Do I have a bunch of other things I should be doing? Of course. If I wanted to do them, though, don't you think I would have started on them by now? Sheesh. Summer is my time to procrastinate horribly on all things not lazy and summery.
Now that we have that out of the way, I have to tell you why this is the hardest summer, ever!
No, really.
Summers had been my time to play with my kids. We hung out at the pool, or the lake, or the water park (notice the water related theme?), we watched movies, or we wandered around town looking for fun stuff to do. We'd flood the backyard and paddle around in it, then watch the dragonflies dance across the makeshift pond. When they were little, they'd have sleep outs in the tree house up in the cherry tree. Later, the backyard campouts moved down to a tent in the yard when they got too big for the tree house. Their friends came over and we had late night bonfires, roasting hot dogs and s'mores while lazily listening to the crickets and the train whistle in the distance while counting stars. Sweet summertime teen romances flared up only to die down with the start of a new school year.
My summer was full of my kids.
Not so much, anymore.
Helena works full time. Her boyfriend has relocated to Oregon, so when she's not at work, she's Skyping him. That is how it should be. When she has a day off, we spend it together, so I'm not totally alone, but her days off are few and far between. It's not the same as when we all had summer vacation together. She has grown up.
Will is gone. We write letters. He writes letters. I had NO IDEA how difficult this would be for me. I think about him constantly. Correction, I worry about him constantly! He is doing something so difficult, only made worse by the disgusting heat he has to do it in! I can't fall asleep at night for worrying about him. I wake up early worrying about him. If I could siphon off some of my energy and willpower and send it to him, I would in a heartbeat.
I thought I was prepared for this. After all, I was an Army Sister, and a Navy Sister-in-Law. And I was a Marines Step-Mom. And I did worry about my brothers and my step son. But not like this! I can't decide if it is just because he is my youngest, or if it is because we share a special bond that is rare for a teen son and his Mom. All I know is that I pray for him almost constantly. I watch the news with extra concern. It feels like the world is imploding and I want to keep my son safe, but I can't because he is a soldier and that is what he chose.
I have always been a worrier, anyways. I used to worry about the kids walking home from Elementary School. I worried when they got their driver's license. I worried when they went on their first dates. I worry whenever they have to face something new.
It is amazing I don't have a stomach full of ulcer holes, actually.
So, I wish I could go back in time and relive those summers past.
If you are in the thick of a child filled summer, CHERISH IT! It will not come again! Play with them! Swim with them! Forget about the chores! Who cares about the house!
Go!
Do stuff WITH the kids!
Make memories and savor every moment.
Letters in the Mail
It has been nearly 3 weeks since Will left for Basic Training.
It feels like forever. It feels like he just left yesterday.
Time is weird.
On the day that he left, I kept my phone in my hand the entire afternoon and evening. I knew his plane took off around 1:00ish, so I started being phone crazy around 3. At 4:45, he sent me a text to let me know their plane had landed in Oklahoma. That was bonus communication no. 1.
My friend, Michelle, invited me out to get a treat that evening, but I asked her for a raincheck, because I was so paranoid I'd miss the official one-and-only phone call from my boy.
He called at 10:00 that night. But, it wasn't the official phone call. It was bonus communication no. 2! It was 11 pm for him, and the recruits were all sent to bed without doing the shake-down. So, he was able to call me and actually TALK about how things were going for him. Oh, that made me so happy!!! He couldn't talk for long, because it was 11 pm and they had to get up at 4 am. He did say he spent most of the evening lining up in various places and "getting yelled at a lot". He sounded happy.
The official phone call came at 3:30 our time the following morning. At 4:30 for him, the Drill Sergeants stood over all the recruits and listened to them as they recited a canned speech about arriving safely and surrendering their phones, I love you and goodbye. And, that was it. I could hear many other voices in the background saying the same thing into their phones as Will was saying it to me.
I just said "I love you, I love you, I love you" over and over just before he hung up.
And, that was it.
On July 9th, I got bonus communication no. 3! Helena and I were out and about shopping when I got a phone call from Will! I am so grateful that I had my phone in my hand at that moment, because I would have been so upset if I had missed the call! It was another canned speech about "crossing the tracks" from Processing to Basic. Again, I just said "I love you, I love you, I love you!"
So, now I am phone obsessed. My kids always complained that it was impossible to get me on the phone because I never hear it ring. Not anymore. I guarantee, if you call, I will notice it, now. They were supposed to be granted a holiday phone call home on the 4th of July, but someone in the formation swore and wouldn't fess up to it, so they all lost phone privileges. I never know when a phone call might be granted, so I have to be prepared!
Now, about those letters.
I started writing letters on the very first day he was gone. I had no way to mail them to him, of course, but that didn't stop me. I had at least 12 letters piled up before I actually got an address, so his first packet of mail was slightly fat. :)
Will's first two letters home were short, upbeat, and awesome. The first two letters were from Processing, or just after. The third letter is the one that tore at my heartstrings.
His most recent letter said that he felt sick. Physically, that is. And homesick. Oh, that just tore me to pieces. When he wrote that letter, he hadn't received any letters from home yet, because that is the frustrating fact of snail mail. Your communications with each other often cross paths.
Let me back up. His homesick letter was written on the 12th. The day before he went to church. On Sunday the 13th, I got a phone call from a service missionary member (an Elder Tomani) in the church there who told me that Will had come to church, filled out the information form, and checked the box asking that they call his family to let us know he was doing alright. (This was bonus communication no. 4!) Elder Tomani is the one who was able to give me Will's mailing address. I mailed his big packet of 12+ letters the very next morning, the 14th. (Will's first letter hadn't had a return address on it, because when he wrote it, he was still in Processing and didn't have an address to give me.) I didn't get the letter he wrote on the 12th (about feeling sick) until the 16th.
Can you see the frustration in all this?
In this digital age, it is difficult dealing with snail mail.
But mostly, it is difficult being the Mom and being so far away in space and time that I didn't know my son was feeling sick until 4 days after the fact. Was he running a fever? Was it just fatigue and muscle soreness? Was it something he ate? Was it his body adjusting to new germs/environment? Was there a way for him to report feeling sick without getting chewed out by a Drill Sergeant? Is he now feeling better?
I don't know the answers to any of those questions. I haven't gotten another letter from him since.
I do trust the Army to look out for my son. I trust my son to do what needs to be done.
I just hate snail mail. And I love getting letters from him!
Snail mail is weird.
It feels like forever. It feels like he just left yesterday.
Time is weird.
On the day that he left, I kept my phone in my hand the entire afternoon and evening. I knew his plane took off around 1:00ish, so I started being phone crazy around 3. At 4:45, he sent me a text to let me know their plane had landed in Oklahoma. That was bonus communication no. 1.
My friend, Michelle, invited me out to get a treat that evening, but I asked her for a raincheck, because I was so paranoid I'd miss the official one-and-only phone call from my boy.
He called at 10:00 that night. But, it wasn't the official phone call. It was bonus communication no. 2! It was 11 pm for him, and the recruits were all sent to bed without doing the shake-down. So, he was able to call me and actually TALK about how things were going for him. Oh, that made me so happy!!! He couldn't talk for long, because it was 11 pm and they had to get up at 4 am. He did say he spent most of the evening lining up in various places and "getting yelled at a lot". He sounded happy.
