exception.

Boca Grande Pass

I think this is some sort of sea grape. I love the way the vines wind along the beach.

These purple flowers grow on the vines.

These other flowers grow in little patches of vegetation where the dunes meet the beach. It's amazing how much life there is on a stretch of sand.

View from the porch of the lighthouse. Even without air conditioning it would be an awesome job.

Life with Boys

Thanks to a particular Dish Network tv commercial with a miniature giraffe the boys have been speaking in phony Russian accents.

Thanks to my husband they now end everything they say with the phrase,

"...and also catch moose and squirrel."

Two Beauty Products I Love & One That’s OK

I usually don’t review products or plug anything on my blog. But this summer I found a couple of new beauty products that I love, love, love and I want to share my happiness with you. I also found one that's pretty good to round out the trio. Let’s start with that one…

MoroccanOil

The summer interns (read hip, young 20-somethings) at work were raving about this product. I found it online but I didn’t feel compelled to buy it right away. Then I saw it at the salon last weekend when I got my nails done. I bought it on impulse. It was $47. Ouch. It can be found at Amazon.com for $38. But after my last experience shopping at Amazon I was a little hesitant.

(Aside: Dear Amazon.com, please don’t take it personally. Your customer service has always been spot on. But since my credit card information was stolen the day after I placed an order with you, I’m sure you can understand my caution.)

Anyway, MoroccanOil is great for anyone who has hair that tends to be frizzy and wants to blow dry their hair straight. Not Marsha Brady straight but long and flowing. Just a little bean-size amount goes a LONG way. Start applying at the tips and work your way to the roots. Trust me, this isn’t anything like the anti-frizz stuff that first came out in the 90’s. Personally, I don’t care for the musky scent. Other people love it. The good thing is that the scent goes away when it dries.

I’ve received lots of compliments on my hair this week. My hair isn’t frizzy which is remarkable in the Florida humidity. The best part? It speeds up drying! That in itself is a godsend when the blow dryer is heating up a small bathroom when it’s already 80 degrees outside at 7 am.


Pre de Provence Herbal Soap

I’m allergic to so, so many dyes and perfumes that finding a soap or body wash that doesn’t irritate my skin has always been a challenge. For years I’ve been using an English lavender soap but I decided that I need a change. While in Highlands, North Carolina I found this Pre de Provence seaweed soap. Yes, you read that right… seaweed. I picked it up out of curiosity and fell in love with the light, fresh scent. No, it really doesn’t smell like the ocean either.

I waited until I got back home to Florida to use it. This soap makes the creamiest lather and it feels wonderful! My skin feels so soft after my shower. My Sweetie used it too and raved about it. I told him to stop using my soap. I told him he smelled like a girl so he would stop using it! The bar only cost $5 and it’s a bigger than average bar. An excellent deal in my opinion. But here’s the catch… I can’t find a local store that sells it. I need to buy a few bars online when my new credit card arrives.


Yes to Carrots Body Butter

This is my favorite. I bought a little travel size of this body butter to use on my vacation. I fell in love! It feels exactly like whipped butter but without the greasiness. Once again, I have a hard time finding lotions and creams that don’t irritate my allergies. Yes to Carrots fits the bill and has a great light scent.

I started applying the body butter to my feet at bedtime to keep them from getting dried out with all the sandal wear. Very shortly after that I used it on my elbows. It especially feels wonderful on my surgery scars. It soothes them from being rubbed by clothing. Now I slather my whole body when I get out of the shower. Good news is that the scent of the body butter and the seaweed soap don’t clash.

What makes Yes to Carrots body butter my favorite of the three products? The price and availability. I can find it at Target for only about $12. Yes to Carrots makes a whole line of products including Yes to Tomatoes and Yes to Cucumbers. The only other product I’ve tried has been the lip balm. I’m a lip balm junkie and have tried almost every single one on the planet. The Yes to Carrots lip balm is effective, however I don’t care for the taste. But hey, their body butter rocks!

