The Weekend Flow

This weekend went by amazingly fast.  Time always moves fast on the weekends, but for some reason it seemed to go double speed this weekend.  When the kiddos were younger, it felt like no big feat to get out the door by 9am if we needed to; maybe it was because they really had no say in what went on and couldn't voice their disapproval or drag their feet.  Or it could have been because we'd all been up since 6am and were just ready to get the hell out of the house.  Whatever the reason, my big plans to get out the door and running errands by 9am THIS Saturday did not happen.  It was 10:30 before I was on my way, and I seemed to hit every red light and make every single wrong turn it was possible to make.  I had a list of about four things I wanted to accomplish in the 2.5 hours I had available.  After trips to six different stores (and probably twice as many wrong turns), I think I marked off two of the four things, and I was running late.  It was frustrating.  The rest of the day actually went pretty well, though - we baked Halloween cookies with some friends, went out to dinner, and generally had a lot of fun (well, the kids and I did; J had to work until dinner on Saturday). 

Today, although not as frustrating, went just as fast.  Pancakes and eggs in the morning, followed by household crap that needed to get done.  I actually managed to get in a half hour nap at some point, which was definitely needed.  I also was able to squeeze in a 3 mile run this afternoon, which started out really difficult but ended up feeling good.  Then we did dinner, the trick or treating thing with the kiddos, and now the weekend is over.  There are plenty of things I didn't get done this weekend, but I turn into a pumpkin after about 9pm most nights, regardless of whether it is Halloween, so my weekend is essentially over.

One other thing that happened this weekend  - on Saturday morning, I spent about 45 minutes in the glider with my girl as she woke up for the day.  She brought in a blanket and her animals (she has a complete menagerie) and cuddled up, which is a little out of character for her.  At 4.5 years old, she tends to be not especially given to lots of hugging or cuddling - most of the time she'd rather be playing with her brother or doing something active.  But Saturday morning, she snuggled in and we rocked and talked while my boy played with his Legos around us.  It was a very pleasant and peaceful way to start the day.  I guess maybe that's part of the reason I didn't get out of the house until 10:30 that morning, so I guess in retrospect, I'll take the late start in exchange for the good memory.

The Laundry Fairy Strikes Again

Any house with two working parents has to have some sort of division of household labor. Our division is generally informal and very flexible, with the exception being laundry. For whatever reason, the laundry is my province - maybe because I run out of clothes before anyone else? At any rate, my standards are pretty low when it comes to this area. If it is clean, and in the appropriate basket (one for each member of the family), that's good enough. My kiddos' rooms are upstairs, and it's pretty rare that the clothes ever make it to their rooms; I just don't have that kind of time on the weekends. But they each have their basket in our room that they will root through each morning to pick out the day's clothes (folded clothes? what's that?).

I earned the nickname "Laundry Fairy" after I made a sarcastic comment about how the laundry gets done around our house; the kiddos picked up on the name and loved it. Ever since then, when the Laundry Fairy messes up and puts a piece of clothing in the wrong basket, the kiddos crack up at the Laundry Fairy messing up. In the past, the mistakes have been accidental, but these days? The Laundry Fairy might be accused of occasionally planting a pair of underwear in the wrong basket - because we all know how hilarious a pair of girl's underwear is to a 5 year old boy.  It's a small thing, but they always crack up.  If only it could always be so easy...

End of Week Random Running

Last night I managed to get in a quick three mile run while my girl was at gymnastics. After the kiddos went to bed last night, I pulled out my running/exercise log to look over the past year and see how things have gone. I started this log at the end of December 2009, and have logged just about every day I did something active (usually running or tennis, but also some skiing thrown in). It looks like I'm on track to have exercised about one third of the days in the year. Between traveling, working, kiddos, and a frustrating and somewhat prolonged injury at the beginning of the year? I'm probably lucky to have made that.

My plan at the end of 2009 was to gear up and run a marathon in the spring of 2010, but hamstring tendonitis in early January completely derailed that plan. I was in the middle of ramping up, doing 5-9 miles fairly regularly, and everything came to a screeching halt. It took three months of medicine, resting, trying to run, resting some more, and a LOT of irritation before I was able to run even a mile without having to stop in pain.

It was an incredibly frustrating time, because I could feel the nice base I'd built slipping away, and there was nothing I could do. I did some spinning on the bike some evenings, and I managed to play a little tennis without gimping around too badly, but everything I did was affected. There were so many times I'd go out to try to run just a little, and I'd have to stop in pain after less than 5 minutes of slow jogging. At that point, I simply wanted to be pain free - I didn't even care about the lost base anymore.

I've still not built back up much of my base yet, but I will say that most of the time I go for my runs, I really enjoy them. It's not completely pain free even now, but it's enough that I can ignore the remaining achiness that comes and goes, and lose myself in the run.  It's much easier to remind myself how lucky I am to be able to still make my body do pretty much what I want it to do, because it hasn't always been - and won't always be - this way.

Resetting the Baseline

A friend of mine from law school posted a link to the the following article:  "Twenty-First Century Stoic -- From Zen to Zeno:  How I Became a Stoic."  Link:  http://www.boingboing.net/2010/10/27/twenty-first-century-2.html.  The article does a quick comparison between the philosophies of Zen and Stoicism (which, to be honest, I was completely unfamiliar with before this article).  The author attributes his wish to study human desire and his contemplation at becoming a Zen Buddhist as the starting point for his research on Stoicism.

The idea behind Stoicism, at least as this author relates it, seems to focus on living in the moment as one way to increase the happiness in your life.  One technique the author related, which I found interesting, is negative visualization.  As I understand it, this is taking a moment in certain situations and flashing to a "worst possible scenario" for a moment.  For example, if you are saying goodbye to a friend, momentarily contemplate that you might not see this person ever again - which is certainly possible.  It's not something to dwell on, but rather just something that reminds you not to take that friend (or whatever the situation is) for granted.  The author suggests that these be "fleeting thoughts" only a few times a day.  This type of thinking "has the effect of resetting the baseline against which we measure our happiness." 

