Reflections

Twelve years ago today, we were all stunned by the attack on the twin towers in New York City. Many of us watched in horror as the events unfolded. Hour after hour our hearts were wrenched with fright, sadness, and worry. I do not want to jump on the bandwagon and wave an American Flag and pose as if my world was dramatically affected by the terrorist attacks. Other than the small inconveniences and the need to stay tuned into the news, my life went on as usual, except for, disbelieve, worry and sadness.

Even today my heart reflects on the moment I saw the towers hit. For some reason that morning I had the television on as I cleaned my house. Normally, I would avoid morning television, but that day I had turned it on and saw the horrific events unfold one right after the other. I remember calling my Mom to make sure she was okay and telling her I loved her. I talked to my neighbor and waffled back and forth with her about whether or not to pick up our children from school. Somehow it felt like we needed to gather our loved ones together and hang onto them. Threads of our normal were slipping away and holding our children seemed like a way to keep everything as it had been before that morning. Today, twelve years later I still remember every detail of that day.

I cannot imagine that life will not stop for a moment for each of us today. Every single American learned that we are vulnerable that morning twelve years ago. We all learned that our lives are fragile and precious and easily lost when we least expect it. We also learned that strong spirit and belief in the good in others can heal. We learned that hard things help us change and that sadness turns into strength. Mainly we learned that life changes on a dime and small inconveniences are nothing. Waiting in a line, stuck in traffic and even running out of milk are nothing when you know that tonight, you can hug the ones you love. Today is a good day to say an extra I love you and take a moment or two to remember those who lost their lives on September 11, 2001.  

Sometimes the smallest Things Hurt the Most

It was a simple question, but it is an old wound. This morning I asked my husband if he had sent a birthday card to our niece, his Goddaughter. This card is eight days overdue, but as is our custom here, my husband takes care of his family and I take care of mine when it comes to birthdays, anniversaries and family events. It is a system put in place after years of me basically making him look good while he did nothing. Over time I started to resent all the time and energy I put into something that should be my husband’s responsibility.  Let’s face it, his parents did not raise me, I did not grow up with his siblings and his Godchildren’s parents asked him to be a Godfather, not me. In the end he gets pats on the back for doing nothing but carrying the title of Son, brother and Godfather and I did not like that arrangement.

Many years ago when I had asked that we put this plan in place, I was shocked and hurt when I learned that my husband sent out a Mother’s Day card to his Mom, only signing his name and not mine or our daughters names. I was hurt and also alarmed that my husband’s Mom would think I was a total jerk and not interested in celebrating her special day. There was no way to stop the whole mess since the card had already been put in the mailbox.  This was wound #1. I was embarrassed, hurt and hopping mad! Because of this fiasco 16 years ago, I now ask if my husband signed my name almost every single time he sends something out. This has caused wound #2 since now my husband is on the defensive about my constant question “Did you sign my name?” whenever he sends a card or package.

Now these two wounded people, are in a small dispute because this morning I asked, “Did you sign my name?” when I asked about our nieces birthday card. When my husband pointed out how annoyed he was (there may have been a sharp terse tone) that I continue you to ask this tired old question. My panties immediately became twisted and I pointed out (in an equally terse tone with maybe some anger) that if I am not asked to sign the card, I just want to know for sure. I also added (because I tend to not let things go) that some things (hurts) just never go away.

I know that if I just release my need to know how my husband takes care of his responsibilities, I will also release myself from the same noose. 16 years is a long time to worry about whether or not I get credit for a card or a gift. If I really want him to handle it then I really cannot stand over him policing how he handles it. If I am going to do that than why did I hand it to him in the first place? After 16 years I am ready to heal this wound and let it go. It was a simple question, but in the end is it worth wounding over?

Strengthening Muscles

Last Wednesday I started a total body conditioning class that runs Mondays and Wednesday at 6:00 AM until 7:00 AM at my local Parks and Recreation Department. Since it was also the first day of the school year, I only stayed for the first half of the hour long class. My desire to be home and get a picture of my youngest on the first day of her last year of high school preempted my desire to be fit. I could not be two places at once.

This class is intense. There is lunging and jumping jacking, weight lifting and band stretching. It is a nonstop hard core, everything is going to hurt workout. My measly half hour of working out that first morning left me feeling sorry for the women that did not leave after a half hour…every part of me was sore. After one half hour I was already feeling like I had never before used a single muscle in my body.