What are some of your favorite beauty products?
Are you willing to try new products?
Do you set a price limit for yourself?

Another Mom Moment and Losing Control

School starts in less than a week. This morning I thought to myself that I should have planned better and taken a day off to spend with the kids. Yes, we just spent the past weekend together driving each other nuts while back-to-school shopping. But if had I taken a day off it would have been to do something fun. What exactly I don’t know.

I got to the office and realized that my parents were taking the kids to the Florida Aquarium today. I should have taken today off and gone with them. Should have, would have, could have. The realization caused me to have a Mom Moment. A Mom Moment that involved tears.

I sat blinking at my computer screen in the throes of a Mom Moment because I didn’t go to the aquarium with my two teenage sons. How silly is that? And what is really bothering me to make me so emotional? The Moment also included guilt that I was a horrible mother because my parents were taking the kids and not me. That portion of the Moment passed quickly because really it’s a grandparent’s prerogative to do the fun stuff with the kids.

In addition to my Mom Moment, I’ve been bombarded today with other messages that have my mind swirling.

Gropius blogged about a delicious afternoon she spent pursuing her artistic endeavors on her porch. She made every minute of her precious ME time count before her husband and boisterous 14-year-old son came home. It made me wonder when I really had my last me/alone time. True, I got a pedicure last weekend. But I spent the time chatting and being sociable with the nail tech. Not exactly a quiet moment. Then last month while staying at the Vinoy, I enjoyed a couple of leisurely hours reading on the Verandah. However, I didn’t fully surrender myself to my alone time. I was waiting on my husband to return from golf so we could have lunch together.

That thought of surrendering myself resonated with me when I read Aidan’s post over at Ivy League Insecurities about losing control (in a good way). Aidan quoted from the book, Writing Down the Bones: Freeing the Writer Within, by Natalie Goldberg.

To be alive, we have to deal with the loss of control. Falling in love is a loss of control. When we die or someone we love dies, it’s a tremendous loss of control. And what’s nice about writing practice is it’s a measured way to dip yourself into that huge vast emptiness, that loss of control, and then pull yourself out so you can feel safe again. You put down your pen for a while and go take a walk. Then you dip yourself in. Sort of in degrees.

The author was referring to writing but I believe the concept can be applied to life in general. I just have to figure out how to let my hair down.

As if all of the above wasn’t enough to think about… my BFF Marcia, who lives TOO FAR AWAY, sent me a one line email with a quote from E.M. Foster.

We must be willing to let go of the life we have planned, so as to have the life that is waiting for us.

Okay, Universe, I got your message. Would you mind sending some instructions along too?

Quote of the Day

"Girls are so annoying! They drive me crazy! If they weren't so
cute, the human population would die off!"

- Mr. A, my 16-year-old son

The Weekend in Bullet Points

My Sweetie worked all weekend long so I spent most of my time with the doofi (that’s plural for doofus).

The Doofi

• Friday Mr. A passed his driver’s test. Yeah! So far there hasn’t been too much whining about buying another car so he and I don’t have to share. Mr. A hasn’t complained too much either.

• G-Man started his own Facebook account Friday evening after dinner. The little punk has more friends than I do!

• Saturday morning I got a pedicure. What is it about freshly polished toes that makes a woman feel sexy?

• This weekend was the tax-free shopping holiday in Florida. The masses were out doing back-to-school shopping… including us. I’m so thankful that I have boys but they can be pains to shop with too. From now on I’m taking them separately. Besides that, do you have any idea how hard it is to find size 14 running shoes?

• I managed to find a couple of cute tops and a dress for myself!

• Mr. A runs into someone he knows almost everywhere we go! He knew the hostess at the restaurant Friday night. Salesperson at the Levi’s store. He knew the girl working the Chik-fil-A drive-thru. We chatted with two of his former teachers at Marshall’s and he knew one salesperson. Then we ran into two of his friends at the grocery store and then one at Staples.

