She died

For six days I had listened to her breathe, and wondered how much longer I would have her.   She was already slipping away, but I could still hold her hand and kiss her cheek.  So I let that be a positive.  (Since her diagnosis on September 24th, the criteria for what I considered "good" had changed dramatically.)   I constantly told her that I loved her.  

Sometimes I wanted it to be over for her.  For all of us.  It was like she had a foot in both worlds, but I knew there was no going backwards so I almost wanted to just pull the band-aid off and start dealing with the devastation.  Everything hurt so damn much.

I gave her pain meds every hour to keep her comfortable.  She didn't talk much, but we found out that she listened.  She'd occasionally laugh at something Adam and I said.  She seemed peaceful.  The part of me that knew she was going to die wanted her to go find Dan and be happy again.  My mom was always so full of joy, always smiling and laughing.  I wanted her to have that back.  The other part of me wanted to touch her arm while it was still warm and just rest my head on her forever.

On the morning of June 8th I woke up suddenly at 6:15 and just started watching her from where I was laying.  I knew she was leaving us.   She took her last breath at 6:50am, with Adam and I crying on either side of her.   Johnny walked in, saw what happened and said, "Babe, you should have called me."  He was so sad for me.  And all I could say was, "I didn't know.  It happened so fast." 

I was so broken.  I couldn't think.  The Hospice nurse showed up and called the funeral home.  I vividly remember the two burly men who came to pick up her body.  I remember walking into the apartment with them and saying, "This is my mom, Diane," and then I realized I would never say that again and I just started to cry.  For nine months I had dreaded this day, and here we were.  

So that's what it was like to have my mom die.  June 8, 2021.

Baby goes to high school - WTF

So I dropped Aidan off at high school today.  It was traumatic, for me.  Remember when you took them to preschool, and they tell you that if they start to cry when you leave you should just quickly walk out because they will be fine in a matter of minutes?   Well, I am here to tell you that that particular strategy doesn't work in reverse.  But I didn't cry.  Just more an overwhelming sadness.  And then Ava is chiming in from the backseat:

"Wow, if I feel this sad seeing him go, you just must want to bawl."

At least that made me laugh.  

You see Aidan isn't just going to high school.  I am far too sensitive and melodramatic for that.  In the course of 24 hours yesterday I mentally graduated all of my kids, became widowed (Sorry, babe), and was wandering through my house (alone) wondering where my life went.  With a cat.

Can you say spiraling???  (And by the way, I know all the silver linings.  I am just not there yet.  When I'm ready to see the positive and the good, I will rise like a phoenix from the ashes.  But in the meantime, I need to wallow with my feelings.  And write things.)  So stop trying to cheer me up.  Commiserate, or grab some popcorn and enjoy the show.

The kids know I'm feeling all the "firsts", and they torment me for it.  They're sooo like my siblings in this way.  Inappropriate, sadistic, hilarious senses of humor.   All three of them ganged up on me two days ago.  From the backseat they were calling mean things to me, then they'd cackle like hens as they made each other laugh.

"Just think Mom, next year you will have TWO kids in high school, and one in middle school!"

"Are you gonna cry when Aidan goes to college in four years??"

"After Aidan goes to college, me and Ava will BOTH be in high school!"

(On a serious note, in 4 years I will be sending one to college, and have a senior and a freshman.   I think I will need a sponsor by then.  You know, like AA.  Taking applications.)

I didn't let them see me cry, though.  I learned with my brothers that you don't show weakness when you're being teased mercilessly.  Instead I told them that once they all left home I would probably buy a puppy.  (Like the one they want now, and I constantly say no to.)

So I have one more to drop off today - in the 5th grade.  That will be okay.  And I will try not to remember that when I dropped Aidan off this morning he kissed me (#winning), and then ran to catch up with Ty who was right in front of us in the car line.   Aidan met Ty the first day of preschool and declared him his bestie because they had matching Nike's.  And now they're walking into high school together for orientation.

Life is just ridiculous.

Rated: Inappropriate

I have been in a funk this week.

I went on an amazing vacation to Jamaica with my husband and two of my best friends, and I was sure I would recharge.  We were 100% relaxed.  We swam, we sunned, we ate, we drank, we danced...I was so sure that I would come home and attack life! 

But, no.

Instead I came home to no routine, and in order to be my best self, I need routine. 

My kids have made it school ONE day this week.   And that's okay.  I love not having to wake up people up, drive people to and from school, etc.   But that meant I didn't make it to the gym, and I took them to lunch and ate too much, and then I took a nap because that's what you do on snow days.  So now it's Thursday and I am a shell of my normal self.  My goal this afternoon is to buckle down and work.....after I blog.  Because I just cannot be expected to concentrate when I have so many thoughts swirling in my head.