It struck me that another purpose that this type of thought process serves is to remind you on a constant basis that the life we are living is not infinite.  There will be an end.  As the author says, "...there will be a last time you drink champagne -- or water for that matter.  There will be a last time you touch the face of another human being."  Although it's not something that is very comfortable to contemplate closely, it is very, very true.   

A couple of posts I've written have referred to the difficulty I sometimes encounter in finding "joy" or "happiness" in my everyday life.  There are so many details, tasks, and reminders, and so much cacophony that sometimes it's hard to find those emotions.  I'm not sure if it is the current state of the world (see articles talking about increases in the rates of depression, for example), or if the shrinking world just allows a more comprehensive understanding of the human race as a whole, but I know I'm not the only one looking.  I think what it comes down to is how you are most able to identify the meaning in your life.  Everyone has to find his or her own definition of that, be it through religion, a philosophy, or simply a set of ground rules you've made for yourself. 

As I've gotten older, I have come to believe that the meaning I will find in my life is not necessarily some over-arching, grand goal.  As kids, we're given the message that we can be anything we want to be, and we should explore and exploit our potential to the maximum extent possible.  Typically that is assumed to be in occupational or monetary success, and the tagalong "as long as you are happy" is thrown at the end, but rarely emphasized.  I'm not sure that this order isn't backwards, and I'm not sure that we don't really need to watch the underlying message (or maybe it's completely prominent - see rampant consumerism on television every night) that nudges the real truth towards the almighty dollar sign.

One way I try to find meaning in my life involves a letting go of things I consider to be superfluous and an attempt to focus on the things that generate contentment and a quieter mind.  The interesting thing is that, what I consider to be superfluous is without a doubt something that in someone else creates the quiet mind.  Another interesting thing is that, in a few years (or maybe even a few months?), I will probably want to reexamine how things in my life are lined up in order of priority and importance; perhaps at that point, a formerly superfluous activity or item will now be one of the key items in my life. 

Irrespective of all the above rambling, I did enjoy the article on Stoicism, as it was something I was relatively unfamiliar with but has as its goal something I can identify with.  I will probably pick up a piece of information or a technique here and there and try to feed it into my regular thought process.  Maybe it will help me to occasionally reset my baseline and remind me to focus on the here and now, and not dwell on the past and future. 

Another interesting article focused on happiness and the decision making process, also posted by my friend:  http://query.nytimes.com/gst/fullpage.html?res=9E0DEFD61538F934A3575AC0A9659C8B63&scp=2&sq=pursuit+of+happiness&st=cse&pagewanted=all

And Sometimes Things Go Right

So after all the bellyaching I did yesterday, it turns out my database administrator was able to work some minor miracles and we lost only the time it took to restore the database as opposed to losing all the work that had gone into it so far - hooray!  And, my flight last night was completely smooth, on time, and easy in every sense of the word, with hardly any anxiety at all.  Maybe I should always have a glass of wine before getting on a flight?  The kiddos were in great moods last night, they had a wonderful morning today, and in general, things are going well.  I probably shouldn't say that too loudly, but after Monday?  I feel sort of vindicated. 

So today, the plan is to knock out a bunch of work, and then have a drink with a friend/former boss later this afternoon.  I graduated a year before J in college, so I spent that year working in one of the administrative offices on campus while I waited for him to graduate.  The person I'm going to meet later today was my boss during that year, although that sounds kind of funny now, because I don't think in terms of "having a boss" these days.  At a law firm, the partners are in charge of the attorneys; those of us who aren't partners have as many bosses as there are partners at the firm.  So there's not one single person that I report to, but rather whichever partners I'm working with at any given moment.  There are always horror stories out there about nightmare partners and demanding situations, but I've been fortunate to not have any of those at my current job.

Anyway.  I'm also hoping to get a run in, but that is looking a little iffy.  The times in my life where I've been consistent about running I've either a) followed a training schedule with mandated running distances; or b) run every other day for whatever baseline distance I was running at the time (sometimes it has been 1 mile, sometimes 2; right now it is 3-4).  Since I don't really have a goal in mind right now, if I can hit the every-other-day target, I'll be happy.  That means today is a running day, so maybe I can convince myself to run after the kiddos are in bed tonight.  That's a big maybe, though.

Work Fun

Yesterday was just one of those days. I had two projects going at the same time that involved two separate databases.  Yesterday morning, I was supposed to take the first database to a client for them to review. As soon as I got to work, I learned that there was a file on the database that was corrupt and the entire database would need to be reformatted and reloaded. Greaaaat. That takes an entire day, so I lost a day there.  I'm still hoping it will be finished this morning so I can get out to the client's and then get outta dodge.

The other database is one that about 4 of us are working in at any given time. In large cases, there are often thousands and thousands of documents that we need to take a look at to determine which ones will be useful. In this particular case, my database contains about 135,000 documents - a pretty good number of docs and a lot of GB of information. I have spent the better part of two or three days getting it set up and ready to go, and we all spent nearly all of yesterday working in it.

As I was wrapping up a few things late yesterday afternoon in the database, the program decided to liven things up a bit with a big ass monkey wrench. In the course of about 5 seconds, I lost all of the work the crew did yesterday, and all the work I've done over the last few days. So my day in Houston yesterday essentially resulted in nothing to show for it and a waste of three other people's days, which frustrates the hell out of me.  A few years ago, I probably would've gotten completely stressed about it, but I try not to do that as much anymore.  Doesn't serve much purpose, and glitches in databases are just part of life sometimes. 

I'll be able to recreate what I've done, and the others can do the same, so there's not a huge loss - it could have happened 3 days from now and it would have been far, far worse.  But it's such a waste of time, and I hate wasting time.   

