Ouch!

You know those old people that you don't dare ask how they feel, cause they will tell you? You'll hear about every bowel movement, every bunion, every ache of every arthritic joint. You might even get a first class tour of the medicine cabinet with salves (that word is just weird), ointments and pills of miscellaneous shapes and sizes.

I'm becoming that person! Only not as old and not as free with the spewing of the details of what hurts when.

Usually.

Several months ago my right arm started hurting, like from my shoulder to my elbow. After some xrays I found out I have degenerative disc disease and bone spurs on the vertebra in my neck. Imagine little daggers being thrust into a nerve with every movement. Yep, that about sums it up. After some therapy and a couple of massages it got better. Yea!

But...today I woke up with a crick (I don't think that a real medical term but maybe) in my neck. As the day wore on my left arm started to hurt. Again from my shoulder to my elbow. I guess my spurs are equal opportunity ouchies. I don't have time for more therapy or massages so it's just gonna have to get better on its own.

I'll spare you the details of my creaking knees and popping hips. Getting old is not for the faint of heart!

Therapy

I have the most awesome therapist.

I never have to make an appointment.

My insurance doesn't pay her. But she doesn't mind.

She has an endless supply of hugs. Sometimes that's all it takes to feel better, sometimes not.

She lets me cry and supplies tissues.

She gives her opinion but never judges me. She freely gives suggestions but understands if I don't use them.

I feel safe there. Almost in control.

But if I lose it and meltdown she lets me.

She listens until I've run out of tears and find my smile again.

She's only a phone call away ALWAYS.

She just gets me and understands when I don't make any sense. Like saying my kitchen is overwhelming because there are too many empty spaces and I don't know where to put things (that doesn't even make sense to me!).

I don't tell her enough how awesome she is and how much I appreciate her.

She is my mom!

I LOVE YOU MOM!

Dare I say I'm Disappointed?

Staying up until the wee hours of this morning preparing the kitchen for the debut of our fabulous new cabinets was, well, exhausting.

I expected nothing less than to come home from work today and have cabinets that were at least equal to unicorns eating cupcakes and pooping rainbows. There was no hallelujah chorus. No beams of brilliant lights from the heavens. No singing choir of angels. Just plain 'ol cupboards. I don't know what I expected but whatever it was it didn't happen. Spoiled much? Maybe because there are no lights. There is no back splash and no range hood so maybe my anticipation was premature.

But they do have pretty knobs and pulls. Like jewelry for cabinets.

See:

BLING!

Ohhhhhh! Ahhhhhh!

Dust to Dust

I am completely, totally and seriously OVER all the drywall dust in my house.

I don't usually mind dust, as long as it coats everything evenly. Mostly I don't even notice it's there until someone (cough*Nick*cough) runs their finger through it, disturbing the even-ness (that is totally a word).  Even then I just grab the swiffer duster (LOVE THOSE) and wand it over the dust. It sticks to it like a magnet and VOILA no dust.

But since the kitchen renovation from hell (and I say that with total love cause it is gonna look awesome someday) I am living, sleeping and breathing dust. We're probably even eating some cause my husband thinks it's okay to cook in a kitchen that is dismantled. Whatever!

In his infinite wisdom he suggested that I might sand the mortar left behind by the tile that we carefully removed. I wanted to just bang on it with a hammer like they do on TV but he wanted as few chunks taken out of the drywall as possible. Get this, to cut down on the sanding! Yeah, right!

I tried to get Nick to do it. He did. For about 20 seconds. The electric sander is heavy and his arms hurt. Wimp!

Next it was my turn to try. I figured I could make the walls as smooth as silk in short order. I know all about the safety equipment so I put on my snorkel goggles because my sweeties big head stretched out the safety goggles that we bought. I also didn't want to inhale anymore dust that I already have so I borrowed a surgical mask from work (you know the kind that prevents the spread of swine and bird flu). It does however NOT prevent the inhalation of drywall dust. And it also didn't fit with my swim goggles. I decided to forgo the mask. It was working until I realized that I was breathing through my nose into the goggles and I couldn't see because my breath fogged them all up. If I had been able to see, I would have also noticed that I sanded the sand paper right off the electric sander and was pretty much just vibrating a piece of equipment against the wall and was removing NOTHING!