• After shopping Saturday I took a guilt-free nap.

• We watched Little Miss Sunshine and ate Chinese take-out Saturday night. I love that movie. My children have also learned to say “…in bed” after reading a fortune. Now my husband AND children say it. I’m so proud.

• While I stood in my kitchen Sunday morning sleepily making tea, Capital One called because they suspected some charges on my credit card. Who calls on a Sunday morning??? Anyway, last week I purchased a high-speed graphing calculator for my eldest son on Amazon. Someone swiped my info and bought some computer software and cell phones online. I’ve got to say that I was impressed with the credit card company’s customer service.

• I made G-Man go in Ulta with me so I could buy some cleanser. He decided to anoint himself with some Ralph Lauren Polo Double Black cologne. It might smell great but I’m allergic to all Ralph Lauren cologne. We drove home with the windows down and it was 92 degrees outside.

• Mr. A and I went to Staples to buy him his THIRD Cross pen/pencil combo since Christmas. I think he should get one of those ball link chains they use at the bank to secure the pen to his backpack.

• For dinner on Sunday I thought I would make crab cakes with homemade remoulade sauce and salad. I’ve never made crab cakes before and suddenly it seemed like a lot of work. So I made a pie instead. The pie was a little juicy so it looked more like a casserole. The guys loved it and went back for seconds. I was simply pleased with the remoulade. Emeril has never let me down.
  
  

  

The crab cake turned pie turned casserole.

Overall, it was a busy weekend and I’m tired. I did pay attention to my theory of expectations however. It’s true. First I plan and then I expect. Life isn’t perfect and I shouldn’t expect it to be.

Less Than Perfect

The events of yesterday really knocked the wind out of my sails. My Gumption Initiative fell flat. I had a crummy day. I went home and I wallowed. I skipped dinner and ate two scoops of Rocky Road ice cream instead. Yes, I broke both dieting and parenting rules in one single act of defiance.

I think I need to take one giant step back from my Gumption Initiative and breathe. I said that I wanted to go out there and “do things badly.” I didn’t realize that the universe would take me at my word. I still expected everything to turn out perfect. We’ll it didn’t. Let’s face it, my week was lousy.

I’m not sure what this weekend will bring. But I plan to breathe and get my bearings. Beyond that I don’t think I should plan anything. Once I plan, then I begin to expect, and that’s the beginning of my downfall. I’ve got to get used to the idea that stepping outside my comfort zone should be more impulsive and I need to leave my expectations of perfection behind.

Feeding and Firing Friendships

The past few weeks I’ve been thinking about relationships.

I’m very blessed to have strong relationships with the people closest to me. My Sweetie and I have a rock solid marriage and we were the best of friends before we ever said “I do.” I love our children and I also happen to really like them. That’s right, I LIKE my teenage sons. I like who they are as people and I enjoy spending time with them. My parents live only two miles away from our house. Sometimes I may roll my eyes but I know that my parents are some of my biggest supporters and I appreciate the whole extended family thing we have going on.

Relationships are often casualties of depression. My husband, children, and parents have all stood by me and supported me. Sometimes they did it blindly. They didn’t know what was going on inside of me or what I needed. But they were there just in case.

However, most of my friendships (outside the bloggy world) I let slip away. As my very astute eldest son once told me many, many years ago, “It takes two people to be in a relationship.” Yes, it does. And for the past 6 or 7 months I haven’t had the energy to be one of those people. I expended all of my energy fighting my depression and trying to protect myself.

I’ve been able to maintain my bloggy friends though. Why is that relationship easier? We still give and take. We still share and listen. We support and encourage. We laugh and cry. I adore all my bloggy buddies. Yes, you know who you are!

But then while writing this post I wondered,
Why haven’t some of my IRL (in real life) friends reached out to me in the past few months?

