So, I actually have a longish (maybe?) post that I want to do about the crazy that was my life last week. Honestly, I am not sure if it will be long. It might not be, but, in my heart — as I sit here right now in front of my computer — I feel it will be. Plus, the whole thing was a huge emotional drain because confrontation was involved. I hate confrontation. I am terrible at confrontation. Which is actually very funny, considering I worked as a lawyer, once upon a time. I realized just tonight that I was avoiding that whole post because of all the mental drama around it. In a day or so, I think I’ll be in a better place with it all, but I need time for the dust to settle. However, avoiding that post turned into avoiding my blog altogether, which means I am now totally off schedule for yet another week.
In the interest of forcing myself to keep this blog going — because I actually enjoy blogging and because it’s mentally unhealthy for me when I slink away into the darkness and ignore the stuff I enjoy — I thought a post full of random chatter might be fun. It might not be, though. I’m not making any promises here. I think I may try to find some rather random pictures to go along with it, too. I’ll see what’s hanging around on my Flickr account. So … buckle in for a long post of randomness!
So, clearly, Spring has sprung in my corner of the universe. I think I mentioned this (half a dozen times) in a previous post. I have a love/hate thing going on with Spring, as everyone knows. I’m currently loving all the different shades of green that appear in the springtime. I feel like I go through this every year. It’s like I’ve never really and truly seen “green” until Spring happens. I mean, I think I know what the color green looks like and what it means. I feel like I skate along for months and months, secure in the smugness that comes with understanding that there is a color out here that is called “green”.
And then … BOOM. Spring happens.
There’s always that one day, somewhere mid-way through the season, when it feels like I step out my front door to find the whole, entire world has turned green. There are so many shades and variations and hues of green. It amazes me. There are no words for it. Seriously, I’m sitting here, typing right this moment, and I have no words. None! I can’t even with the green. But I’m loving it. Seeing all those shades, from the newest, gentlest yellow-green all the way through to the deepest, darkest green of older leaves … I dunno. It does something to me. It makes me feel so happy inside. It makes me feel like everything in the world around me is all brand new and starting over, which, in turn, makes me believe my life can be brand new, too. Blue is my favorite color, but, if “hope” has a color, I think it’s green.
Speaking of my life, I was thinking today that I really need to pull back and evaluate things. I need to get my shizzle together. Lately, I’ve been feeling incredibly overwhelmed, discouraged, and scattered. I feel like, in spite of my numerous “to-do” lists and daily goals (none of which I seem to be accomplishing on any regular basis), my life is running me, instead of the other way around. Sometimes, I feel like my life is completely out of control and stalled-out in ways I never would have expected when I was younger. Or, even five years ago. I think I’ve fallen into some deep ruts, and I’m not exactly sure how to climb back out to get onto a smoother path.
I fell off the bandwagon for my exercise and diet during the holidays. (And I’m talking about Christmas, here — not Easter! Ugh.) I guess saying that isn’t exactly accurate. I never stopped exercising. I’m still doing that on a regular basis. But, before the holidays, I was managing to get a good work-out in on at least 6 days of the week. Now, I’m only doing it on 3 days. We had company for about a month at Christmas, which makes keeping to a regular schedule difficult. And I was sick during the holidays. I was sick again at the end of March and through the beginning of April. (Bronchitis for almost 3 weeks — so much not fun.) So … there are valid reasons for my schedule and exercise resolve taking a hit. I’m trying not to beat myself up over it. Everyone stumbles here and there. I know this. But … Yeah. I’ve been beating myself up over it. I may be my own worst enemy.
I’m having a lot of trouble getting back into my 6-day a week schedule. It has become so much easier for me to say to myself, “Hey, Self. We don’t really need to head out and exercise today. We went yesterday and the day before. We’ll go tomorrow, for sure. That makes 3 whole days this week. I think we’re good.” And my Self seems perfectly okay with that reasoning. She never tells me to get my happy butt moving. Instead, she just nods along and tells me to eat a cookie or some M&Ms.
That’s another thing: My eating has been in the pits since Christmas. I’m not eating total and complete trash, like I was before. But I am not being as careful as I know I should be. So, yeah … I need to figure out a way to get back on track. There may be more blog posts coming about this in the future.
