This is the Life We've Chosen

I miss you.

Really, I do.

I miss writing for fun or for conducting cerebral acrobatics or for just having a spot to relegate my thoughts when it all gets too bunched up and cluttered on the inside.

I miss the freedom of listening to random nothingness.

I thought that life was busy before.  And I suppose that everyone was right when they said, "It's not so bad when your kids are really little.  Sure, you miss the sleep and the quiet.  But when they get older, well, that's when the bigger worries come."

My kids aren't old.  Sam is turning 12 in two days.  Kate is 9.  And, Claire is 6.  But they're not babies or toddlers or preschoolers.  They can pour their own bowl of cereal and make their own bed.  Kate is becoming quite the master laundry expert of the house and Sam is pretty good about doing anything you want him to, if given a list.  Claire, well, she's a work in progress.

Two days a week, I have thirty-one 7 and 8 year-olds in a classroom.  One night a week, I have graduate students.  And luckily, I have another graduate class to teach on the docket as well.

But between the shuttling of piano, ballet, speech, Boy Scouts, Daisies, school, and soon to be football, soccer and gymnastics...I'm often tired. 

And so, I don't run like I did before.  I don't write like I did before.  I don't often post on Facebook or share my opinions about the fucking debacle that has become our political reality.  I've often wondered if the reason that my life has shifted so much in the last few months is that I'm officially living in the Zombie Apocalypse and no one asked me whether I wanted to be here.  The only thing that seems to make me laugh are really good SNL episodes and sometimes, humoring myself with the ridiculous banter that ensues between people who will intrinsically never change the "other's" mind.

That said, I feel badly....that I don't do more to demonstrate my opposition to the current political climate...that I don't write articles highlighting the very real catastrophic calamities that are on the horizon, if we keep heading down this undeniably, unGodly, fucked up path.

I feel badly that my house is often a wreck and that many times, I squeeze everything that needs to get done in the 11.5th hour.  And that I'm not meditating or talking to my children about the ills of the kind or lack there of leadership that we're witnessing. 

But in the very quiet moments when there is a second to breathe and no expectation of me, except for my thoughts, here is what I know to be true.

This is the life we have chosen.

We are married.  We are parents.  We have jobs with responsibilities.  We have bills.  We have people getting test results back that scream of uncertain futures.  We have science projects that are due and oil that needs to be changed in the car.  Groceries that need to be bought.  People that we need to text and meet for coffee because it's been too long.  We need to say I'm sorry and have sex, even when we're tired.  We need to review English assignments and time speeches and get lunches ready.  We have presentations for clients on a short turnaround.  And, tax appointments.  And pain.  And hope.  And anger.  And love.

And in these ways, we are all simply living the lives that we have chosen.  Trying to do our best with where we are and what we know to be true or palatable today, until tomorrow brings a different chapter in the story.

So, if it's okay, I'll keep writing and sharing my mundane stories.  They're not necessary or even helpful.  They're just a slice of life that maybe you can relate to. 

Because I miss you.

And all of the ugliness that I feel surrounded by particularly in the early morning hours when I check my phone and view a new executive order.

I like sharing my kids with you and hearing about yours.

I like knowing that you are there and that as people, we are not so far apart, all just trying to live the lives we have chosen.

The Good Girl

Say please and thank you.

Don't make a fuss.

Be on your best behavior.

Go with the flow.

Do what you're told, when you're told to do it.

Speak when spoken to. 

Be a good little girl.

For as long as I can remember, there's always been a prize for being the good girl.  The one who doesn't ruffle tail feathers, who makes due, obeys and in general, makes life easy for those around her, particularly, those in control.

Don't get me wrong, being kind, abiding by good manners and not being a jack ass just because you can are important attributes and ones we should applaud.

The problem is when bit by bit, gradually, before you know it's even happening, you trade your voice, opinions, hopes, desires for the good of the cause, eventually, at any cost.

It's too easy, really. 

It starts to happen with the little things.  Like, when you really don't want to do something but it would make it so much easier if you just sucked it up and did it.  And that's life, right?  The constant negotiation of when you're going to put your foot down and fight for your rights versus when after some exasperation, you just decide to take one for the team.

But what happens when you've been taking one for the team long enough that you forget to ask yourself if you want to be on the team anymore or if you like your position or if you want your role to change or be modified?