This morning I shared my pain with the instructor and the rest of the class. I also shared with them how I marveled at their bravery for returning. I felt I had barely made it out alive and they had hung in there for the whole hour. They all laughed at me and said they had been sore too, but having the weekend to recover had helped. Then we got down to business and worked out. Towards the end of class, the instructor shared that no matter how sore we were, we should keep coming. That when we skipped class thinking we were helping ourselves heal we were only making it worse. She also said that by hanging in there and keeping at it the workout would get easier and the pain would subside.

I thought about what our instructor had said on the way home. Isn't that how life works too? If you hang in there and keep at it, almost anything will get easier the new job, the stressful family situation, dealing with a difficult person. I have always told my girls that the tough stuff in life is there to teach us and if we don’t walk through it, it will come back around again until we learn the lesson. I realized this morning that the tough stuff in life builds are emotional muscle. That by staying at it and making your way through it and not skipping it, we build ourselves into people that have the strength to handle most anything.

I am determined to stick with this class for the remaining seven weeks. I am not going to lie and tell you I like being sore, but I will tell you I do feel good about the accomplishment. It is two hours out of my week that is teaching me that the hard stuff can pay off. I am strengthening my emotional and physical muscles and the pain is worth it.

Window on the World

I am looking through brand new shiny windows. After 16 years of dingy not so great windows, I’m enjoying a new clear view. I survived four window men traipsing through my house, endless banging and mess everywhere and it was worth it all! I have a new window on the world.

It’s funny how our perspective changes as we make our way through things. You start out with anxiety, go a little way in and realize it is not so bad. You keep working your way through, cringe a little at random difficult moments and you end up on the other side of the tough stuff. Looking back you see where you came from and you are amazed at what you have accomplished. What seemed impossible turns to possible and you made it that way.

Sometimes putting up with a rough patch turns into a personal heroic moment. You learn all about who you are and what you can handle. Obviously, getting windows does not make me a hero, but I am proud of myself for not letting the stress of the chaos overwhelm me. I just hung in there and focused on the end result.

Today as I gaze outside I can see more clearly. I am not focused on the window and what is wrong with it; I am focused on the beauty that is outside, the sun, the flowers and the blue sky. It’s a new window on my world and I have a clear view.

Upside Down and Crazy

I’m anxiously waiting this morning. I’m excited and nervous. All these emotions are for the new windows that will be put in my home today. My home is 42 years old and our windows are the original windows. These windows are way overdue to be replaced so I am excited. My anxiety comes from my house being in an upheaval. I have removed all the window treatments, moved furniture out of the way and now I wait…in this turmoil. This is something I am not good at, AT ALL!

Heaps and piles make me crazy. I prefer things somewhat organized. I married a man who shoves things away, so often times my anxiety becomes peaked when I walk into my pantry, garage, my husband’s work room or his office or even open my closet and find miscellaneous items that do not belong there dangling on the edge of a shelf. However, out in the open, it is usually somewhat orderly.

Moments ago the window installer called to let me know that they would arrive around noon or 1:00 PM. Are you kidding me? How am I going to not go completely insane staring at this mess and not being able to do anything about it? Perhaps since I am not a window installer I am imagining that the time it takes to install windows is longer than it really is. In my mind, I am now thinking that I will need to make more for dinner so we can share with the window installers.

As much as I want these windows, I also just want this to all be over. I want to tidy things up and put my house back in order. For now I will just have to sit in turmoil and learn patience. There is nothing to clean today; I think I will have plenty to clean tomorrow though. So for now I will just sit here anxious, excited and nervous waiting for my new windows to arrive. 

Meanest Mom Makeover

Things were not looking good yesterday, Miss Crabby Pants Teenager was moaning and lethargic and basically unreasonable. I set a time for her to accomplish the tasks I had given her and she was nowhere near the finish line. In my mind I had planned this nice afternoon of us spending some quality Mother/daughter time and the fact that my daughter was not motivated had made me decide that I was going to leave without her. Why should I sit around listening to my daughter moan and groan when I could enjoy my day? With this in mind I started getting ready to go off on my own.