Hey, so I had a bikini wax before my trip.  It was my first one ever.  It was HORRIBLE.  And before I say anymore, here is my disclaimer:

Dad?  Dan?  Brothers?   Men?  Stop reading now.  You don't want to know anymore than this.  Close out this link and WALK AWAY.

So I went to an esthetician that I know, and this fact alone blew my friends' minds.  Apparently they thought this would be easier with a stranger?  It's kind of become a joke in my friends' circle that I'm not particularly modest when it comes to nudity.  But I'm a nurse.  I have seen hundreds, if not thousands, of naked people in my life, and it's just not a thing for me.  It's science.  Biology.  Whatev's.  And my esthetician is a professional.  Surely, I couldn't shock her?

Except that I am afraid I may have shocked her.

She gave me these paper underwear to wear?  And I must have looked confused when I asked why I needed these if I wanted a brazilian?   So we had to go over the definition of a brazilian, and what I did and did not want, and what she did and did not do.  And at this point I am thinking, 'Does everyone else in this small town just wear the paper panties and be quiet?  Am I like the freakiest person in my zip code?'  

No, not embarrassing at all.  (Insert eye roll)  At this point, why even care about nudity?  I think I need to be worrying about my reputation.  Except I really wasn't too embarrassed.  She's so laid back and nice.  We chatted the whole time.  I really do adore her.  I was just hoping that she did like ten of these a day, so I would blend in. But I don't think so.  Everyone else is apparently just there for their eyebrows. 

So to get started, you have to lay on the table, and bend one leg up like a frog, and then the hot wax is applied to a small area, and then it is removed....over and over again. 

Now.  Let's get down to details.  #*@! hurts.
It hurts really bad.
I wanted to yell at every woman who has ever had this done and not told me that it would be less painful to pull my fingernails off with pliers.  (Talking to you, Sis!)
Shame on ALL OF YOU for keeping this torture a secret.

When I left it was a full 24 hours before I could walk normally or wear underwear.  It felt like a sunburn of epic proportions in the most delicate area you have.  Not so good.

But I will probably go back.  This is the paradox of me.  Because it's really nice not to have to worry about maintenance care.  Think I will do under my arms, too.  Legs?  Maybe. 

OR, maybe I should save up and do laser hair removal for my whole body?   Then I can claim back those few minutes a day, and I won't need to retrieve my time in other areas; like in the kitchen with Blue Apron and Hello Fresh?

Do you see what having a busy schedule does to one's sanity?   I will endure extreme pain in order to save 10 minutes a day.  This is so not okay women of the 21st century.  I am kind of thinking maybe I should look to cut corners elsewhere; club sports, sleep, social media?  Just throwing out a few ideas.

I am going to figure out how to survive and thrive in this super busy life I have carved out for myself.  I really am. 

Mall Rat No More

I have a confession.  I used to be a "mall girl".  From about 1995 to 2008, I went to the mall an embarrassing number of times.  Johnny and I had many "dates" that involved shopping and walking around the mall.  And when I was 24 I remember how happy I was when I moved into Bentley Place apartments at 96th & Quivira because I could be at Oak Park Mall in two minutes. 

I am not sure I have ever typed a more humiliating sentence.

My mall days continued into motherhood.  I had a double stroller, and I drug Aidan and Ava to the mall on a weekly basis, at least.  Where else could I walk for miles, have public restrooms for changing diapers, and see other adults?  It was a haven.  Babies hungry?  Oh, well Nordstrom's has a lounge area I could nurse in.  When they were older I would take them to Panera and then let them gnaw on a bagle the size of a small tire, drool puddling into their stroller trays.  We would walk around until nap time or bed time, and then I knew it was safe to go home.

Then came Cooper.

By 2008 I had more children than I had hands or seats in my stroller.  Mall days came to a screeching halt.  And it is with great pride that I report that I never missed it.  I adapted to life on the outside; Target, Wal Mart, being trapped in my home for days...  It was a precious time, and I look back on it with great memories.  Mall days were over.

So that brings me to yesterday.  I returned to Oak Park Mall.  In the last ten years I could probably count all of the trips I had made there on one hand, and those trips were never alone.  But I need a swimsuit, and not many stores have them out yet.  So I chose a non-busy time of day, about 11:00 on a Thursday, and I entered through Nordstrom's.  The employees were super nice and middle-aged, but the selection was poor.  And the prices would have made me sick anyway.  So on to Victoria's Secret.  I love Victoria's Secret's underwear.  They are still the only kind I buy; they aren't that expensive, and they make me feel happy.  Even Mandy, the 23 year-old "helping" me was a doll.  (But, seriously?  No one really needs help selecting panties, Mandy.  Go away.)