Well...

More bullets - it's one of those days:

• It's another Monday in Houston, where it's still HOT.  The high today is near 90, and we're at the end of October.  Crazy stuff.
• Just popped the second diet Coke of the day.  I went to lunch with some friends and ate a ton of excellent Mexican food.  The downside is that I now want a nap in the worst way. 
• I'm planning on a run later today - somewhere between 3 and 4 miles.  The run was supposed to happen this morning, but I can't seem to haul my tail end out of bed most mornings.  Laziness.  I need to figure out how to find my motivation in the morning.
• I need to make a Wally World or Target trip for some necessities, including a little something to take back to the kiddos.
• The project that I'm in Houston for is stalled today.  I'm hoping the logjam will clear so I can wrap things up and go home tomorrow.
• I can't believe Halloween is almost here.  We are already sliding towards the holidays, and that's just frightening. 

Irrationality and Air Travel

I flew down to Houston this afternoon, apparently just ahead of the craptacular weather that took over LR this evening.  Honestly, I detest flying.  I'm not really sure why, but but I have a hard time getting through a flight without being nervous.  On a day like today, when I knew there were thunderstorms in the area through which we'd be flying, I was nervous before getting on the plane (if it had been already raining, I would've just given up and driven).  We hit a few bumps on the way up, and you could feel the wind blowing the plane around in the sky, but it certainly wasn't the worst weather I've ever flown in.  Regardless, until we cleared all the storms in southern Arkansas and got above the clouds, I had a hard time keeping my heart rate down. 

I know that the odds are against my ever being in a plane crash.  I know that air travel is exceedingly safe these days.  But at the same time, I knew someone in college who was killed in a plane crash, which sort of nullifies some of the more rational arguments.  After that happened, there was a period of time during which I was completely petrified to fly.  During this period, J and I planned a trip to Hawaii (I might have been terrified of flying, but I guess wanted to see Hawaii more).  So I had this great plan on how I was going to handle the flight.  The trip from LR to Hawaii required us to change planes in LA, so I figured if I could just suck it up on the flight from LR to LA, I had some great meds that I would take in LA that would knock me out for the longer flight over to HI.  (I'm not big on medicine as a general rule, but desperate times...).

So, we boarded the flight in LR and  I managed to hold it together for the flight out to LA.  As we were landing in LA, I took the medicine that I was hoping would knock me out for the flight from LA to HI (phinergan in case you are curious - a half tablet will render me loopy and sleepy for hours).   We disembarked in LA to catch our connecting flight when catastrophe hit - the flight from LA to HI was delayed.  For an undetermined period of time.  Right after I took the medicine that was supposed to knock me out for the next several hours.
 
I have a vague recollection of being in the LA airport, propped up on J's shoulder, drooling all over the place and struggling to remain upright.  This plays in a kind of continuous loop for the length of time we were in the LA airport.  FIVE HOURS later, we boarded our plane to HI.  By then - the medicine was beginning to wear off, I was once again coherent enough to be petrified of flying, and I couldn't take any other medicine for several hours.  Let's just say I learned a valuable lesson about air travel on that trip...

These days, most of my flights are of much shorter duration - an hour to an hour and a half typically; maybe an occasional three hour trip to Vegas.  For a long time, I was able to get past the fear, and flying didn't bother me at all.  But for some reason, ever since I've had kids, flying makes me at the very least nervous, and on some days more than a little frightened.  Today was just one of those days when the nerves and irrationality got the better of me.

Saturday, in Bullets:

Quick synopsis of the weekend so far:

• Last night, fell asleep somewhere around the 7th inning of the Texas / Yankees playoff game.  Woke up just in time to hear that Texas won, then went back to sleep.  Just pitiful - it wasn't even 9:30pm.  This probably resulted in:
• Woke up at 6:30 this morning with more energy than necessary for a Saturday.  Going back to sleep wasn't going to happen, even though the kids slept in until 7:30. 
• Took care of some household crap this morning (read: finally tackled the kitchen).
• Loaded the kids into the car and had lunch at Five Guys.  It was such a gorgeous day, we sat outside and enjoyed the fall weather.
• Spent wayyyy too much time looking at furniture (sofas, chairs, etc.).  The kiddos pretty much ran amok throughout the furniture stores - I'm sure they loved us.  At the end of the day, it was a no decision. 
• Flagellated myself in a fast 3 mile run.  All three miles were under 10:00 miles, which is pretty damn fast for me.
• Cleaned up, getting ready to head out for a pizza party for a friend's birthday. 

Mother Nature's Sense of Humor

When J and I got married, we took a cross country trip for our honeymoon.  Both of our cars were typical college student cars - good for getting around town, but definitely not suitable (or safe perhaps) for making a long road trip.  J ended up buying a new car a month before we got married.  He is one of those engineer types, and true to form, he researched the hell out of the available cars, considered his options, visited dealers, and agonized at length before pulling the trigger on a new sedan that eventually earned the name "Bender."  For many  years, that car was his Baby - god forbid anything damage that car. 

The car had a bit of an inauspicious beginning, encountering a fender bender  in a vineyard parking lot in Northern California a little over a month after he bought it.  That small fender bender sent him into a black funk for the next few days, even though there was really only a minor scratch and the dent popped right back out.  It was not a fun incident.

Fast forward a couple of years.  We'd moved to Houston, but always came home over Christmas to be with family.  I'm not sure what year it was, maybe 2000?, but we drove into LR late on the night an ice storm was hitting the area.  We barely made it to my family's house before the worst of it hit; I think the car was skating on the sleet as we finally reached our destination.  When we pulled up to the house, J made a point to look around and park where there was nothing directly over the car that could damage it, should things start falling with the weight of the ice that was coming.  My house had a large, old tree in the front yard, and he avoided that thing at all costs.  He ended up parking slightly uphill in the driveway, away from the tree, which was to his left, and just in front of a power line strung along our street.