The official phone call came at 3:30 our time the following morning. At 4:30 for him, the Drill Sergeants stood over all the recruits and listened to them as they recited a canned speech about arriving safely and surrendering their phones, I love you and goodbye. And, that was it. I could hear many other voices in the background saying the same thing into their phones as Will was saying it to me.
I just said "I love you, I love you, I love you" over and over just before he hung up.
And, that was it.
On July 9th, I got bonus communication no. 3! Helena and I were out and about shopping when I got a phone call from Will! I am so grateful that I had my phone in my hand at that moment, because I would have been so upset if I had missed the call! It was another canned speech about "crossing the tracks" from Processing to Basic. Again, I just said "I love you, I love you, I love you!"
So, now I am phone obsessed. My kids always complained that it was impossible to get me on the phone because I never hear it ring. Not anymore. I guarantee, if you call, I will notice it, now. They were supposed to be granted a holiday phone call home on the 4th of July, but someone in the formation swore and wouldn't fess up to it, so they all lost phone privileges. I never know when a phone call might be granted, so I have to be prepared!
Now, about those letters.
I started writing letters on the very first day he was gone. I had no way to mail them to him, of course, but that didn't stop me. I had at least 12 letters piled up before I actually got an address, so his first packet of mail was slightly fat. :)
Will's first two letters home were short, upbeat, and awesome. The first two letters were from Processing, or just after. The third letter is the one that tore at my heartstrings.
His most recent letter said that he felt sick. Physically, that is. And homesick. Oh, that just tore me to pieces. When he wrote that letter, he hadn't received any letters from home yet, because that is the frustrating fact of snail mail. Your communications with each other often cross paths.
Let me back up. His homesick letter was written on the 12th. The day before he went to church. On Sunday the 13th, I got a phone call from a service missionary member (an Elder Tomani) in the church there who told me that Will had come to church, filled out the information form, and checked the box asking that they call his family to let us know he was doing alright. (This was bonus communication no. 4!) Elder Tomani is the one who was able to give me Will's mailing address. I mailed his big packet of 12+ letters the very next morning, the 14th. (Will's first letter hadn't had a return address on it, because when he wrote it, he was still in Processing and didn't have an address to give me.) I didn't get the letter he wrote on the 12th (about feeling sick) until the 16th.
Can you see the frustration in all this?
In this digital age, it is difficult dealing with snail mail.
But mostly, it is difficult being the Mom and being so far away in space and time that I didn't know my son was feeling sick until 4 days after the fact. Was he running a fever? Was it just fatigue and muscle soreness? Was it something he ate? Was it his body adjusting to new germs/environment? Was there a way for him to report feeling sick without getting chewed out by a Drill Sergeant? Is he now feeling better?
I don't know the answers to any of those questions. I haven't gotten another letter from him since.
I do trust the Army to look out for my son. I trust my son to do what needs to be done.
I just hate snail mail. And I love getting letters from him!
Snail mail is weird.
Overwrought
My heart is overfull of emotions. Overwrought.
It hit last night. The reality that he is really leaving.
We decided to go to the lake one last time. We loaded up the gear and decided to try out Lincoln Beach, down on the south side of the lake. We had never been to that beach, though I had ridden on my bike past it during my half Ironman a couple of years ago. It's a 50 minute drive away, so it's kind of ridiculous that we drove past both Lindon Beach and the Provo boat harbor (both places where we play). But, new things are good, right?
Wrong.
Lincoln Beach turned out to be a great place to kayak, but not much else.
The shoreline was rocky instead of sandy. Rocks with muddy slime. The water was SHALLOW. I mean ankle-calf depth for most of the way out to the end of the jetty, with a bed of mud/slime to walk in. Once past the jetty, the water deepened slightly (maybe waist deep) and the waves were BIG! The evening breeze travels over the lake from North to South, so what may have started as little ripples to the north had built up to big rolling breakers at the south end.
Lincoln Beach is out in the middle of farm country. It seemed to draw a fisherman and "rednecks" crowd. There were camp chairs plunked down in the middle of the bay, with a group of guys lounging while fly fishing. Not a big deal, other than we felt like we were in their way.
Bill and Helena were going to float around on blow up loungers, but one floating dead fish convinced Helena that she DID NOT like this beach and she was done with the water. They got out and explored on land, instead.
Meanwhile, Will was struggling to get up on his board. The protected water was too shallow for the windsurf board. Will couldn't put down his dagger board (the tail fin that allows the board to trim forward instead of being dragged sideways by the wind). Beyond the jetty the waves and wind were too much for his sail. At least, too much without a harness for him to clip himself onto the boom. And he had left the harness at home, not anticipating the conditions.
So, there I was, paddling around in my kayak, watching Will get frustrated and angry on his last night at home. Suddenly, it hit me that he was leaving. And I just couldn't contain the emotions.
Many years ago, when my youngest brother was killed in a car accident, I discovered that a great release for pent up emotion was to beat it out in physical exercise. I recall one particular bike ride when I was able to pedal like mad while the tears streamed down.
Last night I had my kayak. So, I turned my face to the wind and I attacked those waves as the tears flowed. It hurt and it felt good all at the same time. I'm not sure if there is a better way to describe it. I took on a lot of water and thought (for the first time on that lake) that maybe I should have put on a life jacket. They were good waves!
The evening ended on a good note, with everyone laughing and happy at a nearby Wendy's for dinner. Well, mostly happy. Like I said, I'm overwrought.
And now he is gone.
We drove him down to the recruiting station this morning and saw him off with the families of 3 other recruits who are also going to Ft. Sill. I think I did a fairly decent job of not melting down in front of everybody. Sure, there were some tears, but considering how much I was feeling in the moment, I feel like I held it in pretty well.
He left his room a mess, but I'm staying out of it for a few days, until I can get a better handle on my emotional state.
I will be a weepy mess for a day or two. Or maybe a week or two.
Don't mind me. I'll be back to status quo, soon.
It hit last night. The reality that he is really leaving.
We decided to go to the lake one last time. We loaded up the gear and decided to try out Lincoln Beach, down on the south side of the lake. We had never been to that beach, though I had ridden on my bike past it during my half Ironman a couple of years ago. It's a 50 minute drive away, so it's kind of ridiculous that we drove past both Lindon Beach and the Provo boat harbor (both places where we play). But, new things are good, right?
Wrong.
Lincoln Beach turned out to be a great place to kayak, but not much else.
The shoreline was rocky instead of sandy. Rocks with muddy slime. The water was SHALLOW. I mean ankle-calf depth for most of the way out to the end of the jetty, with a bed of mud/slime to walk in. Once past the jetty, the water deepened slightly (maybe waist deep) and the waves were BIG! The evening breeze travels over the lake from North to South, so what may have started as little ripples to the north had built up to big rolling breakers at the south end.
Lincoln Beach is out in the middle of farm country. It seemed to draw a fisherman and "rednecks" crowd. There were camp chairs plunked down in the middle of the bay, with a group of guys lounging while fly fishing. Not a big deal, other than we felt like we were in their way.
Bill and Helena were going to float around on blow up loungers, but one floating dead fish convinced Helena that she DID NOT like this beach and she was done with the water. They got out and explored on land, instead.