I think these are worthy questions that need to be asked in relationships at home, work, with our family and friends and in general...

When does it behoove you not to accommodate or play nice?  What would it look like if they didn't immediately think of you as the nice girl or the one who can always be counted on?  At the end of the day, I'm slowly becoming more comfortable with the idea that respect for another as far more admirable than liking them.  And the people I admire most are those who've decided that this is their one and only life and that maybe it's time to speak up, not tow the line and honor their truth, even if it doesn't groove with the dominant voice.

And to that, I say it's okay not to be the good girl.  It doesn't immediately imply that you have to be the bitch...although, sometimes, that's called for.

Rather, it means that your voice matters, always.

Happy First Day of School

We woke up this morning and all of the sudden, our family had a 4th grader, a 2nd grader a soon-to-be preschooler. 

Here you are...

As we ate our bowls of cereal, brushed our teeth, braided your hair, put the finishing touches on your lunches and gave you a blessing...I thought, please, please let this be a sacred, beautiful year for all three of you.

Let this be a time where you break through with something significant...where you learn another side of compassion, where your heart grows larger and your brain expands beyond all measure and your faith deepens and you feel both your roots and wings.

You're all getting bigger and well, I think I'm staying the same.  So, while I smooth back your hair, smell your breath, check for straggling toothpaste marks and do a double check of your backpacks...I thank you for letting me fuss over you and for being your over protective, hopeful mama for yet another school year.

Fourth grade, Second grade and Preschool are powerful times.  Here's to all of the smiles, the tears, the laughs, the let-downs, the dreams, the disappointments and the vast amount of effort and pain that will go into making this year exactly what it's meant to be.

I'm so glad that I get to share in it with all of you.  Happy First Day of School!

Kindness in a Phone Call

The phone rang.

I was busy drying the dinner dishes and lamenting about how my knees ached from my hard five mile run this morning. 

According to my training plan, I should have run nine miles today.  I've been derailed for nearly three weeks with shin splints and am gradually getting back into it...struggling to build back up the mileage and the momentum that I lost along the way....and fearing that three weeks may not be enough time to get ready.

"Hello?," I said.

"I hope I'm not interrupting your dinner or evening with your family.  I was thinking about you and had to call.  I'm experiencing shin splints from the crazy amount of pounding on pavement today on my long walk (she works for a national non-profit) and I'm in pain.  I have no idea how you've been doing it.  But I wanted to let you know that I'm behind you.  You're not just running for you.  You're running for all of us."

After thanking her, I got off the phone and sobbed.

A stupid, dumb, 13.1 mile race.  Why has this become so important to me?  Enough to have me icing my legs four times a day.  Taking ibuprofen with each meal.  Reading everything I can get my hands on about form, cadence, shoes, injury remedies and running, in general. 

It's important, I think, because in some tangible way, it represents me.  The re-birthing of me.  Since I started this process, I've lost 22 pounds, gained strength, endurance, a lot of heart ache, and confidence.

The running I do is for me.  It's so that I can be a better wife, mother, daughter, sister, friend...so that I can feel me again.  The miles, the pain, the endorphins, the exhilaration, the hurt, the hope...it's mine.  And I want so bad to finish this first big race.

So thank you, friend for the phone call.  Thank you for actually picking up the phone, dialing my number, and saying the words.  You have no idea how much they mean.  Your call demonstrated how we should never underestimate the power of reaching out.  We need each other more than we know.

Hello 2012

I feel sort of "bah humbugish,"...but, some years I'm ready for Christmas to be done.

I guess it's more than Christmas, I'm ready for the new year.  I'm primed for rejuvenation, promise, and momentum.

2011 was a challenging year financially, physically, and emotionally for multiple reasons.  I think some years are like that.  It's important to sacrifice, to endure, to feel the pinch and to be stretched.  You need to know what you're capable of and to that end, I am grateful for the ways I grew particularly, when I didn't welcome it.

But for some reason, I have such hope for this new space that 2012 will bring.  I hold anticipation for a stronger me...a space that includes running, writing, coffee drinking, time spent with my husband, my girlfriends, and travel.

So down goes the tree, off come the ornaments, fireplace stockings are being traded for smart wool socks and outdoor running, the new calendar is going up with a training plan, and my first purchase of the year will be a Garmin to track my mileage, my pace, and my calories burned. 

Hello 2012...let's be good to each other.