Bragging a Little and I’m Really Glad I Got Off The Sofa
September 13, 2012
I have to tell you, (I have to tell everyone, if I could afford to place huge ad in all media outlets, I would,) after 12 years, 2 babies, way too much time on the sofa nibbling on snacks starring cheese, often accompanied by silly cocktails and/or too much wine, I think for a while, I just too much time, I am back on track. I got offf of the sofa, went back to the gym, and tonight, I discovered I can slide into my size 9 cocktail dress. I can do this without laying down on the floor and inhaling so deep that my belly hits my large intestine. There was no jumping up and down while clutching the zipper and cursing God, or fasting for 48 hours.
I slid into that dress like my skin was covered with that slime scuba divers wear when they have to put on one of those awful neoprin suites. Except my dress is looser than one of those neoprin suits. A little.
Sophie prays
September 11, 2012
Dear Lord, Please make the cats play with me. And while you’re at it, maybe Julie could loan me one of her socks for a nice game of tug of war instead of wasting early morning nap time on waving a camera around and asking me to smile. Maybe you could remind Julie I’m a dog. Dogs don’t smile, we wag, sometimes we grin. But we don’t smile on cue for stupid cameras. More games, less photos. Maybe an extra meal sometimes. Got it?
Saturday Night Guilt, or Where is Alec Now That I Realized I Need Him?
September 9, 2012
It’s Saturday night, late. We’ve had a long day and Sophie sits at my feet right now, begging me with her eyes to head down the stairs, and slip between sheets. She knows it’s late, she can tell by the way that I sit here, at my desk, shoulders slouched, eyelids heavy, I really shouldn’t attempt this right now.
It might not go well, I might make a mistake, make a bad judgement or go for an easy out that I would regret in the morning, just to get this over with quick. But I made a promise to my mom, and a person should honor a promise made to her mom.
Thank God it’s Thursday, or, Hugging the House
September 7, 2012
Tonight, when I pulled in the driveway I had an overwhelming urge to hug my house. The whole house, the dust balls, and old bird, the crazy puppy and the weary sofas, the two short people that I knew would come spilling out the door any minute, (or not, depending on whether the dragon movie was near the end,) the stairs that collect dust more intensely and successfully than i’ve ever collected anything in my life, the bathrooms that need washers and washing, I wanted to hug the whole package.
And so I am. And anybody that stumbles on these words. I’m hugging you too. Thank God it’s Thursday.
A Very Long Day, The Basics Recorded, Please Fill in Details As Needed.
September 6, 2012
6 am wake son
7 am wake daughter
715 am wake daughter again
750 am drop daughter at school bus
800 am yoga
900 am shower
940 am first class this semester, physical evaluations and assessments
1100 am second class this semester, strength training and endurance
1 pm third class… Anatomy and Physiology, the human body will never look the same now that I’ve seen it in quadrants.
255 pm run to car so that I may
300 pm pick up daughter
330 pm go to store
430 pm pick up friend’s daughter
500 pm cook dinner
530 pm eat dinner
535 pm clean up after dinner
540 pm start conversation with kids about why they should help me clean up after dinner.
542 pm kids remember homework they have to do right away…
Etc. Etc. Etc.
It was a long, long day, and I wanted to record it all for posterity, but I’m too damn tired. So if you would like to fill in the blanks and imagine the details- the funny and/or insightful comments I made, or just how great my hair looked, go for it.
If you’re a realist, I usually have lipstick on my teeth.
Growing Pains, with a Little Middle Aged Angst on the Side and A Plan for One Late Night to Make Everything Better
September 4, 2012
Life for the next month or three is going to be nuts. I have got homework and labs and each weekday begins with the quest for impossible parking. I have an NCAA player in the making, and an Olympics contender on the verge- in the midst of my stuff my athletes need to be ferried to and from practices and competitions and fed something other than last night’s pizza.
There is my homework, their homework, playdates and hangouts, and the constant challenge of keeping them in appropriate footwear that fits. And I can’t forget the new kitten, the not so new puppy, the cats and the turtle and the dead bird in the shed, ( I have to find Whitey an everlasting home where Sophie won’t rip him to shreds.)
I have a lot on my plate, hell, I have a lot on my casserole dish that is roughly the size of Portland.