All I have to show for my effort is dry cuticles and broken finger nails. I didn't even create any dust. I give up!

It Is What It Is

I got my hair cut today. I sat patiently in the salon waiting for it to be my turn. In that same small space there was a little boy who resembled a 2 or 3 year old ball of pure electricity. He fidgeted and touched EVERYTHING. There was not one second that he stopped moving. Next to him was a mother with her little girl who was about 4 or so. She sat there so quietly watching the entergetic little boy. She sat next to her mom just waiting for her turn to have a beauticians undivided attention. Yeah, some on their behaviors are learned but some just have to be a boy being a boy and a girl being a girl.

Some things just are.

I will never be a perfect parent, wife, friend, sister or daughter. I will have moments that are pretty good though. I'll most likely always be my own worse critic. I might say things that I regret only moments later but I hope to never have any regret that I didn't say something when it needed to be said. Although I never plan to hurt anyone on purpose, feelings will be hurt and things taken out of context or misinterpreted . I can't help those things. I probably will always struggle with some form of the blues. It runs in my family. I'll likely continue to want things I can't have and not fully appreciate what I do have.

Some things just are. It is what it is.

Family

I always thought of family as a bunch of people that you're born related to. Over the course of my 40-ish years I now know that there are people that are loved as much as family that don't necessarily share any genetic link. I have 3 daughters that share my husbands genes and that I didn't give birth to but that I love with all my heart. I have step-parents that own pieces of my heart. I'm not sure where the term "step" parents or "step" sibling came from. There really is no "step" involved in the love that we share. I have friends who were there when I needed them most and they are as important as my family.

On the flip side, I have family that I know very little about. In a sad twist, divorce causes distance between people. Children are left with emptiness on entire sides of their family tree.  Regretfully, I caused this very thing to happen to my own children. They have relatives that they may never know and for that I wish I could turn back the clock and keep those distances from happening.  I resemble my dads family and have relatives that share my bone structures and eye color but who I don't know very well. Still, the genes that we share make it easy to love them as if we were never separated. My boys have cousins and aunts and uncles that I wish they knew but hindsight is 20/20 and they will need to decide if they want any of these relationships to bloom.

In these days of social media maybe fewer of these situations will occur. Maybe distances won't matter and relationships will naturally occur. I'm not sure that  it's true that chance makes us family but choice makes us friends. I think there is a little chance and choice in all relationships.

Consistently Inconsistent

Punishing a child is hard! It seems like taking away something they enjoy doing would work to get the point across that whatever they did is unacceptable. Almost like a "time out" from whatever they enjoy. But what is an appropriate time to withhold the activity? And what happens when you run out of things to take away?

I'm good at saying "no computer" then kinda forgetting about it for a while. Suddenly I think Nick would like this game. "Hey Nick, wanna play The Price is Right on the computer?" Sure he does! And because mom asked him obviously the punishment is over. But its not and I feel like I suck at parenting. Maybe he takes advantage a little too because the next day, there he is on the computer.

I take his cell phone away but then remind him to take his phone with him to his fathers (mostly so I don't have to talk to Randy when I call for Nick). That doesn't even make sense to me! How is it ever going to make sense to him?

Like this morning, I wanted to tell him he could watch TV until his dad got out of bed. But last night I told him no TV. I was thinking forever but that's not realistic. I found him drawing in his room instead. He was probably drawing pictures of me with flaming swords being shoved under my eye lids! I didn't ask.

When my kids were little punishment was easy. SIT ON THIS CHAIR FOR AS MANY MINUTES AS THE YEARS YOU ARE OLD! Three years, 3 minutes. Usually it worked but it's not that easy any more. 13 minutes of no TV is not gonna teach anybody anything. Accept maybe that you don't miss much of the show because there are at least 13 minutes of commercials on every show.

I guess I'll wait for that magic age when I can look back and say I must have done it right sometimes.

When is that by the way?