My daughter has strep. I think all the stress from this past week did a number on her immune system. She tends to be a “streppy” kid, anyhow. Last year, she had strep 5 or 6 times. That was so not fun. But last year was a very, very stressful year for her. She was pretty miserable in school all year last year because she hated her teacher. “Hated” is too strong of a word. She “greatly disliked” her teacher. What’s even worse is that she felt like her teacher “greatly disliked” her right back. It was a pretty miserable year, overall. I have no scientific proof for this, but I think the stress of the year contributed to her getting sick several times.
Anyhow, she is sick again, poor kid. This is the second time so far this year that she has had strep. Considering how many times she had it last year, we might have to consider having her tonsils taken out. Two of her pediatricians have mentioned this to us within the past year. I know having your tonsils out is no big deal. I had mine taken out when I was 3 because I was sick all the time. Even so, it feels like a big deal when it’s your kid. So, there’s that. Also, I really don’t know when we will be able to do it. The summer would seem like an ideal time, but our entire summer is booked up already with a wedding on my husband’s side of the family, a visit to my parents, and a family vacation. The next big school break would be over the Christmas holidays next year, but there will be another wedding during that time. It’s not something I really need to be worrying about right now, but it’s humming around in the back of my mind. Plus, my mom reminds me of it whenever we talk on the phone. She calls me pretty much every day.
Also, my daughter broke her foot last year on the playground. This year, she broke THE OTHER foot. Her iPad fell off her bed and landed “just right” on her Lisfranc joint. This is a terrible injury, which takes forever to heal. Literally. The poor kid has been in a cast and/or boot since just after Christmas. I think the accident happened on her first day back to school after the holidays.
My mother is convinced my daughter has cancer or some other horrible thing wrong with her. She tells me this nearly every time we talk. She loves us all so much that she is terrified of something happening to us. But that kind of terror is hard to deal with when you’re on the receiving end. I reassure her that my daughter is perfectly normal. I am rational and calm on the phone. And then, I go to WebMD and frantically look up stuff about childhood cancer because the idea will not leave my head. Let me just tell you this: If you’re ever worried you have cancer … don’t ask Google. You will be sorry.
Last Friday, my daughter and I went to get our hair done. A couple of months ago, my daughter came to me and told me she wanted to dye her hair pink. This came as no surprise. Pink is her favorite color, after all. And several kids at her school sport non-traditional hair colors. She didn’t want it completely pink, though. She just wanted to do highlights around her face. I didn’t see anything wrong with it, so I gave her the green light, and it turned out super cute! It sounds weird to say it, but the pink actually looked very natural on her. It looked like she was born with pink hair.
Shortly before kiddo went pink, I had started adding blue into my own hair. Again, no huge surprise because blue is my favorite color. I’ve wanted blue hair for about forever. Seriously. Since my twenties. Back then, I couldn’t go for it because I was in a conservative profession, working in an even more conservative office. One time, I wore boots under a long skirt, and my boss gave me the stinky fish-eye look all day long. Blue hair would not have been a good idea.
At first, I started with small little peek-a-boo blues. They were hidden under the rest of my hair, so that only I could see them. They would show if I pulled my hair back, but, otherwise, my hair was its normal color. (Well, sort of normal. I’m a natural darkish blonde with red undertones, and I dye my hair black.) When my daughter and I went back this past Friday, I decided to get more blue in my hair. I wanted to do larger patches of color around my face, similar to what the kiddo had done with her pink, and I wanted to use a dark blue and a lighter blue, in addition to my usual black.
Sadly, it didn’t turn out like I had hoped. The darker blue is okay, but the lighter blue didn’t take to my hair for some reason. So it came out a sort of blue-green color instead of a true blue. I don’t hate it, but I was a bit disappointed in the final result. I’m going to wait for it to grow out some, and then I will try again with a different type of dye. Anyhow, during our phone call today, my mom asked how the hair appointment went this past Friday. I told her kiddo’s hair turned out nicely, but that mine didn’t take. And then had to explain to her that I had planned to get more blue in my hair, but that the dye didn’t turn out as expected.
To which my mom replied, “You’re putting blue in your hair? I don’t think I like that. I really just want you to be normal.”
Yep. Me, too, Mom. Me, too.