Despite being exhausted from the drive, I couldn't sleep that night.  When I was growing up, my family was a little strange in this area - it didn't matter what time you got up at night, there was usually someone prowling around getting a snack, drinking a coke, watching tv, or just trying to figure out a way to go back to sleep.  If no one was actually awake right then, there was usually evidence that someone had been up just a few minutes before (a still cold soda, the remains of nachos on a plate that was still warm, etc.)  We were all nocturnal and none of us had a normal sleep schedule.  So that night, when I gave up about 2am and went upstairs to get on the computer, my dad was awake and reading.  We sat in his office, listening to the ice coming down and the tree branches falling.  The light outside had a strange, orangey glow to it, and every so often you could see the flash of transformers blowing around the city.  It was just a nasty night. 

Around 2:30, we both heard a loud "crash" from the front yard, followed by a few more bangs and what could only be described as a "bonk."  From my dad's window, you couldn't see exactly what had happened, but it was obvious that the street light in the front yard had gone out.  Ominous.

As we made our way outside, we realized that the big tree in the front yard had indeed lost a large limb, as we expected might happen.  We also would expect any limbs that fell to land on the power line running parallel with the street; the line was threaded through some of the branches, after all.  What we didn't expect is that, rather than snapping the power line, the force of the limb falling actually pulled the light pole over.  And instead of falling parallel with the street and missing J's car, the pole fell slightly uphill, into our driveway, and directly onto his car, leaving several good sized dents and I think a passenger side door that was unable to open.  The night suddenly felt about 20 degrees colder than it had previously.

J slept through the whole thing, but I didn't really sleep the rest of that night.  I don't think I can do justice to the torrent of words that were spoken the next morning when he saw the damage; despite all his planning and forethought, despite all his care, mother nature totally jumped up (or fell over) and bit him in the ass.  I have to say that the whole things was kinda funny at the same time as being irritating, but most of all?  I was totally relieved that I had nothing to do with it.  'Cause that would just have not gone well AT ALL.

Company Picnics and Making Friends

A few weeks ago, I went to J's company picnic. Despite having lived in LR for nearly 2 years, I had not yet met anyone he worked with, so I was kind of interested to put some faces with the names.  However, I assumed that I would be meeting these folks with J as a buffer - you know, to do introductions and silly things like that.  The joke was on me.

As it turned out, I ended up taking the kiddos and going it alone.  Oh the irony - J had to work that Saturday.  So I'm going to show up at this picnic, kids in tow, not knowing a soul.  Yay.  The kiddos immediately scattered to the big bouncy things that they all gravitate towards, and I forced conversation on someone who turned out to be something akin to J's boss.  I'm standing there, chatting about this and that, and he mentions all the places he has lived, including a stint in Houston for a few years.  We talked about that for a while, and he commented that LR is by far the friendliest place he's ever lived.  His neighbors are great, people talk to you without having an ulterior motive, and he and his wife are just blown away by how nice the people are.

Hmmmm.  I had to think about that.
See, while it IS a very nice place to live, and while I've met very nice people here, and while people may be more polite and friendly here than other places, it's been difficult to cultivate good friendships.  I know that it takes a while to form a group of friends after you move to a new place, but somehow I thought it would be easier here.  I've introduced myself to people at t-ball games and soccer games, and been met with limp handshakes and confused/frightened looks.  This was the norm where we used to live - that's just how you did things.  You struck up a conversation, shook hands and introduced yourself.  Maybe it was the business world, maybe it was the neighborhood we lived in, but that's just how it worked.  That didn't mean you were going to be lifelong friends - or even good friends.  But at least you could find common ground and hold a conversation for half an hour or so. 

It's a little different where we live now, and to be honest, it sort of threw me for a loop.  It's a slower pace of life, and a lot of people have lived here their entire lives.  Even though we grew up here, I still feel like sort of an outsider.  In thinking about it, I was probably a little too aggressive on the "playing nice" part...  But whatever the case, it felt much more difficult to strike up a casual conversation.

Anyway.  At the end of our first year back in LR, we were invited to a crawfish boil by a friend we knew from high school.  She and her husband throw one every year, and we thought we'd go, make an effort to be social, and see what happened.  At this point, I tried not to force conversation on most folks, because I seemed to scare people off.

So J and I went to this event sometime in October last year; it was outside at dusk, in their backyard, with a Hogs game going in the background.  It was a really nice set up, with a ton of people, and perfect, crisp fall air.  The very definition of football weather.  J and I stood around for a while getting a drink and some food.  I found a couple of chairs at a table that had several people already sitting at it, and sat down to eat.  I'll be damned if the lady sitting to my right didn't immediately turn around, stick her hand out for a handshake, introduce herself, and start a conversation.  After a few minutes, I got a few words in and asked her what she did.  Her response?  Attorney. 

Huh.  Maybe it's just in our blood.

Meatball Mania

Yesterday was kind of a strange day.  I've been crazy busy at work and it came to an abrupt stop yesterday afternoon as we wait for a vendor to finish their stuff so we can move forward.  So I had an hour or two in the afternoon where things were kind of quiet, and I managed to knock out a few chores that I've been putting off (cleaning the kitchen - ahem).  I really like to cook when I have the time, but I almost have a mental block against starting to cook in a dirty kitchen.  It just doesn't work.  Now, the floor may stick to your shoes like a movie theater (and often does), but the counters and sink need to be clean for me to cook.  I do have some standards. 

So I cleaned up the kitchen and started working on dinner.  When I have time to plan and think, and the energy necessary, I like to cook from scratch, but those things come together most often on the weekend.  So last night it was quick and easy spaghetti - sauce from a jar (very rare around here; I almost always make my sauce), meatballs, and some green beans.  The kiddos were busy playing a game and J was running late, so I had a glass of wine and read a book until we were ready to eat. 