Meanwhile, Will was struggling to get up on his board. The protected water was too shallow for the windsurf board. Will couldn't put down his dagger board (the tail fin that allows the board to trim forward instead of being dragged sideways by the wind). Beyond the jetty the waves and wind were too much for his sail. At least, too much without a harness for him to clip himself onto the boom. And he had left the harness at home, not anticipating the conditions.
So, there I was, paddling around in my kayak, watching Will get frustrated and angry on his last night at home. Suddenly, it hit me that he was leaving. And I just couldn't contain the emotions.
Many years ago, when my youngest brother was killed in a car accident, I discovered that a great release for pent up emotion was to beat it out in physical exercise. I recall one particular bike ride when I was able to pedal like mad while the tears streamed down.
Last night I had my kayak. So, I turned my face to the wind and I attacked those waves as the tears flowed. It hurt and it felt good all at the same time. I'm not sure if there is a better way to describe it. I took on a lot of water and thought (for the first time on that lake) that maybe I should have put on a life jacket. They were good waves!
The evening ended on a good note, with everyone laughing and happy at a nearby Wendy's for dinner. Well, mostly happy. Like I said, I'm overwrought.
And now he is gone.
We drove him down to the recruiting station this morning and saw him off with the families of 3 other recruits who are also going to Ft. Sill. I think I did a fairly decent job of not melting down in front of everybody. Sure, there were some tears, but considering how much I was feeling in the moment, I feel like I held it in pretty well.
He left his room a mess, but I'm staying out of it for a few days, until I can get a better handle on my emotional state.
I will be a weepy mess for a day or two. Or maybe a week or two.
Don't mind me. I'll be back to status quo, soon.
Endings and Beginnings
Hallo! We are just about to say 'good-bye' and 'good luck' to our young soldier. I have tried to pack as much fun into the month of June as I could. It will be his only month of summer vacation, so I wanted it to be fun and memorable.
We had family pictures taken. I'll post some as soon as I get them from Miss Saren (Mrs., actually, but she'll always be a young 'Miss' to me, since I'm turning into an old person). We swam. We went to the movies. We ate out more often than we could technically afford. We BBQ-ed. We had bonfires in the back yard. We went to the lake and windsurfed/kayaked/stowed away on some dude's catamaran (only Will did the last part, but, HEY! sounds cool). And, I took him and his 'battle buddy', Private Paul, up to the Solomon Center in Ogden (2 hr. round trip) so they could do indoor skydiving/rock climbing/indoor surfing! That was a fun day! Well, all except realizing when we got home that he had lost his dog tags. GAH!!! I went into panic mode. They have his name and SS number on them! I know he will be issued new tags when he arrives at Basic. Most new recruits get their first tags at Basic. Will has had dog tags for almost a year, however, because he enlisted last July and has been serving in his Reserve unit ever since. He has already received a promotion, in fact, and will be doing Basic as a Private 2nd Class.
Anyways, I hurried and called every venue up in Ogden and asked for them to look for the tags. And, wouldn't you know it, THEY FOUND THEM! HOORAY! The Flowrider staff found them over by the Costa Vida (where we ate dinner). They are going to mail them back to us, so we don't have to drive for 2 hours to retrieve them. One of life's little blessings!
So, I'm down to counting hours before my son leaves for this big adventure. I'm excited for him, but I'm sad for me. I will miss him something fierce! When Helena moved out, I stood in her room several times and just teared up over missing her... even though she was only two towns over and often brought her laundry home &/or came "shopping" in my pantry. This will be much harder. I have no doubt I will spend some maudlin moments in his room, too. I'm extra thankful that Helena moved back home. That will make this easier for me.
No Skype. No phone calls. No texts.
Only snail mail.
They will give him his mail once a week, and make him earn it with push ups. No packages allowed. Just words of encouragement and photos. He WILL get to call me once on the day after he arrives at the base, to let me know he arrived safely. After that, he MIGHT be allowed to call every few weeks... if he earns it &/or the Drill Sargent is in the mood.
Meanwhile, I have to move on with my plans for the summer.
Normally, I have a routine planned out from day one of summer break. Not this year. I let June roll over me in one big jumble of activity. So, starting July 1st, I am getting back into a schedule. Not a rigid-my-days-are-packed kind of schedule. Just a routine.
Get up at 6
Work out from 7-9 (this could be walking/jogging/bike riding/weights/whatever)
Yard work (and house repairs) until lunch at 11:30
housework for an hour after lunch
personal improvement (sketching/painting/Rosetta Stone) for two hours in the afternoon.
Unplug at 8
Swim from 8:30 to 9:30
Bed at 10
There are some rigid time frames in there. Notably the getting up/exercising/going to bed times. I find I do better at exercise if I am more rigid with it. The rest can shift as needed, and it leaves me plenty of 'down' time to be a lazy summer slug and lounge around poolside or on the porch. I need that just as much as the exercise! And, of course, there will be some interruptions to that plan. The Steel Days Art Show will consume a week in mid-July, and I will be teaching children's community art classes for a week in late July.
Saturdays and Sundays won't have all that going on. Those days will be pretty unstructured.
Actually, I plan to use my Saturdays to work on Will's room. It is due for an overhaul. I won't say more, now. Just know I have some exciting plans that I hope to surprise him with when he comes home!
So, I say farewell to my boy, and hope to welcome him back 6 months from now as a soldier and a man.
We had family pictures taken. I'll post some as soon as I get them from Miss Saren (Mrs., actually, but she'll always be a young 'Miss' to me, since I'm turning into an old person). We swam. We went to the movies. We ate out more often than we could technically afford. We BBQ-ed. We had bonfires in the back yard. We went to the lake and windsurfed/kayaked/stowed away on some dude's catamaran (only Will did the last part, but, HEY! sounds cool). And, I took him and his 'battle buddy', Private Paul, up to the Solomon Center in Ogden (2 hr. round trip) so they could do indoor skydiving/rock climbing/indoor surfing! That was a fun day! Well, all except realizing when we got home that he had lost his dog tags. GAH!!! I went into panic mode. They have his name and SS number on them! I know he will be issued new tags when he arrives at Basic. Most new recruits get their first tags at Basic. Will has had dog tags for almost a year, however, because he enlisted last July and has been serving in his Reserve unit ever since. He has already received a promotion, in fact, and will be doing Basic as a Private 2nd Class.
Anyways, I hurried and called every venue up in Ogden and asked for them to look for the tags. And, wouldn't you know it, THEY FOUND THEM! HOORAY! The Flowrider staff found them over by the Costa Vida (where we ate dinner). They are going to mail them back to us, so we don't have to drive for 2 hours to retrieve them. One of life's little blessings!
So, I'm down to counting hours before my son leaves for this big adventure. I'm excited for him, but I'm sad for me. I will miss him something fierce! When Helena moved out, I stood in her room several times and just teared up over missing her... even though she was only two towns over and often brought her laundry home &/or came "shopping" in my pantry. This will be much harder. I have no doubt I will spend some maudlin moments in his room, too. I'm extra thankful that Helena moved back home. That will make this easier for me.
No Skype. No phone calls. No texts.
Only snail mail.
They will give him his mail once a week, and make him earn it with push ups. No packages allowed. Just words of encouragement and photos. He WILL get to call me once on the day after he arrives at the base, to let me know he arrived safely. After that, he MIGHT be allowed to call every few weeks... if he earns it &/or the Drill Sargent is in the mood.