For those of you who have kept in touch, stop sweating because this part isn’t about you!

So today I emailed a friend that I haven’t seen or talked to since January. Every time we get together I hear all about the drama in her life. For the past year it’s been her divorce. I must be a great listener because each time we part she thanks me and I walk away feeling like crap. I sent her an upbeat email saying that a lot has happened and that I wanted to have a girls’ date to catch up.

I got her reply.

She’s got “A LOT” going on and she’ll get back to me in a few weeks.

WTF? Where’s the give and take?

I wasn’t aware of this... but apparently there’s only been ONE person in that relationship.

Between this and being snubbed on Facebook, it’s been a rough week on my self esteem.

43!

I am so proud of my son.

G-Man tried out for the high school golf team this week. He played two days of golf in the Florida sun against his peers. The first day he was nervous and his game was all over the place. He came in third in his group of three. He was disappointed with his performance.

This morning I texted him “Good Luck and Relax.” He texted back that he didn’t know what to do to relax. I replied by telling him to take a deep breath, focus on his set-up and swing, to play against the course and not to worry about the other players. I’m not a golfer so I was just winging my impromptu pep talk. Just for good measure, I reminded G-Man that good sportsmanship always goes a long way.

G-Man called me a little while ago on his way home from the golf course. He sounded fantastic! He shot a 43 for 9 holes and came in first for his group. That’s his personal best.

Golf is a big sport in Florida and making the high school team is extremely competitive. Shooting bogey (one over par per hole) is usually the requirement for high school golf. That means shooting 45 for 9 holes or 90 for 18 holes. Have I confused all the non-golfers so far? G-Man’s score of 43 translates that he shot par on at least two of his holes. Awesome!

But G-Man didn’t make the team.

There were two slots open on the team and there were two boys that had lower scores than G-Man. The two other boys shot in the 30’s. I hope G-Man got their names because we’ll see them on the PGA Tour one day. Hey, I told you that golf is huge in Florida.

I’m so proud of G-Man because he was able to overcome his nervousness, focus on his game, and go on to play his best ever game of golf. He didn't make the team but he still came home with a smile on his face.

Snubbed on Facebook

For me, the novelty of Facebook wore off a long time ago. I log on every few days to see what’s going on in everybody else’s life. I hardly post anymore. But last week I took some time and I puttered around and found some friends from high school.

I was excited because these friends were more than just friends from high school. These were friends I knew since nursery school. Friends I grew up with in Pines Lake. Sadly, they were also friends that I lost contact with when I first got married 18 years ago. We lost contact partially because I was the only one of the group to move out-of-state… but mostly because my husband at the time made it very difficult for me to carry on friendships.

So, as part of my Gumption initiative, I decided to reach out to these old friends. I started off small with friend requests to three people: Joanie, Ken, and Jen. Right away, Jen confirmed me as a friend and we chatted online for a couple of minutes. I felt great for taking that first step!

Then nothing. I didn’t receive confirmation from Joanie or Ken. A few days went by and still nothing. Then I received a friend request from Joanie’s brother, Rich. I accepted. But still nothing from Joanie or Ken. I thought perhaps they don’t check their Facebook or email very often. However, this morning I logged onto Facebook and saw that Jen and Ken are now friends. What? Well, obviously, he’s been on Facebook! Why hasn’t he accepted my friend request? Did I do something almost 20 years ago to offend him and I don’t know about it?

Now I feel kinda crummy. I set out to renew some old friendships and instead I’m left wondering.

Have you ever been snubbed on Facebook?
Have you ever snubbed someone digital style?
Should I let it drop or should I send messages to Joanie and Ken?
Has anyone else noticed that I automatically thought that I did something wrong? And that I want everyone to be happy? Ugh!

My Gumption List

The title of the post sorta implies a Bucket List doesn't it? Well, my Gumption List is anything but a Bucket List. I saw a quote this weekend that said, "Life begins outside your comfort zone." That's the philosophy I want to apply to my Gumption List.