We eat dinner as a family most nights that I am in town, so the kiddos are used to sitting down with us at the kitchen table.  Getting them to STAY in their seats is a different matter.  Sometimes it reminds me of a whack-a-mole game, their heads are popping up and down so much (need more to drink, have to go to the bathroom, need a spoon because I dropped my first one, need another napkin, and so on and so on).  So last night, the boy was out of his chair for some reason.  He had just taken a big bite of meatball and wandered across the kitchen to where J was getting seconds; I think he needed another spoon.  J looked down, realized that B was out of his seat and told him to go sit back down.  B looked up and in that split second, he sneezed - twice.  With a mouthful of meatball. 

I think I popped a few blood vessels trying not to laugh.  Meatball went everywhere.  Between B's cracking up and J's "oh gross!" it was all I could do not to completely lose it.  It also made me very glad I didn't bother to clean the floor before dinner.  J was trying to play it straight, because he was disciplining, which meant I was supposed to keep a straight face, too.  Yeah.  Let's just say that didn't happen...

Universal Humor

Nothing immediately jumps to mind to write about today, except that it finally rained! It's been over a month since our last rain. And of course, the worst rain hit around 7:45 this morning, right when I'm taking the boy to school. And of course it's not a morning when I can just drive through and drop him off - oh no. It's his day to bring a snack for the class, so we have to find a parking space, slog our way through the mud with an umbrella, a gallon of juice, snackage for his class, his backpack, and his lunchbox. If you know anything about 5 year old boys, you know about how much stuff they are willing to carry without going into the whine zone...very, very little. I'm certainly not complaining about the rain; I just think the universe has a funny sense of humor sometimes. Not that the universe cares in the slightest about me - but still.

There Will Be Stories

You know there will be some good stories when your husband calls you from the Vegas airport at 2:30 in the afternoon and he is mostly drunk, nearly babbling, and in a fantastic mood...

Robbers Robbers Everywhere

Yesterday afternoon, I was driving my kiddos home from the birthday party and Build-A-Bear extravaganza that was our Sunday.  My 5 year old boy asked me from the back seat, "Mom, are there any robbers around here?"  I hesitated a split second before answering that yes, there were robbers everywhere.  I felt kind of torn about whether I should answer that way, because part of me wants him to always feel safe and secure and not have to worry about things like that.  But that's not real life. 

So instead, I explained why there are robbers everywhere, along with the situations that people sometimes find themselves in that leads to "taking other peoples' stuff".  I tried to keep it on a 5 year old level, but I wanted to drive home the point that life isn't about the stuff that can be stolen by robbers.  Most of the time, stuff is replaceable.  I wanted him to make the distinction between the value of stuff and the value of people - his friends, family, etc.  I think I got through to him, although I'm not sure.  He did say that he wasn't afraid of robbers (which is good), and asked a few questions that made me think that he at least understood what I was going for, but it was still hard to tell.

There are a lot of lessons that I want to teach my kiddos, although I know that no matter how hard I try, they are going to have to learn many of them for themselves as they get older.  There's no other way to do it - there is no way to shield your child from the pain and stress they are going to encounter as they wrestle with life.  I feel like I'm just here to create the foundation on which they will build - or maybe I'm creating the filing system they will use to organize the lessons they learn.  I want them to be able to think for themselves and reason through things, rather than making decisions based on fear or laziness or "going with the crowd just because".  I also want to instill in them a slowness to judgment and conclusions, because few things remain simple as you get older.  Every story has another side to it, and it's very rare that you really understand both sides.  But if I can give them the ability to make good decisions, the tools they need to think critically before they act, then I'll feel like I've at least given them a solid starting point.

Balacing Acts

Not a whole lot to talk about today, just keeping a bunch of balls up in the air. We had an unexpected birthday party to go to today (it was at 11, I didn't find out about it until 8:30 this morning), took the kiddos on a promised trip to Build-A-Bear this afternoon, we all had a (much needed) nap, and now I'm debating whether to fix dinner or go out when my sister in law and her family come through town. At some point I need to do all the things to get ready for the week - finish up laundry, do some meal planning, hit the grocery store, make sure the school stuff is all in order, but I'm not finding the motivation for that just yet. Heh, I'm not sure when exactly I'm expecting the motivation to show up, but hopefully in the next hour or two.

One of my issues with traveling for work is the fatigue that comes with it. Although I'm more used to it now, some trips just wear me down. This past week was a really busy one, and the next few months (literally until the end of February) promise to be busy and stressful. The anticipation is killing me. I try very hard to keep a work-life balance that works for me and my family; usually I can keep things in check. The next few months are going to be life out of balance, and that thought makes me feel kind of tired and unmotivated.

Whew.

Holy cow the last few days have been busy.  I worked every night last week except for one; my eyes are getting blurry from reading so much. 

Drove back to LR from Houston last night, it was a surprisingly fast drive.  I just zoned out for several hours and listened to music.  How is it that I'm only just now learning about The National???  One of the guys I worked with this week turned me on to them; he had them going in the conference room we were working in.  They make me think of Morphine, with a similar murky sound that reminds you of dark 3am parties.

I haven't exercised since Wednesday, and I'm not sure how much of a chance I'll get this weekend.  J is in Vegas for a boys' weekend, which makes me only slightly jealous (I do love a good Vegas trip). But I've missed the kiddos and am looking forward to spending the weekend with them.  We're going to watch the Hogs game with some friends, maybe watch a Star Wars movie, probably do a little shopping, and I think we've got my sister-in-law and her family coming in tomorrow night for dinner.  So we'll definitely stay busy.

