Hey Firewoman! You writing much? Why no, no I'm not. And yet when I'm in the car with the music turned way way up, I wish I was. I read a post today where a commenter asked the author if she maybe is addicted to intensity. She brought out that this "writer" needed to feel something as opposed to nothing and even if the something was a train taking her way off track, at least it was going somewhere. It struck a nerve.
I had a date night this weekend that went awry. Two passionate fiery rockets were one two many for our fast, but aging car to handle and we went our separate ways. I find in these moments when neither of us are willing to back down, mostly me, that it's best to cool off. We had the sitter already and there's no way I'm paying for nothing, so we stopped to get Layla and took off in different directions. I gave it some thought. I'm not good at asking for help, advice maybe, but even that in not so many words. I might send a text..."How ya doing?" or "What are you doing right now?" That's my cryptic way of saying I need you, got a minute to talk because my head is spinning with possibilities right now and I need to talk it out. That was where I was at.
I texted K. What was she doing and she was open to walking right there in the middle of a perfectly delectable evening. To waste this evening would have been a sin. And we walked and we shared and we weren't alone in our lightening storms that our closest relationships can bring. And we got trapped, a ten foot chain link fence surrounded our therapy session. She looked at me. We can jump this or we can go back. I'm not one that likes going backwards, not in life, not in walks. I was game, my upper body strength was not. I was stuck on top of this unstable at best hunk or metal straddling it and looking over the valley. Beauty and danger tied up in one hurt so good scary moment. I couldn't turn myself around and my tennis shoe was too big to fit in the rung behind me. She said, "I'll save you, firewoman." And she jumped the fence and helped me down the other side. Two less than frumpy thirty somethings living on the edge, one without that aforementioned upper body strength supporting each other. And by the time I dropped her off, I was ready for a take-two with the Tster.
I called him. He was in a movie, but that was good you see because it gave me time to long for him. For that guy with the affinity for rolling up his church shirt sleeves just below the elbow who commands a crowd on Sunday afternoon as easily as I breathe. We attempted to talk. Not so much. More time needed. Then we tried again. Third times a charm.
That's marriage to me. Sitting up on top of a ten foot fence. Your scared because you could really get hurt, but the view, what you've been through, where you're going together, but sometimes you feel like you're stuck...then the other person jumps over the fence when you can't and catches you before you fall and break all your bones.
Monday, September 10, 2012
Thursday, September 6, 2012
Day 251
I'm putting off going to bed. T got called to St. George last second to drop everything to go fire someone. I had this grand scheme in my head of all of us going, me surprising the kids with no school tomorrow and bags already in the car when they got home from school, heaven for a child. No such luck. This was a serious firing. No fun to be had and all plans for this evening changed.
So instead of the two of us going to a reception at the Thanksgiving Point gardens, it was me following friends with my own kids in tow and some of theirs. I found myself depressed. There was dancing and no one to dance with. I didn't feel comfortable just asking some guy to dance like I'm not a late thirty mommy, but Frank was crooning and people were swing dancing and I wasn't joining them. Finally, in desperation I picked up little C as she spooned chocolate cheesecake in her mouth and whirled her around the patio. It wasn't the same. But oh the wedding dress on the model bride found in Anaheim with the silver jeweled bodice was something out of a dream.
I signed C up for Lego league. Oh, I was in the right place at the right time. Only 7 spots. My life now so much more complicated, I can barely stand it. This isn't making things out of legos, though there is that. This is a huge community project with research and meetings and hours of work and engineering and programming and team building and all the things that will enhance his experience and there's scouts and soccer and piano and little C's music class and dance and this isn't what I wanted. I'm not one to put my kids in fifteen different things.
Draper temple. Incredible. I'm cheating on the Oquirrh Mt. this year while I spend afternoons in Draper. And I'm in love. Not only do they have handicapped access, but a man stands at the door and its his job to OPEN it for you. That's what he does. Everyone stands up to greet me. They ask me how I want to serve. I am putty in your hands, you delightful piece of heaven, you.