Thank you everyone for all your suggestions. Most of them are currently rolling around my brain. But let's recap the bulk of them:

Skydiving - I had a feeling Uncommon Blonde would recommend this one. She tells me it's exhilirating. I don't doubt her one bit. But I still stand by my belief that I shouldn't jump out of perfectly good aircraft.

Recipe Roulette - Wendy, everyone loves this idea! We only added one rule... the kids asked that if a recipe invovled eggplant that I re-spin. Today all four of us ate Swiss Chard for the first time. Yummy!

Scuba Diving - Believe it or not, I used to be an avid scuba diver until I got married the first time. That's when I found out that what's-his-face didn't like the water. My gear got dusty. By the time I met my Sweetie (also a diver) my back hurt so bad that I sold all my gear.

Gropius Adventure - Gropy, I'm ready whenever you are! By the way, when is girls' night at the baseball game? Did I miss it?

Volunteer/Service Vacation - Yes, I'd like to do this. I need to do some research.

Learn to Surf - Unfortunately, the surf parf in Orlando hasn't been built.

Paintball - Mr. A suggested this and it sounds like fun!

Salsa Dancing - I ask my Sweetie if he would take dancing lessons with me and he didn't think I was serious until I ask Mr. A if he would do it with me.

Other ideas include: going back to school, take up painting/drawing, and write a book.

The thing I realized is that once I started thinking about any activity I immediately started throwing out excuses of why I wouldn't be any good at that particular activity. That's my biggest hurdle that I need to get over. I think I need to start off small and work my way up to the bigger things. OR maybe I need to stop thinking so much and just get out there and do!

I did a couple of things this weekend in addition to cooking Swiss Chard. Mr. A and I had a Nerf sword fight in Wal-Mart and I sewed up pillow covers out of the Dutch Wax fabric.

Detail of back

Gumption Needed

Shyness combined with perfectionism can be crippling for a little redheaded girl.

During most of my school years I never raised my hand in class. Even if I knew I had the correct answer, I never raised my hand in class. Why? Because there was a miniscule chance that I might be wrong and THAT would be embarrassing.

Thankfully, as I got into high school and college I got a tiny bit adventuresome and raised my hand a few times. I even challenged my teachers once or twice. But my overall style was to observe and not to become involved. Not to make ripples.

Now as I look at my life, I’ve realized that I don’t engage in an activity or endeavor unless success is guaranteed. I don’t stumble. I don’t fall. I expect everything to be right the first time. How boring is that?

My all-time favorite physical activity is swimming. Not splashing around the pool with the kids swimming. Not boring lap swimming. But hard-core, intense, competitive swimming. That’s what I did for 13 years of my life. I don’t do it anymore. Why? Because I don’t have the time or the patience it would take to get myself to that level of fitness again. Nor do I have the daily time commitment to maintain it. I’ve never admitted this to anyone before because I wasn’t sure if it sounded selfish or lazy or both. Imagine my surprise when I heard my brother express the same exact sentiment.

There is one area of my life that I’m aware of that my perfectionist policy doesn’t apply… quilting. Quilting is an activity and interest that my mother and I share. However, my mom didn’t teach me to sew or quilt. I taught myself. If you were to compare the backs of each of our quilt blocks you would see a difference. My sewing is good. My mother’s sewing is perfect. She was taught to sew by her aunt that insisted the back has to look as good as the front. If it didn’t, she had to rip it out.

So what’s different with this aspect of my life? One simple idea. The Amish intentionally leave a mistake in their quilts because “Only God can make something perfect.”

(If they intentionally leave the mistake that opens a whole philosophical can of worms that we won’t get into now.)

I’m perfectly happy making less-than-perfect quilts. It’s okay. I’ve got a pass. The Amish say so and they’re expert quilt makers.

