Life doesn't need to be a production...

Favorite son Conor came home last night from college. He had played in his last basketball game of the season and was feeling "free" now that it had come to a close. I, however, was feeling wonderful because he decided to come home.

I can remember when I first got divorced. I used to think that time spent with the kids needed to be a "production"; that I needed to be sure they were entertained etc. I would run myself ragged physically, emotionally and financially to be sure that on "my weekends" things were fabulous. It seemed that things were so BUSY that we never got down time to just be.

The gift that has come with age (both mine and my kids) is that I now realize it isnt about the "production" but is instead about time spent together. This became very clear when Conor and I headed to Vegas for a friend's wedding. Never feeling flush where finances are concerned, I decided we would drive. Conor had just graduated from high school and would be leaving for college at the end of the summer so I figured a road trip was in order. Now, driving from Kansas to Vegas seemed to be a daunting task. Yet, even in the dead of night after driving for hours and hours, we were still having a blast. We did crossword puzzles, listened to books on tape, laughed over the freaks we encountered in gas stations at 3 a.m. and talked, talked, talked. That windshield time was such a gift for me as a mom. In fact, we both agreed that the car time was the best part of the trip.

I have learned to treasure those times with my kids. Case in point was last night ---A simple conversation about life and school over dinner, and a movie on the couch (that I actually stayed awake for)...simple, and yet time that fills my heart.

In for a penny....

Well, I finally made a decision. After two weeks of playing around with color and making a mess of my living room, I finally picked the colors that will soon be on my walls...and I am too scared to start painting.

First let me say I am NOT afraid of color. If anything I have always been rather adventuresome when it comes to dark colors. This project, however, has me stymied. My inspiration picture is here from http://www.how-to-faux-finish.com/...

I LOVE the leather technique they used! So, I read through the website, and started my hunt for paint. I had several EPIC FAILS as seen here...

See the green? That's what I will be covering up. Again, not afraid of color and the green was fabulous in its day. Anyway, I hated all the samples I did. I couldnt seem to figure out what I wanted to do, stippling, sponging, washing...ahh! So one day last week I simply walked into my local Home Despot and went for it. This is what I purchased....

The yellow gives me a headache when I look in the can. I can only imagine what it will look like on the wall.

Oh well, time to dive in. It's only paint. And time. And money. (the headache is back) :-)

Happy VD

Um....right. I received this message together with hearts etc. from one of my 8th graders. While well intentioned, I don't think I will be celebrating venereal disease any time soon. To quote Seinfeld, "not that there's anything wrong with that".

Just so you know:

8th graders + Valentine's Day + hormones= Chaos.

Not to mention the ladies on the warpath because they didn't receive any gifts from their clueless 8th grade loves. My advice to said gentlemen today? Duck and cover.

Heartache

I can remember hearing the word "heartache" as a kid. I thought it meant your heart literally hurt, like a stomach ache only higher. As I've grown into an adult, I have been lucky enough to have few moments of heartache, but have also learned that once you experience it there is no mistaking what it is.

The first time I can truly recall heartache was the day I filed for divorce. It wasn't an ache of fear or doubt, but one of grieving for a relationship that "should have been" - one that two people couldn't or didn't want to make work. Quite honestly, it was also the ache of failure. I could not believe that I was in that situation, and was heartsick about what my decision might do to my kids. Prayer, although a constant in my life, became even more important to me.

The next time was years later in an ICU waiting room. It's amazing how the feelings of utter despair can grab your heart and not let go. My aunt had, for more than three days, been bleeding into her brain. I discovered this upon a visit to check on her after what she called "a tiny little stroke that was taken care of through my femoral artery...no big deal." I was planning on a mini weekend visit just to be sure her "no biggie" and mine had the same definition. Through fault I place on multiple doctors with no communication, she had been taking three blood thinners - after the removal of a blood clot in her brain. That caused the brain bleed that led to an ambulance call and immediate surgery. So I found myself alone, in a waiting room, with the woman who'd been my mentor and surrogate mother for my whole life down the hall fighting for her's. Steeped in memories and fear for her future, I can remember praying like I've never prayed before.