So as I move through these days coming ahead, I will plan for the moments just after.
When it’s done, when grades are in, championships won or lost, animals buried or tossed, living animals getting along or banished to individual rooms, doctors seen, paperwork done, I am going to find me a night on the town.
I don’t want to do shots. I could care less about scintillating conversation. I don’t need to dress up or eat morsels of strange food at ridiculous prices.
I want to go to club where I’ve never been. I want to sip a cold drink, take my time. I want to be asked by a gentleman, who, when he asks will act like he isn’t sure of my answer, for a dance. I will say yes. When I take his hand, the band will start playing just the right song. (I don’t know what the right song will be but it will be Just. The. Right. Song.) And we will slow dance round that floor like we have all of the time in the world. And we will.
Guilty Pleasures
September 3, 2012
Just after the kids finally sleep, there is that moment I realize I will not hear “mom, can you shut out my light, “, “don’t forget to wake me up 15 minutes early,” “what was that, you are watching tv without us?!”. When the stillness settles around me, I begin my life without them. And yet they are there, in those moments just after. I listen for footsteps, or doors, I don’t want to get caught by my kids doing what I do in the hours I have sent them to sleep.
After turning the volume way down, I stumble around on the internet. If the phone rings, I answer it like I’m asleep. When I snack, I wash out the bowl and wipe counters.
Being online, or reading a novel or sipping tea at 11:05 feels like a forbidden pleasure.
Before I had kids, I had to work so much harder for that sense- this is bad, therefore it must be-feel-taste really good. Now, all I have to is be awake after they sleep and watch something HBO.
I’m such a dangerous girl.
Things I Need to Do Before They Return To School Tomorrow
August 28, 2012
List of What I Need to do Before Kids Go Back to School Tomorrow
Everything
List of What I Will Actually Do to Help My Kids Get Ready to Go Back to School Tomorrow
I will wake them up an hour before school starts, and explain to them, while I pour whatever cereal is least stale into a bowl, that nobody brings their backpacks, or their pencils, or their calculators, or their crayons or their summer reading assignments to the first day of school. They won’t believe me. I will then point out that I did buy chocolate cookies for their snack, and that 4 of them are left from when I watched that movie the night before. They will be a little pissed but take the cookies.
They will come home from school and tell me that EVERYONE was better prepared than they were. I will apologize and take them shopping and backpacks and pencils and calculators will all be on sale, incredibly cheap. We will use the savings to buy a summer house.
The End.
Pledge, Though I Can’t Promise the Weather will Cooperate
August 28, 2012
Tomorrow, I’m taking the gang to the beach. We are going to pack a cooler with fried chicken from Shaws and a big thermos of lemonade. We are going to remember the frisbee and the football and the boogie boards. On the way I am going to sing along to hip hop and 80’s music until the kids cry for mercy, and/or promise to clear the table for the rest of the time they live at home.
When we get there we will find parking. The tide won’t be too high or too low. The water temperature will be cool enough to refresh, but not cold enough to hurt my toes. Tomorrow, I am going to make a day feel like a week, but it will end when I blink my eyes. I will take plenty of pictures. I will remember every single second forever.
And I promise I won’t hide under the beach umbrella posting whatever cute thing someone said on Facebook. I wo’t need to. I will remember every single second forever.
Mountain Lakes Memories and Growing Up Away From Home
August 28, 2012
My first memories of Mountain Lakes are golden, they are colored by that magical belief that my parents could solve every problem in the world. I remember The Club, and egg throwing and the fishing contest at Birchwood. I remember Hap, the king and dictator of The Club, and musicals and baiting my hook, or having my Dad do it for me.
I was so lucky. We were so lucky. To have all those moments of utter confidence that the world was kind, that Easter was about catching a hardboiled egg, and that someone would always be there to help with the nasty business of fishing.
At a point, it turned. Dad got sick, I grew up, the fish stopped biting, the eggs stopped flying, I don’t know the exact moment. I trace my steps, we trace our steps, here, or while we try to sleep, or search for the right words for a eulogy, or a christening.
It turned for everyone, the things we remember are not the things that exist these days.
These days are different. Let us celebrate them, what is to come, and what is past.
julierichmond 