But why can’t I apply this theory to the rest of my life? I don’t have to be perfect. What I do doesn’t have to be perfect. It’s okay to try and fail and try again. Why should I be afraid to try something new?

From now on I resolve to be less-than-perfect. I want to do new things and I want to do them badly. I want to be a success at failures. I want to send ripples out to my environment and see what bounces back.

But already I’ve reached my first hurdle. I don’t know what to do! I’ve lived inside my comfort zone for so long that I don’t know how to step out of it.

I need a healthy dose of gumption!

To get me going I need to come up with something that’s impulsive and not so responsible. The only rule is that it can’t be anything detrimental. In other words, I don’t want to go into debt to pay for a fantasy vacation to Bora Bora. Also, I shouldn’t do anything irresponsible like suddenly quit my job and leave my family without health insurance. Other than that, there aren’t any rules.

This is where you get to help. I NEED your suggestions! I need ideas of activities that will get me outside my comfort zone. Ideas that will get me to try new things. Ideas that will help dissolve my emotional reticence.

Online I read about one woman who sang Amazing Grace while in line at the DMV. By the end of the song, everyone in line was singing with her. While this was a great idea for her it’s not a good idea for me. I would never add to anyone’s pain and suffering at the DMV by singing. So there’s another rule: no singing.

Let’s hear those ideas!!!

Fun & Funky Fabric

Today I bought this 2-yard piece of fabulous Dutch Wax African motif fabric. Say that 10 times fast! Dutch Wax is a process for making batik fabric developed in the late 1800's. The bold colors attracted the people of Africa and so the fabric was produced with African patterns and exported. The fabric is still made in Holland today but the piece I purchased happened to be made in Nigeria.

I was instantly drawn to both the colors and the design of the fabric. This is a very bold purchase for me. If you were to look at my house (or my wardrobe) you would only see solid colors. I'm not big on patterns. Except of course in quilting. Rather than cut it up for a quilt I've decided to make some throw pillows for the Danish furniture (pictured below).

Be Present

Has anyone else looked at the calendar this week and thought,

How did it get to be August already?

Where has this year gone? Time has been slipping by faster and faster. It’s true. At 40 years of age, a year is equal to 1/40th of my life. As opposed to when I was 10 years old and it was 1/10th of my life. Even if fractions make your brain hurt like they do mine, you get the idea.

What I find ironic is that I hear people wishing their lives away rather than living in the moment. Yes, that sounds a bit melodramatic. But how many times have you said, “I wish it was Friday.” Or how about, “I can’t wait until my vacation next month.”

The past nine months for me have been lost. Since December of last year I’ve been consumed by depression. It controlled my life. Hardly anything else got through the fog. While I’m happy to shrug off and forget the pain of depression, I can’t help but wonder,

What did I miss?

How many of my Sweetie’s jokes went unheard? How many kisses and hugs were left unreturned? How many of the kids smiles went unseen? How many times did the dog go unnoticed?

I’m more than a little bit cranky about this. Dare I say bitter? Mostly because this long period of depression comes so closely on the heels of my year of living in a drug-induced haze. Before my spinal fusion surgery I survived on (legally prescribed) painkillers that left me with a head full of brain termites.

So, yes, I’m grumpy that time is whizzing by exponentially faster AND forces beyond my control have caused me to miss large periods of my life. But my grumpiness is short-lived. Why should I waste my energy focusing on what I might have missed and risk missing something new? Make sense?

I’m at a point in my life in which I want time to slow down. I want to savor every moment. This is mostly the mom in me talking but this desire overlaps into other facets of my life as well.

When my boys were babies and toddlers I always looked forward to the next milestone… sitting up, first tooth, crawling, etc. I waited with anxious anticipation for the next developmental stage because I knew the next one was only a few weeks or months ahead.