Little C doesn't like school. "They treat us like servants, mom. School is no place for me!" It's a rigorous environment. I knew it would be. I know she's a different child than C. Her new music class (deserves a post of its own) and her dance class light her up. She likes recess. She doesn't like classwork, feels like worksheets are a waste of her time. She wants to stay home with me, but doesn't want to be treated like a baby. I've talked about creating a different experience for her. It's late and I'm tired and I need to write this out and revisit it again. I don't see her caring that she's in Algebra and Latin like C or wanting to be in the top of her class like C and maybe this is a mistake having her there, but I can't send them two different places. Aackity aack aack aack. See what happens when T leaves unexpectedly??? I should be in bed and I'm not and it's drama, drama, drama.
So instead of the two of us going to a reception at the Thanksgiving Point gardens, it was me following friends with my own kids in tow and some of theirs. I found myself depressed. There was dancing and no one to dance with. I didn't feel comfortable just asking some guy to dance like I'm not a late thirty mommy, but Frank was crooning and people were swing dancing and I wasn't joining them. Finally, in desperation I picked up little C as she spooned chocolate cheesecake in her mouth and whirled her around the patio. It wasn't the same. But oh the wedding dress on the model bride found in Anaheim with the silver jeweled bodice was something out of a dream.
I signed C up for Lego league. Oh, I was in the right place at the right time. Only 7 spots. My life now so much more complicated, I can barely stand it. This isn't making things out of legos, though there is that. This is a huge community project with research and meetings and hours of work and engineering and programming and team building and all the things that will enhance his experience and there's scouts and soccer and piano and little C's music class and dance and this isn't what I wanted. I'm not one to put my kids in fifteen different things.
Draper temple. Incredible. I'm cheating on the Oquirrh Mt. this year while I spend afternoons in Draper. And I'm in love. Not only do they have handicapped access, but a man stands at the door and its his job to OPEN it for you. That's what he does. Everyone stands up to greet me. They ask me how I want to serve. I am putty in your hands, you delightful piece of heaven, you.
Little C doesn't like school. "They treat us like servants, mom. School is no place for me!" It's a rigorous environment. I knew it would be. I know she's a different child than C. Her new music class (deserves a post of its own) and her dance class light her up. She likes recess. She doesn't like classwork, feels like worksheets are a waste of her time. She wants to stay home with me, but doesn't want to be treated like a baby. I've talked about creating a different experience for her. It's late and I'm tired and I need to write this out and revisit it again. I don't see her caring that she's in Algebra and Latin like C or wanting to be in the top of her class like C and maybe this is a mistake having her there, but I can't send them two different places. Aackity aack aack aack. See what happens when T leaves unexpectedly??? I should be in bed and I'm not and it's drama, drama, drama.
Wednesday, September 5, 2012
Day 250
I wish the words inside my heart were alive and could do the work my body is too "human" to do.
It's official. I can't write what's inside me.
I take walks. Miracles happen. They happened today and I can't do it justice at this keyboard. Suffice it to say, this is what life's about. If we are willing, God will use us.
I'm so grateful for this gospel. On anxious days, I feel trapped in this little "bubble" and long to travel to far off places, but on days like these, I realize that my little neighborhood is an entire world and if I spent my entire life giving all I am to this family and to those around me, it's a full time mission. I can walk around my ward boundaries and the work to be done could last a lifetime.
I know its about balance and pacing myself, but wow.
It's official. I can't write what's inside me.
I take walks. Miracles happen. They happened today and I can't do it justice at this keyboard. Suffice it to say, this is what life's about. If we are willing, God will use us.
I'm so grateful for this gospel. On anxious days, I feel trapped in this little "bubble" and long to travel to far off places, but on days like these, I realize that my little neighborhood is an entire world and if I spent my entire life giving all I am to this family and to those around me, it's a full time mission. I can walk around my ward boundaries and the work to be done could last a lifetime.
I know its about balance and pacing myself, but wow.
