Author Archives: lindyjayne

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MomDay Monday – Wait For It

Today was not a good day.

It was the first day back from school vacation. And the two weeks before that were filled with enough snow days to keep them in school until July (Here’s your red, white & blue outfit, kids. Enjoy your class Fourth of July Party!). Trying to get two teenagers up & out the door on a good day is work enough. Today involved trumpets & a system of weights & pulleys to hoist them out of bed & on their way.

The rest of today’s schedule was:

  • 8:30 am – 5 pm: Woooooooooooooooooork – which was the Monday of all Mondays.
  • 5:30 pm: Get The Boy. Bring him to band practice
  • 6 pm: Get The Girl. Bring her to volunteer program kick off event
  • 6:30 pm: Bring The Boy home
  • 7:15 pm: Bring The Girl home
  • 7:30 pm: Make dinner
  • 8 pm: Ignore laundry
  • 8:05 pm: Open wine
  • 8:06 pm: Ignore world

The Girl’s volunteer kick off event was for a group that run a number of homeless shelters & low-cost housing in our city. She will be working with an after school program for homeless kids. When I went to pick her up from the kick off event, she was nowhere to be found. My heart sank. She has been struggling with anxiety & depression in the past few months & my first thought was that she got overwhelmed by the amount of moms & kids in the room & was hiding somewhere. Instead, I found her crouched on the floor in the back of the room with a little girl about three years old. They were making shapes out of beads & guessing what the other had made. I watched her for a few minutes then looked around the room. It was filled with moms & kids. Moms like me. Kids like mine. Only we were going home to our big house. Our big, not-so-warm-house-but-only-because-I’m-cheap-and-don’t-want-to-turn-up-the-heat house with the cabinets full of food. They… well, they were not. They were going to one of the designated apartments in the building we were in. Or they were going wherever they could. One woman was in her car with her two kids looking for a laundromat. I offered her quarters & we went on our way.

And I was grateful for everything I have. My job. My home. My kids. My crazy life.

And then I came across this on Facebook….

No... Just No.

And I wanted to scream.

Because I didn’t enjoy my life today. Not remotely. Life took me down today. Life showed me moms who just wanted the best for their kids & couldn’t give it to them. Even in those moments I was feeling grateful I was also feeling like life was harsh & it was hurtful & I wanted to punch it in the throat. Because that’s what life does sometimes. “Enjoy my life today?” I don’t think so, Charlie Brown.

And then it’s topped off with “tomorrow may never come?” For f**k’s sake, really? There’s already enough pressure to “enjoy life today.” Now I have to be concerned that “tomorrow may never come,” too? I’m a reasonably healthy human being. Frankly, I kind of take it for granted that tomorrow IS going to come. It’s true, though – there are occasions where the dairy free, gluten free, vegan who runs marathons drops dead. But for the most part, we’re all going to see tomorrow. (And since it’s 11:57 pm, I think I have a pretty good shot.)

As the lyric goes in the musical “Hamilton” – “Life doesn’t discriminate between the sinners & the saints – it take & it takes & it takes. And we keep living anyway. We rise & we fall & we break & we make our mistakes.” (This guy could sing the phone book & I’d listen to it.)

Sometimes we just have to wait for it. Some days, we can’t just “enjoy our life today” on cue because Charlie Brown tells us to. Some days we have to wait for it. Wait for the better days. Wait to enjoy the day. And that’s okay. It’s okay to feel bad sometimes. It passes. Wait for it.

Even when someone has it worse than you. It passes & you do whatever you can to help while you wait for it.

Even when you know you have nothing to bitch about. It passes.

Wait for it. It’s on its way.

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Ain’t No Rest-Stop for the Wicked

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This old-timey gas pump is in the hallway of the music studio where The Kids take lessons.

The Girl, looking at it closely: “Apparently this is where they fuel up on the Highway to Hell.”

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To Swim or Not To Swim

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This video made me cry today.

 

Swim season is starting again. The Girl’s sport. She took a break after championships last year. She’s not a competitive person by nature unless it involves one-upping her brother & the stress of championships got to her. While she loves to swim & was proud of what she had accomplished, those moments before she had to get on the block & race were her worst. We watched the Olympics together & as we watched Katie Ledecky & Simone Manuel & the other swimmers, The Girl would say, “I almost can’t watch. I’m nervous for them.”

I knew she was on the fence about returning to the sport this season. She misses her friends on the team & truly enjoys swimming, if not competing. I thought seeing these strong women compete in her sport would inspire her to keep going. I thought she would see her own potential as they raced. I told her all about the three swimmers from her very own team that went to the Olympic trials, thinking that news of someone close to home reaching for that gold would inspire her to continue.

In the end, she decided to stop.

And I had to let her make that decision.

After years of being the decision maker, there comes a time when you have to let them decide on their own. It happens gradually. So gradually that I didn’t notice it sneaking up on me. Little by little they start making their own decisions – being their own person, even! When did that happen?! One day you’re laying out their clothes for morning & making them whatever the hell you want for their school lunch. The next, they’re coming downstairs ready for the day with absolutely no help from you & eating whatever they hell they want.

She told her coach.

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The rest of my response goes on to say that she will now go on to rock Health Occupations – the shop she chose as her concentration at her technical high school. Another decision she made all on her own.

She will go on to make many more. Some I won’t agree with, I’m sure. Hell, I don’t entirely agree with this one. It took a lot for me to tell her I was proud of her for making a decision that was right for her when what I wanted to say was, “ARE YOU CRAZY?!? YOU’RE AN AMAZING SWIMMER! DON’T QUIT NOW!”