I think my first mistake was going in to "Pink".   For those of you unfamiliar, Pink is Victoria Secret's younger sister?  I don't spend a lot of time researching retail, but I am pretty sure if "Pink" had a tagline it would be "slutty underwear for your daughter".  Which brings me to my second mistake; I keep forgetting I am not 25.  But, my favorite underwear were 5 for $28.  However, my choices were limited to "Cheekie Hipsters", "Thongs", and "Boy Shorts".   Let me break this down for all you 40-somethings like myself.

Cheekie Hipsters - Half of your ass hangs out.  This looks adorable on anorexic waifs.  And thanks to the 500 squats I probably do in a week I could probably pull them off if they were comfortable---except my muffin top might hang down and cover the cute little waistband....hmm...next.

Thongs - Single women pretend these are comfortable.  I used to be one of them.  This is a big, fat lie.  Moving on.

Boy Shorts - Well boy shorts, you won by default.  Except, who is designing you?  I walked away with one pair of underwear that had cartoon drawings of pizza all over them.  I ask you, who associates underwear with pizza??? Well, I had to buy them, because one of the other pairs had these words printed across the butt, "I Call The Shots".

Oh, my lord.  "I Call The Shots".  I just don't even know where to go with that.  If you need to write affirmations on your panties so that he will know YOU are in charge, the jig is up.  You have no power, Sister.  Might as well wear a thong.  The women who really call the shots are crawling in to bed wearing Hanes Her Way up to their belly button and grabbing the remote right out of his hands.

Also, retail has become high tech.  I needed some assistance finding a strapless bra so I sought out a little sales girl dressed like a dominatrix.  A dominatrix with a headset.  She would occasionally talk into the headset while holding her ear piece with great urgency, "Ingrid? Noelle?  Can you style a customer stat?"  I just stared in amazement.  First of all, OF COURSE Victoria's Secret employs "Ingrid" and "Noelle".  Ingrid and Noelle were meant to wear the required messy bun, heels, and red lipstick while clicking around that store with headsets on like air traffic controllers.  If  you name your daughter Ingrid or Noelle, you have decided for her that she will never work in the Food Court at Panda Express with "Joanie".

I got out of Victoria's Secret with my pride intact, barely, but the whole experience was kind of intimidating.  I am a grown up, with a list full of life experiences and a college degree.  When did the mall become kind of scary?  All of the stores are now designed to look like fancy galleries, lots of open spaces, and sales people that pounce on you the minute you step in to look at a $7 bath bomb.
Maybe this is the reason women my age now shop at Target and in the cyber world, Amazon Prime. We have very little down time, and who wants to make underwear shopping so complicated?  Life is exhausting lately.  I want more wine, more time with girlfriends, more quiet nights at home.  More special nights with me and a latte at Target.  Target makes me feel relaxed.  Target is indulgence shopping with great clearance prices, AND you can pick up a loaf of bread or a gallon of milk.   Any time you come home with a grocery item a trip feels validated.

But, I am now the owner of pizza panties.  So, there's that.

Big Goals

My friends and I have been kicking around some long term goals this last week.  We have settled on Waco, Texas.  We are going to do a 70.3 there this fall, and then in November head to Tempe, Arizona and volunteer to be on the course for Ironman Arizona.  Volunteering at an Ironman has always been something we have wanted to do.  It is such an important job.  Volunteers are not just necessary to make the event happen, but they individually help each athlete get through the day.  And, we have heard it's a great course, and it is really hard to get a registration.  But you can register early if you volunteer.  Because we are considering another full Ironman in 2019.  All 140.6 miles.  Yay, us?  I mean, yay us!!!

I have spent a lot of time in my own head, asking myself two questions, 'Why?', and 'Is this okay?'  The "why" is a lot easier to answer then the latter.

Why would I keep doing triathlons, much less a really big one, when I am not sure I enjoy them?  During every single triathlon I did last year, I swore it would be my last.  Then after I got in the car on the way  home I would change my mind.  I was proud of myself.  I felt accomplished.  Triathlons are hard.  Open water swimming with other people pummeling you is hard.  Pushing it on the bike, as opposed to a leisurely ride, is hard.  And running without music and alone is just not that fun.

Then why do I feel so alive when it's over?  I don't quite fully understand it.  Battling your own thoughts and pushing yourself past anything you "feel" like doing is a challenge.  And every time I complete a race I ought to feel like I have mastered it, but something in me wants to do it better the next time.  Not necessarily do the race better, but control my emotions and thoughts in a more positive way.  I want to "beat" my own thoughts.  I want to silence the negative voice in my head that wants to rest or quit.  I want to take the anxiety I can feel at times during a race and change it into excitement.  I don't crave comfort or security as much as I crave being my very best self, and it turns out that my "self" can also be my own worst enemy if I listen to the negative voices in my head.