But now things are different. The boys are about to enter the next stages of their lives. In three weeks time Mr. A will be a senior in high school and G-Man will be a freshman. Yes, I want to savor every moment. Before school starts there will be a driver’s test, school physicals, golf try-outs, and senior yearbook portraits. It’s all happening so fast.

In one year Mr. A will be off to college – be it the Naval Academy or traditional college. He will begin a new phase in his life and it will ripple across to the rest of us. My husband and I will adapt to being parents of a college student and halfway down the road to an empty nest. For the first time in his life, G-Man will have to adjust to daily life without his older brother. Somehow I have a feeling that he may not appreciate all the attention he’ll receive from his parents.

Many changes are coming our way in the next twelve months. My resolution? To treasure each moment. Each and every experience. Not to worry about what I might have missed. My family tells me not to worry about so I won't. I will laugh at the silly jokes and smile at the not-so-funny ones. I will listen and I will look. I will reciprocate every kiss, hug, and touch. I will rub Molly's ears. I will proofread essays, go to swim meets, and attend school functions.

I will NOT wish for Friday unless it's an unsually rough week.

In other words, I will be present.

Dunce

I like to follow my blog statistics using Google Analytics. I don't do anything with the information. But the markeitng side of my brain geeks out a little bit every morning when I sign into the report. I enjoy looking at where my visitors come from. In the past year that I've been tracking the stats no one from Louisiana has visited my blog. I find that quite humorous because I severely disliked living in that state. It's also fun to see what ridiculous phrases people Google that land them on Pines Lake Redhead. You wouldn't believe how many people misspell "penis."

Anyway, when I changed my blog layout last week I needed to re-install the tracking code provided by Google. By no means do I understand html very well. So I read over the instructions before installing the code. The directions are contradictory as to where to place the code. I remembered this from last time because I accidently installed it in the wrong location. It's also sort of frustrating because you don't know that it isn't installed properly until the next day when the data comes in... or is supposed to come in.

So right from the get-go I fretted about where to place the tracking code. Is it here or here? I installed it and the next day I found out that it didn't work. Argh! I go back and try it again. Still doesn't work. I do this for FIVE days. Finally, I emailed a friend in Pennsylvania that's familiar with all this stuff because he does it for a living. I emailed him everything... instructions, blog template, tracking code... the works.

Bottom line... I got so caught up trying to figure out WHERE to place the tracking code that I didn't realize I was copying the sample code from the instructions rather than the code with my blog's user ID. Whoops.

Yep, I'm a dunce.

A Boy and His Woobie

Mr. A's quilt (aka a woobie) is finished. He seems most appreciative and I have a real sense of satisfaction. This quilt is a long-time-coming replacement for the TV quilt my mom made for him when he was a toddler. A couple of years ago I decided to make new woobies for the boys when I notice my then 6-ft tall 14-yr-old son trying to wrap up in a 3-ft x 3-ft quilt when we had family movie night. G-Man's quilt will be next if he can decide on the fabric he wants.

By the way, the t-shirt he's wearing is one that he's had since the 4th grade. It's his favorite t-shirt. I can't believe it still fits him (sorta).

Mr. A liked his quilt so much he put it on as a cape and sailed through the house. I'm not sure if he imagined himself a king or a superhero but the only thing I could think of was Joseph and the Technicolor Dreamcoat.

I used 100% cotton hand-dyed batik fabrics. No, I didn't dye the fabric myself. I love using these fabrics beacause they get softer and softer everytime the quilt is washed. I also used cotton batting and Egyptian cotton quilting thread.

The entire quilt was machine quilted.

The binding (edging) was sewn down on the front of the quilt by machince.

The binding was then rolled over and sewn down by hand on the back. It has been a long time since I've done any hand sewing. It turns out that not only I couldn't see to thread the needle but I couldn't see the stitches I was sewing either! In order to finish the binding, I had to buy these cheater reading glasses!

I guess it's my eyes way of telling me that I'm old!

Note: Mr. A is now 16 years old and 6' 3". Ack!