But as she approaches the second half of her teenage years, I have to hope I’ve done enough to prepare her for a life of making her own decisions.

Because they are no longer mine to make.

She Said What Now?

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The Boy has been taking drum lessons & recently joined a band called The Blast. They’re all about the same age & they have some serious talent going on.

This is The Blast performing “Spiderwebs” by No Doubt at a local festival.

After hearing them practice this particular song one day, I was humming it to myself & sang the line, “It’s all your fault I screen my phone calls.”

The Boy: “That’s what she says?”

Me: “Yes. Why? What did you think she said.”

The Boy: “I thought she said, ‘It’s all your fault I scream my balls off’ & I thought it was a little weird for a kids band.”

Save 5% for Home

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The Girl has chosen Health Occupations as her concentration for technical high school. That means she will graduate from high school as a Certified Nursing Assistant & can start working or go on to further her education in healthcare. (Take that, regular high schools!)

As she finishes up her freshman year, they’re learning the basics of being a CNA…. taking a pulse, checking for respiratory distress, & the all important making a bed. Hey… someone’s gotta do it.

She got a 95% on her bed making evaluation.

I guess she saves the other 5% for home.

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It Happens Sometimes

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Me: “Hey… come get dinner.”

The Kids:

“You cooked dinner?”

“What’s the occasion?”

“Are you feeling okay?”

“What’s next… you’re going to tell us we’re adopted, aren’t you.”

“Not possible. I have Dad’s nose.”

MomDay Mother’s Day

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It’s Mother’s Day. And this year, I kind of wanted to skip it. It’s been a combination of things lately. A new position at work has my brain on overload as I try to learn the ins & outs of the Insurance industry. (Honestly, if you’d told me five years ago that I would find insurance fascinating, I would have laughed at you.) My mom, The Joan, just got back from a week in Arizona visiting my sister, KK, which left me kind of jealous. And frankly, with KK out in Arizona, I miss the old Mother’s Days where The Joan, KK & I would find the most outrageous cards & exchange them around my dining room table while the men folk tried to find something else to do. (There was a flood one year & I think the guys were thrilled to have an excuse to hang out in the basement pumping water.)

I appreciate every kind gesture this year, from the cookout, to the flowers & the gift basket of bath stuff. (BATH STUFF! Seriously a favorite. I haven’t found a body scrub I don’t love.) It’s all beautiful & it’s all amazing.

But I think what’s getting to me most this year is that…..

I feel like a fraud.

I made the mistake of scanning Facebook today. I even tried to find some great pictures of me & The Kids & The Joan to post like everyone else. And I started reading everyone’s posts about their families making them dinner & their handpicked bouquets & their Pinterest-inspired wreath made by their children from discarded Legos & toilet paper tubes. I looked at my children, nestled deep into their electronics in their favorite chairs. And I looked around at my house… it’s a beautiful house… but it’s not a house owned by a person who values housekeeping as a skill set. And I felt like a fraud. Like this idea of “Motherhood” is so overwrought that I will never get it right.

15 years ago, I was handed a bundle of baby girl. There were no instructions. There were only well-meaning people telling me what they thought I should do whether they be friends, family or doctors. So I did it. I fed her. I played with her. I cleaned her after she spit up for the 1,000th time that day. And all the while I felt like somehow, some way, I was supposed to make this bundle into a functional human being. Three years later, I was handed a bundle of baby boy. And if you think you know what to do after having one, God gives you a completely different child & everything that worked with the first one doesn’t remotely work with the second.

I guess my point is…

I’ve been making this shit up as I go along.

For 15 years.

And nothing makes you feel like more of a fraud than to realize that you’ve been just making it up as you go along.

But… and there’s always a but… as The Kids get older, things change. Some for the worse. There’s a lot of teenage attitude. Both of mine have perfected the eye-roll. And we’ve learned some “salty” language as The Girl would call it. (“Seriously, mom. I’m in public school now.”)

But a lot of it’s for the better. Their world views are changing & they’re learning to express themselves & their opinions. And I’m trying to respect that & give them the space to be who they are. And I like to think that making it up as I go along gives me the opportunity to give them that space. The Girl recently had to pick her “shop” for the remainder of her high school career. She goes to a technical high school where they graduate with a degree that can either go on to college or can start a career in their chosen trade. “Are you going to tell me what shop I have to pick?” she asked. “What?! No!” I replied… realizing that there was probably a time in her life where I would have tried to do exactly that.

As I’ve always told The Kids, my job as a mom it to teach them how to live on their own. If I do everything for them, where does that leave them when they venture out? (Except for folding fitted sheets. Screw that. They’re on their own to learn that.) And then I panic. Maybe I haven’t taught them enough. Maybe I’ve been too lax. Should they be cooking dinner on their own now? I have no idea & that’s what gives me the sneaking suspicion that I’m doing it all wrong.

And then I saw this thing going around on social media – the Motherhood Dare. Women are nominated to post a picture that makes them happy or proud to be a mom.

Well I have video. And I like to think that these videos prove that making it up as I go is actually working & gives me the sneaking suspicion that I’m getting something right. These videos show two kids whose eye-rolling & salty language are overshadowed by the ability to persevere.

This is The Girl swimming a 100 freestyle race in her District Championships. And while she didn’t make it to the next round, she worked really hard this year on her sport & that makes me proud.

 

And this is The Boy. He started on drums 8 months ago & was asked to join a band as part of his music school. This is him rocking the drum kit to No Doubt’s “Spiderwebs”. He’s had eight weeks to learn 10 songs before their first public performance. And he’s crushing it. And that makes me proud.

 

Maybe… just maybe… this making it up as I go along thing IS actually working.

I’ll keep you posted.