I find myself in a heartache situation again, only this time it isn't a family member or my own situation that is at the source of the pain. I have an 8th grade student, A. He was diagnosed with cancer last year as a 7th grader and had to undergo multiple surgeries, the removal of a bone from his leg, and several rounds of chemo. I had heard about him - knew the 7th grade was doing fundraising etc. to help him through his difficult health crisis, but I didn't know A, himself. That changed in August of this year. I picked him out right away of course. He was the bald kid in the wheelchair with a huge group of friends gathered around him wherever he went. That was what I saw...what I came to know was that A is a kid who seems to light up the room when he is in it. His friends flock around him like bees to honey, not only because they are protective etc. but because he is a genuinely good person. He makes others laugh, has a great sense of humor and has remained amazingly positive through his entire ordeal. The one thing he hates is to miss school. One moment will forever be frozen in my mind where A is concerned. He was feeling ill one day and was refusing to call his parents to come pick him up. I finally talked with him privately and the look in his eyes when he tearfully told me he just wanted to be normal and go to school like everyone else crushed me. I am surrounded by kids all day, every day during the school year who don't want to be there...A, given all his problems just wanted to stay. What a kid. He wrote a paper for me recently about his cancer. In it he described the hospitals he's stayed in, the friends who have supported him and his decision to shave his head (his biggest hiccup during the beginning phases of chemo) before nature took its course. I was amazed at his positive attitude and perseverance. Not many adults I know would act the same way. Yesterday, A was told his cancer is back and is now in both lungs. It was a crushing blow to him, his family and his many friends. Here is a kid who has fought so hard and so long to reach the end of this disease only to be told he has six months to live. My heart aches for him. My prayers have centered on A and his family and friends. Only God knows what's in store for him.

I feel blessed to have had him as part of my classroom; my life. It seems in this case, the student did more teaching than the teacher did.

Closets and Memories

That coat closet on my should do list is now pristine. In addition, I found a box of pictures I thought was long gone and had a wonderful hour or two strolling down memory lane. What a blessing a simple chore that had been put off for so long brought.

While I truly enjoyed the closet, I feel like what's under the fridge is a totally different story.

I think I'm a little ADD

And I'm not even joking. There has been no formal diagnosis, just an epiphany on my part of late. See, I tend to be terrific at planning projects and adding to my "to do" list. Actually, I even have a "should do" list that is lurking in the background with a full supply of guilt over the things I don't want to face like dusting under the refrigerator and cleaning out the coat closet. AHHHH!

My "to do" list is full of beautiful, magical, creative things that would make Martha Stewart proud. Want to make a video of pictures for an upcoming birthday/anniversary/graduation? I'm full of ideas! Have a hankering to try a new painting technique or refinish hardwood floors? I'm all over it! Want to take on various craft projects for favorite daughter Brig, whose "wants" outweigh her motivation to help? Sure! Committed to blogging in 2011? Heck yeah! Want to get up every morning at 4:50 to "finally get on a regular work-out routine with P90X? Abso-freaking-lutely! Again, I am great at the idea and planning thing...it's in the follow through that things fall apart.

Add to the above the things everyone in the world struggles with; work (those papers wont grade themselves), grocery shopping, walking dogs, paying bills, reading the stack of books and magazines I have accumulated, multiple email accounts, a full Yahoo Reader with items I felt I HAD to keep up on, phone calls to family, facebook, and a DVR about to explode with hunky crime scene detectives and and characters who aren't so young and restless anymore...I'm overwhelmed just thinking about it all.

So, where to go from here....that is the question that I have been pondering of late. All of the things listed above are things that I truly want to do. And honestly, all of them will get done. Some will be done lovingly with the time and attention they deserve, while others will be in sort of a I've-procrastinated-as-long-as-I-can-and-now-I-resent-the-whole-thing sort of way. The problem I seem to be having is balance.

There, of course, is a plethora of advice out there about how to live a balanced life. Recommendations that I take "helicopter view" of my life, so that I can bring things back into balance only left me feeling like I was the maddeningly hard to find Waldo amidst the swarming scenes that make up my days. Another site told me to focus on doing one thing at a time. If I could do that, I would NOT be a female. My multitasking is the only thing keeping a roof over our heads, the teenager fed and the animals alive. Good grief. The advice to "clean up my surroundings" was really helpful. It helped me stress because things might be too cluttered and that clutter might lead to stress. Yowza...

Finally, I hit upon one that seems to work for me. "Have a mantra." I liked these:

- Look for the second right answer.
- Question everything, but don't forget to listen to the answers.
- Being sarcastic and bitchy is part of my mystique.
- Stop overestimating others and underestimating yourself.
- Perfection isn't an option.
- Think prosperously!

and of course, one of my favorites....Bigger snacks means bigger slacks. Such wisdom, right? =]

I will continue to ponder which suits me, or I will fashion one that is uniquely my own. In addition, I will strive to calm the chaos that comes with life and simply stop and enjoy - smell the roses, if you will. I guess that's ultimately what life's about anyway.

Hey, maybe that tired "smell the roses" cliche should be my mantra....