Meanwhile, I have to move on with my plans for the summer.
Normally, I have a routine planned out from day one of summer break. Not this year. I let June roll over me in one big jumble of activity. So, starting July 1st, I am getting back into a schedule. Not a rigid-my-days-are-packed kind of schedule. Just a routine.
Get up at 6
Work out from 7-9 (this could be walking/jogging/bike riding/weights/whatever)
Yard work (and house repairs) until lunch at 11:30
housework for an hour after lunch
personal improvement (sketching/painting/Rosetta Stone) for two hours in the afternoon.
Unplug at 8
Swim from 8:30 to 9:30
Bed at 10
There are some rigid time frames in there. Notably the getting up/exercising/going to bed times. I find I do better at exercise if I am more rigid with it. The rest can shift as needed, and it leaves me plenty of 'down' time to be a lazy summer slug and lounge around poolside or on the porch. I need that just as much as the exercise! And, of course, there will be some interruptions to that plan. The Steel Days Art Show will consume a week in mid-July, and I will be teaching children's community art classes for a week in late July.
Saturdays and Sundays won't have all that going on. Those days will be pretty unstructured.
Actually, I plan to use my Saturdays to work on Will's room. It is due for an overhaul. I won't say more, now. Just know I have some exciting plans that I hope to surprise him with when he comes home!
So, I say farewell to my boy, and hope to welcome him back 6 months from now as a soldier and a man.
Social Media Depression
I get very frustrated sometimes looking at Facebook.
"Social Media Depression" I think is what they're calling it.
As I scroll down my feed, I am bombarded with post after post about everybody else's WONDERFUL child. This young man has received X, Y, and Z awards. This young lady has pulled a 4.0 and received a scholarship to the university of her choice. These young men and women are all going off to serve missions for their church after graduating from seminary.
Moms (and even some Dads) love to brag up their children on Facebook. I admit, I like to, too.
And I'm happy for all of them and their achievements.
But mostly I'm frustrated and jealous.
Not all of us have 4.0 students.
Not all of us have children who have won awards.
Not all of us have children who are interested in religious studies or service.
In fact, some of us are simply celebrating the fact that our children have barely met the mark for graduation, despite all they have done to undermine themselves along the way. Some of us have smart kids who submarined themselves and underachieved rather spectacularly.
And, yes, I am very proud of my child!
I am proud that he met the mark and is completing this milestone in life. I am proud of his determination to serve his country and join the Army. I believe in his intelligence and his ability to attend college when he is ready.
But I get dragged down by green meanies when I see all the brag-fests on Facebook.
And then I saw it.
A post on the memorial page of my son's school friend who took his own life last year. A post from his parents wishing all the graduates well. A post filled with the pain of loss made fresh with every milestone their son should have been experiencing.
And I am so moved to tears that I have no words to express my feelings.
"Social Media Depression" I think is what they're calling it.
As I scroll down my feed, I am bombarded with post after post about everybody else's WONDERFUL child. This young man has received X, Y, and Z awards. This young lady has pulled a 4.0 and received a scholarship to the university of her choice. These young men and women are all going off to serve missions for their church after graduating from seminary.
Moms (and even some Dads) love to brag up their children on Facebook. I admit, I like to, too.
And I'm happy for all of them and their achievements.
But mostly I'm frustrated and jealous.
Not all of us have 4.0 students.
Not all of us have children who have won awards.
Not all of us have children who are interested in religious studies or service.
In fact, some of us are simply celebrating the fact that our children have barely met the mark for graduation, despite all they have done to undermine themselves along the way. Some of us have smart kids who submarined themselves and underachieved rather spectacularly.
And, yes, I am very proud of my child!
I am proud that he met the mark and is completing this milestone in life. I am proud of his determination to serve his country and join the Army. I believe in his intelligence and his ability to attend college when he is ready.
But I get dragged down by green meanies when I see all the brag-fests on Facebook.
And then I saw it.
A post on the memorial page of my son's school friend who took his own life last year. A post from his parents wishing all the graduates well. A post filled with the pain of loss made fresh with every milestone their son should have been experiencing.
And I am so moved to tears that I have no words to express my feelings.
Acknowledging the Simple Blessings of Life
On Memorial Day, I went for a walk. It was a gorgeous day. The sky was blue, the air was warm, the flowers were blooming.
It was a good day to be alive!
I've been struggling for the past three months. I have been sick. No, I don't really know what it is. I went to the doctor several times, was put on three different antibiotics, and a course of steroids (to bring the coughing under control enough so I would stop throwing up. Yeah, fun times). Still no improvement. I've had every bit of advice thrown my way, from "oh, it's probably just allergies." (Um, NO. It's not.), to "You should really be using X, Y, and Z essential oils. You'd be cured in a matter of days." (Not a fan. I had a student a couple of years ago whose mother was convinced could study and learn better if DOUSED in essential oils daily. Yeah, the rest of us had massive headaches from the overpowering aroma until the principal put his foot down and told the mother it was too much. And, no, the oils DID NOT make her smarter.) I wish I could tell people just how very unhelpful their armchair doctoring is to me. I don't mind sympathy, I don't need amateur doctors.
The real doc thinks it is bronchitis, but I've never heard of bronchitis sticking around for this long. He insists it's not pneumonia, so there's that. For what it's worth.
Meanwhile, back at the farm, life goes on much as you'd expect with mostly grown kids. Late night worrying and late-teen temptations and frustrations being what they are, I never quite get enough sleep. Also, the stress of being the mom has gifted me with an impressive collection of acne smattered across my chin. So sexy in a 40 something year old.
So, you can see what a gift that beautiful day was to me. As I was walking the neighborhood, I reflected that I really do live in a great location! I live in what most people would call a fair to big sized city, but I live in the old district. That means that the library, grocery store, church, cemetery, several parks, an elementary, junior high, and high school are all within walking distance. And, of course, the city rec. center is only a half block away, too! Work out classes and equipment, an indoor track, and two pools (olympic lap pool and leisure pool w/water slide/lazy river) plus hot tub!
It is good to be reminded sometimes of the awesomeness of life that we sometimes take for granted because most of the time it just fades to the background as we go about living.
And stressing.
Sigh. (Really, I'm okay. This, too, will pass)
It was a good day to be alive!
I've been struggling for the past three months. I have been sick. No, I don't really know what it is. I went to the doctor several times, was put on three different antibiotics, and a course of steroids (to bring the coughing under control enough so I would stop throwing up. Yeah, fun times). Still no improvement. I've had every bit of advice thrown my way, from "oh, it's probably just allergies." (Um, NO. It's not.), to "You should really be using X, Y, and Z essential oils. You'd be cured in a matter of days." (Not a fan. I had a student a couple of years ago whose mother was convinced could study and learn better if DOUSED in essential oils daily. Yeah, the rest of us had massive headaches from the overpowering aroma until the principal put his foot down and told the mother it was too much. And, no, the oils DID NOT make her smarter.) I wish I could tell people just how very unhelpful their armchair doctoring is to me. I don't mind sympathy, I don't need amateur doctors.
The real doc thinks it is bronchitis, but I've never heard of bronchitis sticking around for this long. He insists it's not pneumonia, so there's that. For what it's worth.