Thursday, August 23, 2012
Day 249
The original day 249 was quite a doozy. Til I deleted it. I don't generally quit on a post in a place I have tried to consistently feel safe being exposed on. This was an exception. I've been ok this week and I mean ok in the best possible way. I've been competent. I've been capable. I've done what's needed to be done.
Why is this a novelty? For the same reason that I handed my car keys to T on our third date. I made him take the driver's seat. And I've leaned on him ever since. Granted, we didn't know what a free fall my health would take, but when did I hand over the things that scared me and when did driving scare me before that day? It didn't. I didn't ask him if he wanted the job and I didn't check in with myself and realize what the symbolism in that one act was the precursor of.
So the real deal is I don't want to be in charge, not because I don't want to be in charge, but because I don't want to be responsible. I don't feel comfortable with the buck stopping with me because I don't feel competent, capable or able to handle what needs to get done...and T does such a good job at sweeping the anxious crumbs of me under the rug and making the floor all shiny again.
So when he leaves on business the entire first week of the kids' school experience and life just inhales and exhales - I feel NOT anxious. No one was here to take it from me. Not T, not my mom (who had the job before T and to be truthful, created the 'spare the firewoman any travail at all costs' career) God blessed me, gave me peace and I couldn't hide away. There was no time to retract within myself or stare out the window at my own life and not be living it fully. And that is what really causes my anxiety.
It's that. It's me when I choose not to act, but to be acted upon. That is my truth. That is how my anxiety is handled. I'm not the saying the same goes for everyone, but when I don't just go do, it's always a problem. So this week has been the best week I've had in a really long time. I kept going, I kept breathing, I kept praying, and praying, I kept living. And this is how it feels. I like it.
Why is this a novelty? For the same reason that I handed my car keys to T on our third date. I made him take the driver's seat. And I've leaned on him ever since. Granted, we didn't know what a free fall my health would take, but when did I hand over the things that scared me and when did driving scare me before that day? It didn't. I didn't ask him if he wanted the job and I didn't check in with myself and realize what the symbolism in that one act was the precursor of.
So the real deal is I don't want to be in charge, not because I don't want to be in charge, but because I don't want to be responsible. I don't feel comfortable with the buck stopping with me because I don't feel competent, capable or able to handle what needs to get done...and T does such a good job at sweeping the anxious crumbs of me under the rug and making the floor all shiny again.
So when he leaves on business the entire first week of the kids' school experience and life just inhales and exhales - I feel NOT anxious. No one was here to take it from me. Not T, not my mom (who had the job before T and to be truthful, created the 'spare the firewoman any travail at all costs' career) God blessed me, gave me peace and I couldn't hide away. There was no time to retract within myself or stare out the window at my own life and not be living it fully. And that is what really causes my anxiety.
It's that. It's me when I choose not to act, but to be acted upon. That is my truth. That is how my anxiety is handled. I'm not the saying the same goes for everyone, but when I don't just go do, it's always a problem. So this week has been the best week I've had in a really long time. I kept going, I kept breathing, I kept praying, and praying, I kept living. And this is how it feels. I like it.
Monday, July 23, 2012
Day 248
I'm waiting for Josh, my enrollment counselor, to call me back. Almost all of my AA degree from a bajillion years ago transferred over to the U or Phoenix. Yes, you heard me right. Lo and behold, they now offer a BA in English. What the what?????????? And they are SIGNIFICANTLY cheaper than the U and all the classes are online which is a lot easier than all the other universities around where the closest satellite office is either in Tooele for English or having to hightail it to a campus far away.
It will take me about 2 1/2 years to get the BA and then at that point I either take a couple religion classes and try my hand at the lottery that is seminary or else I begin my Masters' program in secondary education. Regardless of what happens, my grammar should improve. And that's a bonus for taking the first step towards one's dreams...hmmm???
Here I go into the dark. The story of my life.
It will take me about 2 1/2 years to get the BA and then at that point I either take a couple religion classes and try my hand at the lottery that is seminary or else I begin my Masters' program in secondary education. Regardless of what happens, my grammar should improve. And that's a bonus for taking the first step towards one's dreams...hmmm???