The boys' weekend in Vegas is a revisit of at trip that happened 7 or 8 years ago.  Almost the same cast of characters (minus one guy I think), all folks we were friends with in Houston.  J and I were talking about the differences between then and now - mainly that everyone now has kids (all the guys are part of the couples we used to hang around with), and everyone is in a more stable financial position than we were then.  Two couples are expecting their second kiddo, and I think we are the only ones who are entirely out of diapers - THANK GOD. 

While I am sort of jealous about it, I'm glad he's going.  I usually try to take at least one trip on my own every year (typically to see girlfriends in other states), and it sounds strange, but I enjoy the time away.  It's a little different now that I'm traveling so much for work; the trips aren't as much about getting away for a break as much as they are reconnecting with good friends.  When the kiddos were babies, it was a LOT about taking a much needed break!  But I think the separate trips are good, especially when he's been holding down the fort with me traveling so much.  At the same time, it's kind of strange to have the kiddos to myself all weekend.  It feels like I'm going from 90mph to a screeching halt.   Have to remember to slow down and recharge this weekend.

Off to see what kind of chaos is going on in my house; judging by the noise, there has been a (hopefully small) flood in the bathroom while I've been writing this...

Memorial

This afternoon, I went to a memorial service for the father of the main partner at my law firm.  The man, in his 90s, died on his birthday an hour after celebrating with his family.  What an amazing way to conclude a life. 

The memorial service was very subdued and dignified.  The man was an accomplished physician, who had spent much of his life assisting indigent populations.  By all accounts, he was a true gentleman, a very kind human being who enjoyed his life and who treated people with respect and care.  The service could have highlighted his many accomplishments and the significance he had in many peoples’ lives.  Instead, his son spoke of him for about half an hour, telling the man’s life story in humorous and straightforward terms.  There was a great deal more chuckling than tears at this service. 

I know his son and his granddaughter, who is my age; I work (sometimes closely) with them.  And just by knowing them, I would have been surprised if it had been any other way.  I spent several weeks on a trial team with both of them, and through the whole thing, both were first class people.  They are both very modest; always turning compliments and accolades around to include the team and deflecting personal compliments.  It was a pleasure to spend time with them during what was otherwise a very stressful trial (not sure there are any other sorts). 

The afternoon reminded me of the After Life post from a few weeks ago.  This man has an “after life” that is inspirational.  His good qualities and his kindness live on in his son and granddaughter, and other members of the family.  There were no trumpets, no loud tributes.  Just a simple acknowledgement of a life well lived; this acknowledgement will continue forward every day in the lives these people live, and will continue to inspire others.  That, to me, is an after life worth striving for.

Note to Self:

You are no longer in your 20s.  Staying up until after 1am three nights in a row (school nights no less) is not a good idea. 

Bullets

Today:

• Busy.  I've been on the go since I got to work this morning. 
• Long, but good.  Heading out to play co-rec softball with some friends tonight.  The game isn't until 9, and we'll probably all hang around and chat after, so it's going to be a long night.
• It finally cooled down a bit in Houston.  This must be one of the 10 days a year when it's nice here...how lucky I am to be here right now.  Hah.
• Had lunch with my closest friend at work, caught up on kiddos and work stuff. 
• Looking forward to catching up with friends tonight - I have several really good friends who I don't get to see enough since we moved (well, I didn't get to see them enough before we moved too, but it is what it is).  Many of these are the fun, flirtatious friendships that have developed over several years of playing together.  And the fact that the league calls itself a beer league gives you some indication of the level of competitiveness involved.  Always a good time.

That's really about it, my brain is too fried to much other than catalogue the day and check out. 

This Is Where I Should Be

Sunday afternoon, I was packing up for my upcoming week out of town.  The boy came down from his naptime and wanted to watch television.  We have just recently started letting him watch the Star Wars movies, and we had told him he could watch one Sunday afternoon.  I called my dad, who lives nearby, because he had told me that he wanted to come over and watch the movie with him.  Even though my dad had just left his house to run an errand, he turned around and headed our way.   I told the boy that his grandpa was coming over to watch the move with him, and my boy just beamed.  He was so excited his grandpa was coming over to watch the movie with him.  Later, watching the two of them curled up on the couch, watching the movie together, I once again remembered why we made the move from Houston.  My thought - this is where I need to be. 

Today, I'm in Houston.  We have a crazy busy week at work, with deadlines and demanding clients and difficult opposing counsel.  I'm working on a couple of different cases with people that I really enjoy working with, doing work that I generally enjoy.  I don't do the heavy hitting court appearances in my job; I generally run in the background, providing support to the heavy hitters.  I like having that function - it lets me sleep at night.  As I moved from office to conference room to phone call today, taking care of my tasks and moving things along, the same thought occurred to me - this is where I need to be.  Right now, I feel fulfilled in my job.  Being in Houston, in the office with everyone else, gives me energy that gets sapped when I work from home for days and weeks at a time. 

Conflict much?

Uphill Running

I went running this morning.  It was supposed to be a longer run (hah, that's only 5 miles or so these day).  Our house sits up on a hill, so generally the only way to run if I start from here is down.  That means that the end of the run, right when you are most tired, is uphill.  Not fun. 

There is another option.  There is a subdivision across the street that is up on a higher hill than we are.  I've never run up there, because honestly the hills just looked a little too steep (read: holy hell I'm not running up that).  Today, I felt like challenging myself, so I went uphill to start the run.  I was so glad I did.  Below was my reward:

I hope I never again live somewhere without these types of views; I need this type of reminder and perspective in my life.

I had a lot of things on my mind this morning, lots of things I'm thinking on, and this just helped to clear the cobwebs and attain a little focus.  I only lasted a little over 4 miles, but it was so worth the pain I'm going to feel tomorrow.  I'm hoping to put some of this stuff into words later this week, but weekends around here stay busy and I have to pack for yet another trip.

See you on the flip side.