Meanwhile, back at the farm, life goes on much as you'd expect with mostly grown kids. Late night worrying and late-teen temptations and frustrations being what they are, I never quite get enough sleep. Also, the stress of being the mom has gifted me with an impressive collection of acne smattered across my chin. So sexy in a 40 something year old.
So, you can see what a gift that beautiful day was to me. As I was walking the neighborhood, I reflected that I really do live in a great location! I live in what most people would call a fair to big sized city, but I live in the old district. That means that the library, grocery store, church, cemetery, several parks, an elementary, junior high, and high school are all within walking distance. And, of course, the city rec. center is only a half block away, too! Work out classes and equipment, an indoor track, and two pools (olympic lap pool and leisure pool w/water slide/lazy river) plus hot tub!
It is good to be reminded sometimes of the awesomeness of life that we sometimes take for granted because most of the time it just fades to the background as we go about living.
And stressing.
Sigh. (Really, I'm okay. This, too, will pass)
Prom 2014
.JPG)
Will told me over and over again for MONTHS that he wasn't interested in Prom. I stopped bringing it up because he would just roll his eyes and walk away.
So, imagine my surprise when I received this text conversation from him last Wednesday;
Will: Hey I'm going to Prom :P
Me: WHAT?! Cool! With whom? Also, home soon?
Will: I'm getting fitted for a suit.
Me: Holy crapinoly! Awesome, love you!
Keep in mind, Prom was in THREE DAYS.
It turns out that he and Brenna were talking (for those of you not in the know, Brenna was Will's girlfriend last summer, but they broke up last fall), and they both discovered that neither of them was going to prom. So, they decided to go together. They doubled with Brenna's friend and her date.
Will was bemused at how much we reacted to the news. But, really. After months and months of saying "No", this sudden whirlwind of three days of Prom prep was pretty amazing! He took care of all of the arrangements himself, and paid for all of it himself. He rented the tux, picked it up, and presumably returned it today. He got her corsage and the prom tickets.
I have to say, he looked AMAZING in his tux! The short jacket with long tails look great on his trim figure. It was also a perfect match to Brenna's dress. They looked very happy and seemed to have a great time. It would now appear that Will and Brenna are back together.
I'm very happy, too. I wanted him to go to prom so much! It is an event that only happens at this point in life, and it would be a shame to miss out on the experience. Maybe I am projecting my own youth, since I was never asked to prom, or any other school dance, for that matter. I always wanted to go, but never got the chance. It was hard for me to have my son say he didn't want to go. However, I reconciled the fact that it was his choice. It's not like he wanted to and never had the opportunity.
Still, I'm very happy they had a good time! Now, just 5 more weeks until graduation, and only 9 weeks until he ships out for Basic Training! Ahhhh!
Not so Utopian
Why have I been missing in action for so long, you ask?
I shut down when life turns difficult. The more difficult, the more I retreat. From this record, anyways.
Things have been hard around here. Really hard. Struggles and difficulties that I can't talk about because they are not my tales to tell. It is not my job to tell all the stories of the world. Or even all the stories in the family. I can only tell mine, and the stories of others when they are positive and upbeat. But when the stories are not upbeat, when the road is rocky, I'm not going to share. Not even when the stories ARE mine, actually. Since I can't just go on writing breezy, lighthearted posts when my heartstrings are being plucked, I will remain silent.
It used to be that I wrote in hardbound journals, and I would write EVERYTHING. For years I did that. The good and the bad. And then I discovered something. When I was feeling happy and looked back through the journals, I saw the good and it confirmed my good mood. But I also saw the bad, and it brought me down. Total buzz kill. When I was feeling down, I'd look back through the journals and ONLY see the bad... confirming my black mood.
So writing about bad times, for me, is a double negative. Which in this case (unlike in math) does NOT equate to a positive.
So, no. It's not just the online nature of this journal. It is a life lesson. Don't immortalize the negative moments of life. Don't afford them that honor. I'm not saying ignore them in the moment. Bad times happen to everyone, and they need to be dealt with in a healthy way. For me, writing them down is not a healthy way to deal with them.
I know many would disagree with me. They might say that getting the thoughts out of my head and verbalizing them would be cathartic. That without sharing, there can be no healing help from others. Or even that I create an unrealistically utopian view of my life by editing out the negative. Please understand. I am not being completely silent. I am getting the help needed in the moment. In real time, real face-to-face interactions with people around me. I'm not depressed or in danger of becoming so. I am simply not willing to look back to this point in my life and have anger, frustration, or worry be the permanent record.
Anyways, that is why the hiatus. Time will smooth the road out, and I will return to my breezy posts and light filled reports of all things wonderful. My "utopian" record. ;)
I shut down when life turns difficult. The more difficult, the more I retreat. From this record, anyways.
Things have been hard around here. Really hard. Struggles and difficulties that I can't talk about because they are not my tales to tell. It is not my job to tell all the stories of the world. Or even all the stories in the family. I can only tell mine, and the stories of others when they are positive and upbeat. But when the stories are not upbeat, when the road is rocky, I'm not going to share. Not even when the stories ARE mine, actually. Since I can't just go on writing breezy, lighthearted posts when my heartstrings are being plucked, I will remain silent.
It used to be that I wrote in hardbound journals, and I would write EVERYTHING. For years I did that. The good and the bad. And then I discovered something. When I was feeling happy and looked back through the journals, I saw the good and it confirmed my good mood. But I also saw the bad, and it brought me down. Total buzz kill. When I was feeling down, I'd look back through the journals and ONLY see the bad... confirming my black mood.
So writing about bad times, for me, is a double negative. Which in this case (unlike in math) does NOT equate to a positive.
So, no. It's not just the online nature of this journal. It is a life lesson. Don't immortalize the negative moments of life. Don't afford them that honor. I'm not saying ignore them in the moment. Bad times happen to everyone, and they need to be dealt with in a healthy way. For me, writing them down is not a healthy way to deal with them.
I know many would disagree with me. They might say that getting the thoughts out of my head and verbalizing them would be cathartic. That without sharing, there can be no healing help from others. Or even that I create an unrealistically utopian view of my life by editing out the negative. Please understand. I am not being completely silent. I am getting the help needed in the moment. In real time, real face-to-face interactions with people around me. I'm not depressed or in danger of becoming so. I am simply not willing to look back to this point in my life and have anger, frustration, or worry be the permanent record.
Anyways, that is why the hiatus. Time will smooth the road out, and I will return to my breezy posts and light filled reports of all things wonderful. My "utopian" record. ;)
Reserve vs. Active Duty
Will dropped a bombshell on us this week.
He's considering switching from Army Reserves to Active Duty Army.
!!!
He hasn't gone to Basic Training, yet, so making the switch now will be easier than at any other point in his military service. He has been going to his Reserve drill weekends every month ever since July. I think it is the drill weekends that have made him change his mind. He feels that his service in the Reserves is not meaningful enough. Their unit building is run down. Command has not bothered to check in with the unit in a long time. He feels like what he is doing there is a sham, I guess. He also feels that his MOS (Army job) isn't what he wanted. He's scheduled to be training in Chemical Operations, but he actually always wanted to be a door gunner on a helicopter. There is no MOS for that, so in order to qualify for it, you have to become a helicopter mechanic and work your way up to Crew Chief. And only on helicopters that have door gunners.