Here I go into the dark. The story of my life.
Monday, July 16, 2012
Day 247
I talked it over with T last night. We hashed out ideas and brought to the surface things I already know. I know I'm supposed to teach. It says it not 1,2,3, but 4 times in my Patriarchal blessing. Hmmm...I wonder if I'm supposed to teach-haha. I already know that I want to teach teenagers and how many people actually want to do that? I looked into taking classes at the U and it will cost me $40,000 to just experience my junior and senior there and come out with an English degree. I already have my AA degree and it still will cost a small fortune just to finish my BA. I could get a teaching grant, but then I belong to the federal govt for four years after I graduate and have to work for at risk situations full time and that just seems like servitude to me.
Here's a wild idea. I would love love love to teach seminary. Now in any other state that would just be an early morning calling I would have. Here it even says on the website that due to the extremely high level of interest in candidates here to please pick a plan b. I'm still going to go for it. That feels really right to me. I will need to take a couple classes at the U (waiting for little C to be in first grade of course) then do a whole bunch of student teaching, and then hope that they will pick me out of hundreds of candidates. I feel like if its meant to be it will be. And meanwhile I write. My maid of honor T and I are throwing a chapter out back and forth of our life stories and its kicking my butt in gear to not only write, but to get into my own head at different points of my life and gain some clarity as well and that can only be a good thing particularly as I look forward to my destiny.
I dusted off Curly and I think about her all the time. I seriously love the story. I wasn't ready to write on her for the longest time, but maybe I am now. Now that is a story that has my heart laid bare on a page. In all its innocent gory detail. It's why writing is magic. Its a form of expression wherein we communicate with ourselves, and yet the characters aren't really us, they're all the life experience we've picked up and carried in our pockets all these years and finally able to give voice to. And boy, they want to talk. We can either listen to them or pretend they're not there and it will only torture us in the end.
Thanks A for all your lovely support.
Here's a wild idea. I would love love love to teach seminary. Now in any other state that would just be an early morning calling I would have. Here it even says on the website that due to the extremely high level of interest in candidates here to please pick a plan b. I'm still going to go for it. That feels really right to me. I will need to take a couple classes at the U (waiting for little C to be in first grade of course) then do a whole bunch of student teaching, and then hope that they will pick me out of hundreds of candidates. I feel like if its meant to be it will be. And meanwhile I write. My maid of honor T and I are throwing a chapter out back and forth of our life stories and its kicking my butt in gear to not only write, but to get into my own head at different points of my life and gain some clarity as well and that can only be a good thing particularly as I look forward to my destiny.
I dusted off Curly and I think about her all the time. I seriously love the story. I wasn't ready to write on her for the longest time, but maybe I am now. Now that is a story that has my heart laid bare on a page. In all its innocent gory detail. It's why writing is magic. Its a form of expression wherein we communicate with ourselves, and yet the characters aren't really us, they're all the life experience we've picked up and carried in our pockets all these years and finally able to give voice to. And boy, they want to talk. We can either listen to them or pretend they're not there and it will only torture us in the end.
Thanks A for all your lovely support.
Saturday, July 14, 2012
Day 246
I'm bored. I feel trapped, antsy in my own life. I hold back every day. I try to be gentle and I'm not gentle. I'm a lot of things, but I'm not that. I'm tired of sitting in meetings and being serene. I don't know. I need a project. I need to feel needed, essential. I want to leave it all and go on a mission. I'm serious, too. I feel like I'm drowning in suburbia. Excitement and me are nil right now.
I listen to Angels and Airwaves where a few weeks ago I was listening to classical music. I feel like I've overcome great odds with this body of mine and I can't just stop. I can't sit still. I've done that too much. I feel like running until I burst. I feel like taking on the world. I did that more before I got sick. I held down a bunch of jobs and projects and then I crashed. Well, now I've sat around and I've tried to drip, drip, drip and you know what? I detest dripping. I loathe dripping. I have ADD and dripping is like dropping me in a hole and leaving me there.