Busy Saturday

It's an absolutely gorgeous Saturday, although I think it's going to be a bit warm.  Anyway, we're headed to a company picnic, maybe to the airshow, and then having some friends over later for dinner.  Somewhere in there I'm hoping to keep up with the score of the Hogs game.  It promises to be a fun day.  Have a great weekend!

Recess for the Brain

I went for a run last night, the first one in nearly a week.  It was just a slow 3 miler (well, all my runs are slow!), but it felt good to get my body moving again.  I started out listening to a podcast, but that just wasn't cutting it, so I turned it off after about half a mile and continued with the evening sounds as my company.  My route last night was on a jogging trail that has some pretty deep woods on one side, and the back fences of houses on the other, so it stays pretty secluded.  It was nearly 7:00 before I got out there, the sun was going down, and the air was cooling off.  The fragrance of pine trees, freshly cut grass, and assorted fall flowers accompanied the run, and I tried very hard to just enjoy the solitary time outside.  It was oddly quiet, with only a few crickets here and there; I guess it's gotten too  chilly for many birds in the evening. 

 As I ran last night, I tried to let my mind drift around the smells and sights of the run while letting my legs drop into their own rhythm.  Letting my brain spin itself out down whatever random strand it chooses is one of my favorite things about running.  I don't really run to get faster, or to race.  I run partly for the vain reason to make sure that my clothes to fit, and I run to stay in shape as I get older, but perhaps more importantly, I run for the mental aspect. 

With running, once your legs come online, you can pretty much let them take over the physical and you can set your mind free to chase down whatever strands need pursuing.  There are times when you do need to pay attention to your stride, breathing, form, or other technical aspects, and that's fine.  But my favorite part of running is knowing that for the length of my run, whatever it may be that day, I can give my mind permission to roam, and see where it takes me.  That time is mine, and mine alone, and I can spend it however I want.  I've often called my exercise "my therapy" and there's probably more than a little truth to that.  It's hard to come back from a good run and feel as stressed or as irritable as you were when you left - you've just let your mind out for recess; how can it possibly come back feeling anything other than happy and relaxed?  And the final cherry on top?  A well deserved post run treat (so what if my treat is a whiskey & coke or a glass of wine to end the evening - don't judge).  The perfect end to a busy Thursday.

Living the Moment

It gets harder as I get older to tap into the emotion I label joy.  To me, joy is the carefree, content, happy feeling that used to occur, however fleeting, in certain situations - watching a powerful storm move in, or gatherings with good friends.  It's not necessarily a quiet mind, although there is some of that, but it is a relaxing of tension and living the moment for what it is, and not what will happen in 30 minutes and  not what happened a year ago.  I wonder if we gather so much baggage through the simple of act of living that it makes it harder and harder to let go?

I'm not sure where I'm going with this, but I just wonder what it is about life that seems so hard sometimes.  Why do we, as we get older, lose so much capacity for joy and for appreciating the small things?  Do we feel we don't have the right to do that anymore?  That we are so busy trying to get things done and take care of business that we aren't entitled to slow down and just appreciate the moment?  I have to remind myself all the time to slow down, and often even that doesn't work.  I wonder how many times in the day I tell my kiddos to "hurry" because we are running late, or how few times I sit down just to sit, for no other purpose, and pay attention to the slower things. 

I'm rambling, and I know it, but sometimes writing is how I think.  I have a sort of slow correspondence going with a friend from high school right now, talking about our lives and the different routes we took.  It makes me ponder the "me" that existed 20 years ago, the emotions and person that I was then.  No doubt that we all change over time, and while many aspects of that person are long gone (and good riddance!), there are some aspects that I'd like to reclaim, such as the capacity for much more joy in my life. I just don't know how to start doing that.

Burn, MF, Burn!

This weekend I discovered the answer to one of those questions that everyone at some point ponders, but hopes they never learn the answer to.  What happens if you leave the house with the oven on.  At 450F.  For the ENTIRE WEEKEND.  Yeah. 

Fortunately, in this case, the worst result was the dirty looks my husband got for the rest of the afternoon.  I couldn't be any meaner to him about it, because for a few minutes I thought I had been the one to leave it on - and it's entirely possible that I will do that one of these days.  Still, I could have gone the rest of my life without knowing that it was possible to leave an oven on for an entire weekend.  Sigh.

Reminders

  

 So the Girls' Weekend to Fayetteville was awesome, of course.  We spent all day Friday just catching up with each other, playing cards, munching, and hanging out.  We had to make a Sonic run, of course - our friend who lives in Oregon has to have a Sonic run because the closest one to her house is nearly two hours away.  So her vanilla diet coke runs are few and far between, and our Sonic runs are tradition. 

 

 Saturday we actually managed to get ourselves out of the house at a reasonable hour - mainly with the siren call of HUGO'S!  If you are at all familiar with Fayetteville, you have to be familiar with Hugos, home of the Derek's special sandwich (one of the best damn grilled chicken sandwiches you can get anywhere).  Their fries are great hangover food, and the laid back, below street level atmosphere rocks.  These things are all well and good, but the real reason to go - Grasshopper Crepes. 

Holy cow guys, these things are soooo good.  Yummy crepes stuffed with mint chocolate chip ice cream and oreos, covered with more mint chocolate chip ice cream and chocolate sauce.  We were all completely full after lunch, but obviously that did nothing to impair our ability to make those bad boys disappear.  Awesomeness. 

 

  

We spent Saturday afternoon before the concert at Wilson park, a park about half a mile off the U of A campus.  We met up with some good friends from our college years, and watched everyone's kids run around with the disbelief that comes when you realize time isn't standing still.  It's bittersweet to mark time with old friends, you know?  It's always so much fun to catch up on what everyone is doing, but at the same time, we're starting to think in terms of our kids going to college down the road, and high school reunions with too many years in front of those words.  At the same time, we've turned into those older folks you used to see walking down memory lane  I used to watch them, being glad I wasn't there yet.  Heh.