Great.
I can understand how he feels. I appreciate it. I do. I was concerned when he joined that he didn't take long enough choosing his MOS. I wanted to go home and sleep on it, but the recruiter told him that if he didn't choose right away, the jobs with the signing bonuses would potentially be gone. Ten thousand dollars is a strong incentive!
So. Here we are.
I was very comfortable with the arrangements as they are. He would only be gone for 6 months, then home again to do drill weekends, go to school, get a job (possibly as an EMT, since he is working on his certification right now), even move out and have college adventures. But all of it would be right here, close to home. I wouldn't have to say "good-bye".
All of that would change if he choses to go Active Duty.
After Basic and AIT (Advanced Individual Training, aka, job training), he would go off to whatever duty station the Army assigned him to. He would be gone.
I can't tell you how much my heart hurts right now to even think of it.
My kids have been growing up at a nice, slow pace. Helena is at home, going to school, working, dating... having adventures that don't take her too far away from me. She still likes to plan us into her life and, most importantly, do things with me.
Will wants to leave. I'm not ready for that! Is he ready for that? I'm not sure. He still needs me to get him up in the mornings and cook him breakfast.
I picture him far from home, with no family to turn to when he is lonely or depressed. What if he struggles to make friends? I worry about his spiritual well being, too. He doesn't go to church; will he find God when he is on his own?
GAH! I'm an emotional mess! Why do they have to grow up?!?
He leaves for drill weekend right after school today, so we won't be able to do anything about this until next week. I don't even know if it is possible to make the switch, anyways. Still, it is going to be a tough weekend for me, and possibly a tough spring... if I find out that I'll have to say "good-bye" this summer.
He's considering switching from Army Reserves to Active Duty Army.
!!!
He hasn't gone to Basic Training, yet, so making the switch now will be easier than at any other point in his military service. He has been going to his Reserve drill weekends every month ever since July. I think it is the drill weekends that have made him change his mind. He feels that his service in the Reserves is not meaningful enough. Their unit building is run down. Command has not bothered to check in with the unit in a long time. He feels like what he is doing there is a sham, I guess. He also feels that his MOS (Army job) isn't what he wanted. He's scheduled to be training in Chemical Operations, but he actually always wanted to be a door gunner on a helicopter. There is no MOS for that, so in order to qualify for it, you have to become a helicopter mechanic and work your way up to Crew Chief. And only on helicopters that have door gunners.
Great.
I can understand how he feels. I appreciate it. I do. I was concerned when he joined that he didn't take long enough choosing his MOS. I wanted to go home and sleep on it, but the recruiter told him that if he didn't choose right away, the jobs with the signing bonuses would potentially be gone. Ten thousand dollars is a strong incentive!
So. Here we are.
I was very comfortable with the arrangements as they are. He would only be gone for 6 months, then home again to do drill weekends, go to school, get a job (possibly as an EMT, since he is working on his certification right now), even move out and have college adventures. But all of it would be right here, close to home. I wouldn't have to say "good-bye".
All of that would change if he choses to go Active Duty.
After Basic and AIT (Advanced Individual Training, aka, job training), he would go off to whatever duty station the Army assigned him to. He would be gone.
I can't tell you how much my heart hurts right now to even think of it.
My kids have been growing up at a nice, slow pace. Helena is at home, going to school, working, dating... having adventures that don't take her too far away from me. She still likes to plan us into her life and, most importantly, do things with me.
Will wants to leave. I'm not ready for that! Is he ready for that? I'm not sure. He still needs me to get him up in the mornings and cook him breakfast.
I picture him far from home, with no family to turn to when he is lonely or depressed. What if he struggles to make friends? I worry about his spiritual well being, too. He doesn't go to church; will he find God when he is on his own?
GAH! I'm an emotional mess! Why do they have to grow up?!?
He leaves for drill weekend right after school today, so we won't be able to do anything about this until next week. I don't even know if it is possible to make the switch, anyways. Still, it is going to be a tough weekend for me, and possibly a tough spring... if I find out that I'll have to say "good-bye" this summer.
The Food Bank
Will is taking psychology this semester. The teacher set a term project for the students to do 5 hours of community service. Only two hours have to be physically at some location. The rest can be accomplished through writing letters to senators, showing her a voter registration card (if the student is over 18) and other such things. Will really hates writing stuff, however, and he's only 17, so he decided to do all 5 hours in physical service. We signed up to volunteer at the Food Bank.
Yes, we. It's not very fun to volunteer alone, and I wanted to volunteer, too.
I've never been to the Food Bank before. I've donated canned goods often enough. Every Scouting food drive, mail carrier food drive, school food drive, and any other food drive that comes our way, we usually pull some cans out of the pantry and send them on their way. For the first time, on New Year's Eve, I saw where they all go.
It is a run down building near the end of the FrontRunner line. Down by the train tracks, in other words. In a dodgy part of Provo. It's a warehouse in severe need of fumigating. I spent most of my time stocking shelves in the "pantry"/store where people in need are sent through with helpers to insure they only take what they need. They have to have visited a case worker, first, then they are sent through with a pallet cart and specific instructions to take X # of cans of soup, Y # of cans of vegetables, and Z # of cans of fruit, and so on. The numbers were based on the number of people living in the family. My job was to keep the shelves stocked so people could make their selections.
The canned foods had been sorted into bins in the back of the warehouse. Many/most of the cans were dented in some way. You know how you always leave the dented cans on the grocery store shelves when you are shopping? Most of those cans end up at the food bank. Some of them burst and spill their contents all over everything else in the bin. Yuck. That leads to the problem with mice.
The shelves I was stocking had mouse dropping on them! Ugh!!! I wanted to bleach wash them SO BADLY! These poor people! I desperately hope they sanitize the cans BEFORE opening them! Who knows what kinds of viruses are being passed to some of the most vulnerable people in our society.
Honestly, I'm not blaming the people who run the Food Bank. They are understaffed and underfunded. They are at the mercy of volunteers and there are never enough. I want to go back so badly and bring a bunch a bleach wipes with me...
...but I dread going back because I had the worst allergic reaction I've had in years! My eyes burned and were all swollen and puffy by the end of the day. I also came home with several flea bites.
The people we helped were a mixed bunch. Some were elderly and mentally struggling. Some were new to the system and seemed almost apologetic. There were several who didn't speak English. Those who spoke Spanish could get a translator, but there were a couple of people who looked Asian, and no one could really help translate for them. We didn't know if they spoke Chinese, Korean, or Vietnamese. Lots of pointing and holding up fingers to indicate numbers, mostly got them through the store.
I remember one young woman. She was VERY pregnant. When she got to the soup shelves, she noticed there were no Spaghetios. She asked me if there were any in the back. I told her 'I'm sorry' and that there had been no Spaghetios all day. She frowned and pouted that she just would have to skip the soup shelves, then, since her kids wouldn't eat anything else in that section.
?!?
Oh. My. Gosh. If I had to rely on the Food Bank to feed my children I would make sure to take EVERY BIT OF FOOD I was allowed and my kids would EAT IT! You don't like chicken noodle soup, kidlets? Tough cookies! Eat and be glad you have food! Oi.
