After 96 years of being her delightful self, my Grambie passed away on Saturday. I had the chance to say goodbye over the phone, though she wasn’t responsive. It was her time, no doubt about it, but despite all the mental prep it hit hard. I leave in the morning to go celebrate and remember her with my family, and I’m looking forward to spending time with them despite the reason.Read More
Eugene, my neighbor of 9 years, turned 92 last week. He’s the oldest of the old-timers around here, and I’m sad to say I didn’t really meet him until about 18 months ago. You see, he’s lived in the house next door for over 70 years, and in this neighborhood his entire life, and he’s not forgotten a thing. I can’t really think about the 7 years I didn’t know him, and just enjoy every minute I get to sit on his porch and listen to his stories. He has no end of them, that’s for sure.
Mother’s Day is over, I hope yours was a good one? The highlight of mine was my boys making me both breakfast and dinner, which I thoroughly enjoyed. A brief nap in the sun in the backyard was also delightful!
I know the day can be fraught with many things, if you’ve lost your own mom or a child, or long for kids, or whatever your burden may be, I hope there was joy in it somewhere. In thinking about all that I got to wondering what your relationship with your own mom is, or what did it used to be? I know it’s likely to run the gamut, and changes over time, but I’m really curious. Best friends and first person you call? Brief contact? None at all?
Dish washing is a chore in our house which technically falls to whoever didn’t make dinner, but in reality it’s usually whoever doesn’t put the kids to bed. I make dinner, he puts the kids to bed, and at least half the time I wash the pile while he tackles the kids and wrestles them into bed. Somehow over the years though it’s evolved into a wee competition. Not the washing part (he does it more thoroughly, no question, but I get it done faster) but the stacking part.
I read a SteadyMom post a couple weeks ago and the simple point was that her goal for each day was peace. Simply peace. It was more important than accomplishing lots of things, or making fancy meals, she wanted the motive behind the day’s choices to be a desire for peace.
To be honest, I first sniffed at it a bit because I thought about all the reasons why that’s not possible.
At the beginning of our trip, the boys and I were invited over to an old friend’s house for dinner. By old I mean we’ve all known each other since we were kids, and the stories are simply endless. Between us we have 5 kids, and they all get along well so the adults actually had time to talk without interruption! Reflecting on the trip, I realized that it’s been rather a long time since we’ve had people over, other than for a party.
I don’t love you because …
… you still reach for my hand every time we walk out of the gate
… you held my hair back every time i puked, and never lost your patience
… you tell me i can do anything i set my mind to, and believe it with all your heart
… you buy me amazingly perfect gifts, over and over again
… you never stop prying apart my armor, making sure my heart is still beating inside
… you taught me the meaning of fierce
Thanks to a longtime reader/friend for this one! I’ve had it in the forums for ages, but it never got much attention. How about it ladies …
How has your sex drive survived (or not) after kids? After your last few weeks of questions about not sleeping, trying to do too much, etc, I wonder how our relationship with our spouse figures in. Does it fall in somewhere after you drag yourself to bed, drag yourself up in the morning, travel across town again and again for school, play dates, classes, parks, groceries, laundry, etc? Is it still a priority? Do you still feel that spark, and if you do, do you have the energy to respond to it? Is it even possible to feel sexy at least some of the time? Or has all that been put on hold until some mythical time when we get to feel like real women again?
Thanks for the question, what say you all?
It’s been a scattered week, but aren’t they all? Recovering from my run was surprisingly less painful than expected, but I took it really easy anyhow. No big outings, just puttering around the house and giving the boys a lighter-than-usual workload.
I’ve been warily eyeing that monster called depression, who I expected to come bounding around the corner the minute the marathon was over, but so far we haven’t met in close quarters. I saw him in the distance once. This is good, though it makes me a bit afraid that I’m going to get blindsided. One day at a time. Chocolate helps, and I’ve been making steady inroads into the stashes hidden around the house :).
I had one major sad note this week though, and that was to find that one of my original Rotten Kids passed away on Monday.
I grew up in a family that ate together, prayed together, and often worked together, so almost all our communication was in person. It happened in the car, around the dinner table, or at the kitchen counter. I honestly don’t remember my mom ever raising her voice either. The subjects were rarely heavy, and hardly ever confrontational. Unpleasant or difficult conversations were rare … they just didn’t happen. Once I was a teenager, I would very occasionally get a note left on my desk that explained how my mom felt about some of my choices, referring of course to the things she didn’t like. So there was a lot of conversation, and basic communication, but rarely on an emotional level.
My house is NOT like this.