I know I need to embrace where I am in life right now. I'm sad because I really wanted to go to Girls Camp this last week. I did everything but drive down there and push myself into the camp. I tried, but it just didn't work out and I know this isn't true,but I just didn't feel needed and it kills me. The honest truth is, it kills me because I love those girls and I feel like I can make a difference. And I feel like everyone who wanted to go and even those who probably didn't want to go did and I sat at home. And I would have felt that energy burn through me and I would have felt needed and I don't feel like I'm doing much. Oh, I know I know I am and the places where I am and the people who need me. I've just been too quiet and the lack of noise is popping my eardrums.
I inherited some money from my grandfather. I could put it on debt from when T lost his job. I know that's the responsible thing to do or I could get on a plane and fly to New York. I could get on a plane and fly to the beach. I could get online and sign up for classes at the U. I could sign up for any classes I want to actually. Here's the thing though: I can't. I can't yet. I'm so torn. Gotta enjoy every second that my youngest is here with me and knowing it will come soon enough when she's not and I will be and am sad about that. On the other hand, my oldest is gone all the time mowing lawns, going to camps and classes or out with friends. My youngest is following suit pretty quickly and I feel like am I making a huge difference anyway?
I feel like all I do is nag and all I want to do is hang out with them. My dad offered to pay for classes for me to become a Pilates' instructor. Cool, huh? Yah, except I don't have the patience to teach someone else how to do this. I'm not gentle-serene remember? I can barely slow down enough and relax when I take a class let alone teach one. Secretly that frustrates me because what a perfect opportunity. I just don't communicate well enough. Now if I could write down the instructions and hold up cue cards for the class members to follow then we're in business.
So if talk about jumping out of airplanes or driving 100 mph on deserted highways you'll know I'm craving something I'm still looking for.
I listen to Angels and Airwaves where a few weeks ago I was listening to classical music. I feel like I've overcome great odds with this body of mine and I can't just stop. I can't sit still. I've done that too much. I feel like running until I burst. I feel like taking on the world. I did that more before I got sick. I held down a bunch of jobs and projects and then I crashed. Well, now I've sat around and I've tried to drip, drip, drip and you know what? I detest dripping. I loathe dripping. I have ADD and dripping is like dropping me in a hole and leaving me there.
I know I need to embrace where I am in life right now. I'm sad because I really wanted to go to Girls Camp this last week. I did everything but drive down there and push myself into the camp. I tried, but it just didn't work out and I know this isn't true,but I just didn't feel needed and it kills me. The honest truth is, it kills me because I love those girls and I feel like I can make a difference. And I feel like everyone who wanted to go and even those who probably didn't want to go did and I sat at home. And I would have felt that energy burn through me and I would have felt needed and I don't feel like I'm doing much. Oh, I know I know I am and the places where I am and the people who need me. I've just been too quiet and the lack of noise is popping my eardrums.
I inherited some money from my grandfather. I could put it on debt from when T lost his job. I know that's the responsible thing to do or I could get on a plane and fly to New York. I could get on a plane and fly to the beach. I could get online and sign up for classes at the U. I could sign up for any classes I want to actually. Here's the thing though: I can't. I can't yet. I'm so torn. Gotta enjoy every second that my youngest is here with me and knowing it will come soon enough when she's not and I will be and am sad about that. On the other hand, my oldest is gone all the time mowing lawns, going to camps and classes or out with friends. My youngest is following suit pretty quickly and I feel like am I making a huge difference anyway?
I feel like all I do is nag and all I want to do is hang out with them. My dad offered to pay for classes for me to become a Pilates' instructor. Cool, huh? Yah, except I don't have the patience to teach someone else how to do this. I'm not gentle-serene remember? I can barely slow down enough and relax when I take a class let alone teach one. Secretly that frustrates me because what a perfect opportunity. I just don't communicate well enough. Now if I could write down the instructions and hold up cue cards for the class members to follow then we're in business.
So if talk about jumping out of airplanes or driving 100 mph on deserted highways you'll know I'm craving something I'm still looking for.
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