Some of the things I put on the shelves disappeared instantly because they were so rare. Like Miracle Whip, mustard, or chocolate syrup. Other things are just staples and whole shelves had to be restocked several times over the course of the day, like green beans. Peanut butter was another fast moving food item.
Will helped with stocking the dry goods. Stores donate day old bread to the food bank, and that is sent on to families as quickly as possible.
The guy in charge told me that just before Christmas, an anonymous family donated a thousand stuffed stockings to the Food Bank to hand out to families with children.
I was so glad to have the opportunity to serve and I am shamed that it took my son's school assignment for me to do so. We spent two hours, went to lunch, then spent three hours more. The time went by really quickly and when I got home I was BUSHED! (and grossed out, and allergically puffy...)
I need to go again.
With bleach.
Yes, we. It's not very fun to volunteer alone, and I wanted to volunteer, too.
I've never been to the Food Bank before. I've donated canned goods often enough. Every Scouting food drive, mail carrier food drive, school food drive, and any other food drive that comes our way, we usually pull some cans out of the pantry and send them on their way. For the first time, on New Year's Eve, I saw where they all go.
It is a run down building near the end of the FrontRunner line. Down by the train tracks, in other words. In a dodgy part of Provo. It's a warehouse in severe need of fumigating. I spent most of my time stocking shelves in the "pantry"/store where people in need are sent through with helpers to insure they only take what they need. They have to have visited a case worker, first, then they are sent through with a pallet cart and specific instructions to take X # of cans of soup, Y # of cans of vegetables, and Z # of cans of fruit, and so on. The numbers were based on the number of people living in the family. My job was to keep the shelves stocked so people could make their selections.
The canned foods had been sorted into bins in the back of the warehouse. Many/most of the cans were dented in some way. You know how you always leave the dented cans on the grocery store shelves when you are shopping? Most of those cans end up at the food bank. Some of them burst and spill their contents all over everything else in the bin. Yuck. That leads to the problem with mice.
The shelves I was stocking had mouse dropping on them! Ugh!!! I wanted to bleach wash them SO BADLY! These poor people! I desperately hope they sanitize the cans BEFORE opening them! Who knows what kinds of viruses are being passed to some of the most vulnerable people in our society.
Honestly, I'm not blaming the people who run the Food Bank. They are understaffed and underfunded. They are at the mercy of volunteers and there are never enough. I want to go back so badly and bring a bunch a bleach wipes with me...
...but I dread going back because I had the worst allergic reaction I've had in years! My eyes burned and were all swollen and puffy by the end of the day. I also came home with several flea bites.
The people we helped were a mixed bunch. Some were elderly and mentally struggling. Some were new to the system and seemed almost apologetic. There were several who didn't speak English. Those who spoke Spanish could get a translator, but there were a couple of people who looked Asian, and no one could really help translate for them. We didn't know if they spoke Chinese, Korean, or Vietnamese. Lots of pointing and holding up fingers to indicate numbers, mostly got them through the store.
I remember one young woman. She was VERY pregnant. When she got to the soup shelves, she noticed there were no Spaghetios. She asked me if there were any in the back. I told her 'I'm sorry' and that there had been no Spaghetios all day. She frowned and pouted that she just would have to skip the soup shelves, then, since her kids wouldn't eat anything else in that section.
?!?
Oh. My. Gosh. If I had to rely on the Food Bank to feed my children I would make sure to take EVERY BIT OF FOOD I was allowed and my kids would EAT IT! You don't like chicken noodle soup, kidlets? Tough cookies! Eat and be glad you have food! Oi.
Some of the things I put on the shelves disappeared instantly because they were so rare. Like Miracle Whip, mustard, or chocolate syrup. Other things are just staples and whole shelves had to be restocked several times over the course of the day, like green beans. Peanut butter was another fast moving food item.
Will helped with stocking the dry goods. Stores donate day old bread to the food bank, and that is sent on to families as quickly as possible.
The guy in charge told me that just before Christmas, an anonymous family donated a thousand stuffed stockings to the Food Bank to hand out to families with children.
I was so glad to have the opportunity to serve and I am shamed that it took my son's school assignment for me to do so. We spent two hours, went to lunch, then spent three hours more. The time went by really quickly and when I got home I was BUSHED! (and grossed out, and allergically puffy...)
I need to go again.
With bleach.
The Workout Schedule
I have set stuff I like to do. I like to swim. I like to run. I like to ride my bike. Triathlon stuff.
So, I'll revisit my old triathlon type training and see where that takes me.
I think this year I'll make Saturday and Sunday my rest days. At least until summer vacation. That will give me the time I need to get weekend chores done and spend time with the family, I hope.
So, I'm splitting my workouts into two categories; MWF and TTh.
MWF will be running training and weights/core work. My running goal for the next 10 weeks is to speed up on my 5K. I average 31 minutes with a best time of 28 minutes. In 10 weeks I want 28 minutes to be the new average time for the 5K distance. We'll see what my new best time will become! I have an app called 5K Forever that I will be working with to try and meet this goal. The app is designed specifically to help 5K runners improve their time, so I'm excited to give it a go! Today was my first day using the app and it went well.
Core work means situps, pushups, squats, lunges, and planks. My 10 week end goal is 200 situps, 100 pushups, 100 squats, 200 lunges, and 120 second planks. Weights will be just maintenance stuff on my arms.
TTh workouts will be cycle class and swimming. The swimming is iffy, because TTh are long lanes, which means less available lanes (short lanes can be up to 8 lanes, long lanes are at max of 5). With the Resolutioners in the gym, I might not get a lane for a little while, but I'll do my best. I haven't created specific goals for cycle and swim. Just to do them and push myself each day. Work on form and endurance, mostly.
Resolutioners! It's that time of year, again. Today was great. There was no crowd, yet. I expect the crowds will hit just after the annual pass sale and fitness fair next week. Ugh. They all sign up, plunk down their money for an annual pass, crowd out the regulars for two months, then disappear. Most equipment breakage happens during this time because they also bring along their kids, who abuse the equipment.
I'm really not against New Year's Resolutions! I just really believe in only making goals I intend to achieve. Why would you spend the money and not follow through? Why give up after only a few weeks? Why do there have to be so many of them that I can't get my workouts done? The gym oversells knowing many will quit. So in January and February the facility is really over capacity.
Still, some of them end up turning into regulars, and in that case, they are very welcome! For now, I'll have to show up early to cycle class in order to get my preferred bike, and I might have to get creative with my running workouts if all the treadmills are taken.
So, I'll revisit my old triathlon type training and see where that takes me.
I think this year I'll make Saturday and Sunday my rest days. At least until summer vacation. That will give me the time I need to get weekend chores done and spend time with the family, I hope.
So, I'm splitting my workouts into two categories; MWF and TTh.
MWF will be running training and weights/core work. My running goal for the next 10 weeks is to speed up on my 5K. I average 31 minutes with a best time of 28 minutes. In 10 weeks I want 28 minutes to be the new average time for the 5K distance. We'll see what my new best time will become! I have an app called 5K Forever that I will be working with to try and meet this goal. The app is designed specifically to help 5K runners improve their time, so I'm excited to give it a go! Today was my first day using the app and it went well.
Core work means situps, pushups, squats, lunges, and planks. My 10 week end goal is 200 situps, 100 pushups, 100 squats, 200 lunges, and 120 second planks. Weights will be just maintenance stuff on my arms.