Saturday night was the alleged reason for our Girls' Trip.  We went to see the Black Crowes at - get this - the Northwest Arkansas Amphitheater.  When we were buying tickets, we all somehow failed to see the tagalong line "at the Northwest Arkansas Mall."  It was a tent.  In the mall parking lot. That was when we realized why the tickets had been so cheap - you could get yourself a pair of Dockers at JC Pennys and see a show, all at the same time!

Of course, the show wasn't the main goal of the trip - they could have canceled the show and we would have all been just as happy; it was just an excuse to get together.  And honestly, the concert itself was pretty damn good.  I thought the acoustics were fine, and the Crowes played for nearly 3 hours - awesome, awesome show.  There was still some irony in the fact one of us flew from the Oregon, one from the North Carolina, and one drove from the Alabama, for what was essentially a mall parking lot concert.  

The details of that night shall remain confidential; however, there might have been one or two folks who rolled down a grassy hill just for the hell of it in the middle of all the exiting concert traffic.  I'm not sure they needing the rolling for the world to be spinning, but whatever.  It was a blast.  I get bogged down in real life a lot and forget to be grateful for the many things I have. Sometimes I think I forget how to feel happy.  This weekend, and these girls, are a reminder of that feeling.  I'm incredibly fortunate. 

My Girl

For the Girls Weekend, I actually ended up taking my little girl with  us, too.  She is 4, and although she was originally supposed to stay with a grandparent, that fell through so she came along on the trip.

I've done a lot of traveling in the two years since we moved to Arkansas.  I've spent a lot of time on the road, and it started when she was about 2.5.  I'm not someone who is usually dragged down with guilt - I don't "do" guilty very well anymore.  Somewhere in my 20s I decided to shed the ever-present guilt complex (not a good enough friend, not a good enough wife, I should be doing more housework, etc.) and I've really not looked back.  So while I do travel and I am away from my kiddos, unless I see that there are real problems with me being gone, I don't spend my time feeling guilty about leaving.

My boy, who is 5.5, has always been good about telling me when he's unhappy about my leaving, or if he's missing me, or just what he's thinking or feeling in general.  My girl, however, is much less likely to verbalize anything.  She's the one I try to spend a little more time with when I'm home, but I know our relationship is not as strong as I'd like it to be. So when the childcare plan fell through for her, I wasn't entirely disappointed.  And she was completely jazzed about getting to go on a girls' trip. 

She managed to stay awake with us the first night until nearly midnight - I'm not sure she's ever been up that late before.  She hung with us Thursday night staying up late, she was up early on Friday, and she was golden.  I couldn't have asked for better behavior from a 4 year old; actually, I wouldn't have expected it from a 5 year old.  She was simply wonderful.  We got to snuggle and spend some time together, she got lots of attention from her "aunts" and she was just amazingly well behaved.  We slept in the same room, and she woke up with the biggest smiles on her face.  She'd jump in bed and cuddle for a few minutes, but she was also ready to see what we were doing that day.  She was a little grumpy on Saturday (wellll, we might have both been grumpy), but she was still well behaved, and she held it together until last night after we got home.

Holy hell.  Last night, I'm going to bet that my neighbors thought I was killing my girl.  She had a meltdown of EPIC proportions.  I forget that 4 year olds may not meltdown very often, but they have incredible stamina and their screams can shatter glass.  Good god.  I made her get out of the shower earlier than she wanted, and she just lost it.  It wasn't the first time she'd dissolved into tears, but it was the first time that she just couldn't pull it together.  It culminated with me hauling her kicking, screaming, flailing naked ass up the stairs and into her bedroom with instructions not to come out until she had her pajamas on and had calmed down.  I'm pretty sure I heard shoes being thrown at the walls and doors, but I could be wrong.

I guess she just held it together as long as she could, and the effort meant that she had to get the stress out somehow.  But damn. I think my ears are still ringing.  Eventually she pulled it together, got her pajamas on, we read stories and she seemed much happier.  All in all it was a great weekend.  But damn did I pay the price for her good behavior.  At some point the temper tantrums stop, right???

35

I went with The Girls to Fayetteville this weekend.  We all met in college at Fayetteville sometime during our freshman year, and we've remained close friends ever since.  We are all over the country now, in four different states and three different time zones, but we manage to get together about once every year or two.  This weekend was in Fayetteville for the Black Crowes concert - signature music from our college years.  It was a terrific concert, made all the better by running into the keyboardist beforehand.  Great music, incredible weather, interesting ummm smells...it was all good.  Perfect, even.

As of this week, we are all 35.  It doesn't seem possible, really, that we could actually be contemplating our 40th birthdays.  The differences in being back on campus after being gone for many years were interesting, and it wasn't just the new buildings (although there were a lot of them!).  I can remember wondering who used to buy the clothes and non-school books in the university bookstore, because how the hell could I afford $50 for a sweatshirt and still eat???  Now I get it.  We buy them - the folks who go back, the ones whose memories help suspend time for a weekend.  But even in the midst of the memories, I'm still glad to be where I am now.  I'm not sure I'd go back to my early 20s again, as terrific as they were.  I kinda like where I am right now. 

35 Is:
*Being able to walk into a university bookstore and buy a shirt (or two) without worrying about whether you'll be able to buy toilet paper this week.
*Still being surprised by old friends.
*Going to a concert and really not giving a damn about how badly you dance, because you are just so happy to be there, with your best friends, enjoying the music.
*Taking your husband along with you for the trip (because he really is one of the girls) and watching him and one of The Girls get totally plastered - and no one getting sick, and no hangovers in the morning.  Guess that means that we drink smarter these days.
*Driving through campus and occasionally not knowing where you are because there is so much new construction.
*Beginning to feel settled in who you are, but knowing that the ability to surprise yourself is very much still there.  And being wary of it.
*Pretty damn good.