One week

26 Aug

One week until school starts. Maura is ready. Maura is beyond ready. Maura is Ready Freddy.

However, Maura doesn’t quite grasp the concept of “One week.”

I should be one of those moms who has a bunch of fun adventures lined up so every day is special and not boring. But I’m tired. This summer has sucked my brain out and left it in the sun to shrivel up in the sun like any plant I bring into the house. I’ve been trying to take care of the rest of life plus all the post-moving stuff and of course, injuring myself here and there, and there are three other teens in the house that require my attention every so often. You know, when Maura’s not breaking glass, finding a way out of the yard, or protesting because I went to Starbucks when I said we were going to Starbucks.

The nerve of me!

So yeah kid, I cry too a little as I tell you it’s still one more week until school. I know you can’t wait. You loved your middle school orientation day, and can’t wait to get back there. I can’t wait for you to go either – not because you’re driving me nuts, but because I can see that you are bored, and you need more, and I am just not up for that task at this point.

One more week. We can get through this.


The summer of my discontent

10 Aug

I don’t know if I’ve ever been eager for a summer to end in my life.  But here I am, a faux grown-up on my best day, counting down the days until school starts (21).

Again, this isn’t my usual M.O.  I don’t try to make time rush – I’m old enough to know time does fly and to be happy with the time we’re in right now.  So why the attitude?

This summer’s sort of been…meh.

It’s been about moving.  And packing.  And unpacking.  And cleaning.  And organzing. And teenagers slothing about.  And injuries, so that I have to sloth about and then find myself in a weird position of daydreaming about being able to unpack and organize and clean.

I’m not wishing for excitement – I’m too smart for that.  I’m just saying that the most exciting thing that’s happened this summer is me trying acupuncture (which, for the record, is some sort of magical mojo for the body. It’s bizarre and works. Don’t ask me how, all I know is I went in after falling and wrenching my shoulder, she poked needles in my leg, and my shoulder stopped hurting. I sprained my hand, she put needles in it, and it improved by 50% the next day.)

But really, that’s sort of been my summer.  Here. Just here, doing some of the stuff – just not the stuff I want to do. I mean, I came up with this great plotline for characters I developed years ago, characters I loved but couldn’t figure out what their purpose was, and just then, one evening – bam! – I figured it all out. Which is actually more exciting than acupuncture. However, I just don’t have time to devote to writing right now because Maura.

This is where someone who’s read too many inspirational memes on Pinterest would be all “NO EXCUSES! Start living your life!”

Yeah…great…watch Maura for me?  She likes to dig in dirt and throw stuff in anger. Good luck.  Wait…where are you going? Come back!

But hey, life isn’t always about it being fabulous and fun.  Sometimes, there’s meh summers,  just okay Christmases, and low-key birthdays.  Sometimes, a good day does involve a meltdown, but it’s good because the melty girl recovered quickly and you were still able to have a great outing. Sometimes life means having that excuse, but knowing that it’s only an excuse for a couple more weeks, then you can start tackling those big goals.

Meanwhile, I’m going to continue watching Phineas and Ferb with Maura…

The Lord wants me to be left handed

3 Aug

In this house, we now have this huge walk-in closet.  Seriously, it’s ridiculous.  It is bigger than Sean’s bedroom in Ireland (okay, low bar.) The only catch to this is that it was an addition to an addition, and has a bit of a moisture problem (not deadly mold, but the “Hi, we live in the Pacific North Wet”).  I bought a little closet dehumidifier to help things out, and decided to put it up on the back corner shelf, where it was best suited.

Meanwhile, Maura has also decided that my closet is awesome.  Awesome to play in, awesome to dig through, awesome to check out what’s in the shoe boxes (I’ll give you a hint – shoes), and the suitcases we packed our clothes in and threw into said closet?  Yeah, those are super-awesome to dig through.

As I’ve had my right hand all wrapped up and trying to heal, I haven’t gotten around to hanging clothes up or organizing the closet.  But I did go ahead and buy that dehumidifier thing, and decided last night to put it on the closet. Then I turned to leave the closet, stepped over a suitcase, got the toe of my flip flop caught on the edge of the open suitcase and a moment later, I was sprawled out on the closet floor (because it’s that big, I had lots of room to fall!)

The good news is – I didn’t catch myself with my poor still healing hand.

The bad news is – my right elbow now really hurts.

Also, if a mom falls in her closet, no one hears it.  Which was nice, I got to lay there in peace, catch my breath, and mutter some curse words before hefting myself back out to the living room, where all the action was.

Then I failed a bit because one teen asked me about something, and I’m all “Sorry, can’t answer you right now, I’m feeling a bit gross from hitting the ground with my body.” and left the room again to be pathetic alone.  Except my husband came and asked what happened and I told him how I fell down and got covered in booboos, so he got me ice for my elbow and some Advil and was all “Dang that looks like it hurts!” when he saw where I got rug burn on my elbow (which, ironically, wasn’t made by a rug, but by laminate flooring.)

Meanwhile, the right side of my body, especially from the shoulder down, is cursing at me and my house is going to remain in a cluttered state because I still haven’t mastered the use of my left hand.

Obviously I should stop trying to unpack and settle my house and stick to laying about sipping sangrias.


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