TTh workouts will be cycle class and swimming. The swimming is iffy, because TTh are long lanes, which means less available lanes (short lanes can be up to 8 lanes, long lanes are at max of 5). With the Resolutioners in the gym, I might not get a lane for a little while, but I'll do my best. I haven't created specific goals for cycle and swim. Just to do them and push myself each day. Work on form and endurance, mostly.
Resolutioners! It's that time of year, again. Today was great. There was no crowd, yet. I expect the crowds will hit just after the annual pass sale and fitness fair next week. Ugh. They all sign up, plunk down their money for an annual pass, crowd out the regulars for two months, then disappear. Most equipment breakage happens during this time because they also bring along their kids, who abuse the equipment.
I'm really not against New Year's Resolutions! I just really believe in only making goals I intend to achieve. Why would you spend the money and not follow through? Why give up after only a few weeks? Why do there have to be so many of them that I can't get my workouts done? The gym oversells knowing many will quit. So in January and February the facility is really over capacity.
Still, some of them end up turning into regulars, and in that case, they are very welcome! For now, I'll have to show up early to cycle class in order to get my preferred bike, and I might have to get creative with my running workouts if all the treadmills are taken.
2014
Hello there.
Bet you thought I'd forgotten my little online journal.
Nope.
I've just gotten way too distracted by life.
But, I'm here, now. And I'm gonna try to stay with it.
It's a time for new resolutions, after all!
That's right! WELCOME TO 2014 AND THE NEW YEAR'S RESOLUTION POST!
I'm a goal setting kind of person. I don't get too bent out of shape if I fail to reach them all... I just like to set them and see how far it takes me. So, here goes!
Last Sunday, the bishop mentioned some advice he'd been giving on setting goals. He called them goals, not resolutions, because you really should be constantly assessing, adjusting, and setting goals. It is not just a New Year thing. Anyways, he said the advice was to set 3 health goals for yourself... one for physical health, one for mental health, and one for spiritual health. That sounds like a great idea.
Of course, I have a boatload of PHYSICAL HEALTH goals I'd like to tackle.
For instance, I want to;
Bet you thought I'd forgotten my little online journal.
Nope.
I've just gotten way too distracted by life.
But, I'm here, now. And I'm gonna try to stay with it.
It's a time for new resolutions, after all!
That's right! WELCOME TO 2014 AND THE NEW YEAR'S RESOLUTION POST!
I'm a goal setting kind of person. I don't get too bent out of shape if I fail to reach them all... I just like to set them and see how far it takes me. So, here goes!
Last Sunday, the bishop mentioned some advice he'd been giving on setting goals. He called them goals, not resolutions, because you really should be constantly assessing, adjusting, and setting goals. It is not just a New Year thing. Anyways, he said the advice was to set 3 health goals for yourself... one for physical health, one for mental health, and one for spiritual health. That sounds like a great idea.
Of course, I have a boatload of PHYSICAL HEALTH goals I'd like to tackle.
For instance, I want to;
- Get to bed 'early' every night. 'Early' means 10-10:30 nightly (as I type this at 11:30 pm). The problem with that is that I still have a wandering teen in the house to wait up for on occasion. And, lets face it, I'm a night owl and have to force myself to bed most nights. Grrrr. Instead, I want to set a goal to try for 8 HOURS OF SLEEP per night. I think I can manage that, most of the time.
- Get up at 6 am every school day to MAKE BREAKFAST FOR WILL. That one is more for Will's physical/mental health than for mine. I know. I'm a horrible mother! Most mornings he rolls out of bed at 7:20 am and leaves for school at 7:30... with no breakfast. I've never been one of those "let me feed you all the meals" kind of people. Still, I'm gonna try! That means I will have to strive for that 10 pm bedtime on school nights if I'm gonna make that first goal.
- BUILD A NEW WORKOUT SCHEDULE AND STICK TO IT. I've fallen off the workout wagon, somewhat. And by fallen off, I mean I'm still holding on to the wagon and am being dragged in the dirt behind it. I've struggled all through the holidays. I'm making it to about 1/2 of my scheduled workouts each week. I know I can do better. I know I will feel better if I do better. So, I will.
- BREAK THE STUPID SODA HABIT! Here's another wagon I fell off of, people. Gah! Stupid, stupid soda! Why does sugar have to taste so good?! I feel like this is my Achilles heel. My willpower battle royale. So, I will keep up the fight and try again.
- GO TO THE DOCTOR and have the various things taken care of that need attention. Vericose veins & moles. I met my deductible this year, so I might as well take care of stuff. ya know?
MENTAL HEALTH Goals
- DE-CLUTTER. I want to pick one room each month and get rid of as much as I possibly can. Clear out the accumulation of 13-14 years of living in one place. You know what I mean. Things can pile up over time. Papers and books and nick-nacks. Picture frames I meant to paint all black, fill with pictures, and hang on the wall; but are instead all piled in a corner of the dining room gathering dust. The puzzle that was built and mod-podged, but is waiting on top of the dryer for me to find a 22"x24" (or was it x28"?) frame so I can hang it on the wall. All those random bits and pieces of living that need a proper home, or just simply need to go away permanently. How is that mental health, you ask? A cluttered home = a cluttered mind. I think I could focus better with a more spartan house.
- KEEP UP WITH ROSETTA STONE. I have been working on learning Spanish with Rosetta Stone. I work at a Spanish Immersion elementary school, and the administration has provided Rosetta Stone for all the teachers and students to use. Really such a great resource! I could have chosen any language to work on, and I was tempted to brush up my French. But, I want to learn Spanish, for work. Learning a language should keep my mind sharp, especially since it sometimes feels like some of the gears are starting to slip from time to time.
- KEEP UP WITH MY BLOG. This is my journal. I need a place to crystalize my thoughts, and this is that place. It is such a shame that so many good thoughts got lost over the months that I neglected to write. I focus my writing on the positive events in my life, and it helps ME to stay positive. Otherwise, I might let the negative creep in and get too much of a foothold in my life. Keep your sharing POSITIVE! Whether in a blog, or on Facebook, only record the positive. You get back what you send out, so be careful what you send out there!
SPIRITUAL HEALTH Goals
- RENEW MY TEMPLE RECOMMEND. I haven't held a current recommend in years. I don't really have a good reason. Just laziness. I'm a slacker. I need to rededicate myself and get back to the temple. I'm looking forward to some Celestial Room meditations.
- PRAYERS/SCRIPTURES EVERY MORNING. That's gonna be part of the getting up at 6 am gig. I'm shooting for a morning something like this: 15 min. me time (potty, stretching), 15 min. prayer/scriptures, 30 min. breakfast prep., have breakfast with Will (& hopefully Helena), send Will out the door at 7:30, get myself ready for work & out the door around 8:15.
So, there you have it. I'm not good at the one goal per section kind of thing. Still, I like my goals and I'm looking forward to implementing them. Tomorrow I think I'll build that workout schedule!
If you are setting goals this week, I wish you all the best in achieving them! I'm no cynic about New Year's Resolutions... I've accomplished many of mine over the years, so I know they are worthwhile endeavors.
So, set your goals and chase 'em down!
Cheers to a bright 2014!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)