Once my daughter got wind of my plan she started bugging me to come along. There was a lot of “P L E A S E” and groveling and sneak attack hugging until I finally gave in. Honestly, it was all for the best. Taking her with me gave me time to chat with my girl about what was going through her head. There seemed to be so much anxiety and stress and my hope was to ease some of those feelings.

Our first stop was at a local restaurant for a bite of lunch. We chatted a little, ate and headed out to get our nails done. Next we went to a local mall and walked around, tried on a few possible Homecoming dresses and poked through some of my daughters favorite stores. It was nice to spend the time with my daughter and not have an agenda. We were not fighting over clothes or her dirty room or anything else, we were just strolling along talking and laughing and enjoying our time together. Miss Teen Crabby Pants was still a little anxious, but she had stepped back from her ledge enough that we could have a good time.

In the end, it turns out that this year of huge decisions and big expectations has my daughter terrified. In addition to that the fact that after years of denial she is finally realizing that you have to grow up, there is just no way around it. If I had stood firm in my demands yesterday I might have missed the chance to talk with my youngest about her concerns. If I had not stepped back and looked at the big picture and not just her room, I would have missed her smiling face and her beautiful laugh. If I had not stopped talking about my demands and looked into her scared face I would have missed those eyes filled with worry and I would have never been able to hug her and tell my youngest that she was going to be okay.

Mean Mom had a makeover yesterday. I had to be reminded that parenting is not always about winning the battle, sometimes parenting is about reaching in to the trenches and offering a soft place to fall. In the end the messy room is a blip on the screen, but the laughs, hugs and time together will last both of us a lifetime. I know I have not seen the last of Miss Crabby Pants Teen, but I also know that she is not that tough and neither am I. We can both compromise for the good of the other and meet half way. There is hope for us yet!

Mean Mom Alert

While the rest of our state school districts start school today, our district has chosen to start school tomorrow. Friends that live in other districts are posting first day of school photos and sharing their excitement about the first day of the school year on Facebook, and I am faced with an angry teenage girl because I mandated that she wake up early so that she would be tired tonight and ready to pop out of bed tomorrow morning for her first day of school. I am a MEAN mom, and “You are not my friend!”

I had to remind my sulky teenage daughter that my goal has never been to be her friend; my goal has always been to prepare her to be on her own. I am running out of time to accomplish this task since this is Miss Teen Crabby Pants, senior year of high school. There have been moments in the last few weeks when I have opened her bedroom door and cringed at the mayhem and destruction. I have also come close to going insane as I have watched my daughter wait until the last minute to take care of things she should have taken care of earlier and complain about things, like not having the cereal she likes when I have asked nicely and even firmly demanded (yelled) that everyone here put what they want on my grocery list.

I am not trying to be anyone’s friend, trust me! I am trying as hard as I can to get my daughter to take responsibility for her own self and I will follow a short distance behind in case she needs me. My struggle is now I wonder if I’m the problem. What if I’m not hands off enough, or what if I am too hands on. AGH! My head is spinning with frustration, aggravation, guilt and a very strong desire to run far, far away! I have taken to just snapping at my family instead of talking. I cannot be bothered with being pleasant when I feel like an animal backed into a corner. Honestly, when my daughter declared me, mean and not her friend, I just laughed. That is what insane people do, they laugh.

The best part is that tomorrow morning I will not be here when my daughter leaves for her first day of school. I signed up for an exercise class that starts early and tomorrow is the first day. I cannot miss the first class I would have no idea what is happening, so that means I have to leave the two people in my family (my husband and daughter) that are the least likely to plan, that hate to wake up and also refuse to follow guidelines (like writing food preferences on a list) alone together and pray that all goes well. This class lasts eight weeks and I will be going twice a week. I am actually thinking this might be good for all of us. If nothing else it will be good to have two days a week where I am oblivious to how everything is accomplished in the morning. I will not worry if anyone is up, or if there is a decent lunch packed or even if my daughter is running late. I will be happily working out.

This could be a win/win for all of us. The meanest Mom in the world will be out of the way and the daughter that is determined to drive her mother insane will be on her own to figure everything out. This may end up being the smartest thing I have ever done. Now if you will excuse me, I have to go roust my daughter back out of her bed and be “mean” to her some more. The things I do just for a little fun, seriously!