I do love to train.  I love discipline and schedules.  I have said it before, but I don't do moderation.  If I can't lay on a couch and eat bowl after bowl of ice cream I might as well go bike 80 miles with my friends.  I love long triathlons more than sprints.  Sprint triathlons are typically a 500 meter swim, a 12 to 20 mile bike ride, and a 5K run.  These kind of races make me push my pace and be out of my comfort zone.  I don't care for this.  I don't like feeling out of breath with my heart racing for 1 to 2 hours.   But endurance is different.  Endurance relies on training, but also with a much larger mental component.  You don't have to be the fastest, you just have to not give up.  You have to settle in to a pace that is semi-comfortable and just not quit.  I like this.  I like it a lot.

So that's "why" I want to do this.   Now, "Is this okay?" comes from a desire not to die and leave my children.  For real.  Aidan, Ava, and Cooper are the reason I was born.  I am most likely not going to die swimming or running.  And I am probably not going to die during a controlled race.  But training on the bike is a risk.   I have had a few bad accidents that were my fault, or related to biking too close in a pack, that is not what I am concerned about.  But I cannot control traffic.  And getting hit by a car is real threat.  And the more I train, the longer hours I spend on the road, the more I increase that risk.  This is the worst part of cycling, knowing that something I love is dangerous.  (PSA:  Please pass cyclists like you love them!)

I could quit.  That would ensure that I never get hurt.  But is that how we are supposed to live life?  Seriously.  I cannot live life with the only goal to stay alive as long as possible.  If that were truly my intent I would also have to quit riding in cars.  Because after all, I could get into a car accident and die.  Statistically, it's the most dangerous thing that we do, and we do it every day.  And it could be argued that we have to ride in cars to function in society, but I don't have to cycle.   True.  I also don't have to read, write, make friends, and love my people.  But it's who I am.  It's what I feel called in my soul to do.  It's why I am here.  And when you feel compelled to do something that challenges you physically and mentally in such a big way....well, there has to be a reason for that.   I have never felt more alive than I did that day at Ironman Louisville.  I felt so close to God.  I felt exhilarated all day.  Isn't that the point of living?  To chase that feeling?  Or is the point to live the safest life possible, not use my body, not challenge my mind, and die anyway?  I never want to be the person who thinks playing it cautious and safe is the only way.  I want to be the woman who stays in close contact with God through prayer, follows her heart, and isn't afraid of risks.  That's the kind of people I want to raise, so that's the kind of person I need to be.

I also love the camaraderie between my friends and I during these events.  I could write volumes about our training stories, and they are filled with so much laughter.  Common suffering strengthens bonds -- even if it's self-inflicted and recreational.  Some of my happiest days are long bike rides with a group of 5 or 6 of us, stopping at Casey's to eat something salty, parking our bikes at little diners and tromping in to eat with our bike cleats on, and seeing how fast we can change a flat tire.  We were semi-responsible for a road closure once when we called "someone" for help after Jen cut her hand and his car caught fire.  And I even love the calm days when we just bike to the pool in Bonner, swim for awhile, and then bike home.  It reminds me of childhood....well, if I had been allowed to bike on busy streets, but you know what I mean.

Athletic events aren't everyone's cup of tea, but what do you wish you could do?  What kind of goal would you set for yourself if you knew you could not fail?   I am the biggest proponent ever of having your own life outside of your family's.  I adore my children, they are my number one priority, but they are going to leave someday, and I cannot have made my life all about them.  That might sound honorable or sacrificial, but it's also setting myself up to be unhappy.  I was "Cori" 28 years before I met my first child.  I will be "Cori" when Aidan, Ava, and Cooper grow up and move away.  God gave me my own dreams, gifts, and strengths to develop and chase after that are separate from my children.  So I need to keep doing things, and trying to do new things, to insure that I have a life, my own life.  Not to mention, it is nothing but beneficial to the three little squatters if they realize that I do not just exist to make them meals and chauffeur them.

Do not feel guilty to carve out time for yourself, even at the risk (gasp!) of missing a child's activity occasionally.  It has taken me three children and several years to finally get to the point where I do not sit at practice and watch every single move they make.  Want to know why?  BECAUSE IT'S BORING.  I have things to do.  And I might be one of the only slacker parents not there, but am I worried about this?  No.  It would be a different story if our children's activities were few and far between, but I know we have something going on every night of the week.  I cannot wait for time to open up for me on our schedule, I have to take it.    I think I will stop here.  I have a whole different blog in my head for "Mommy Guilt".  I could write books on that dangerous phenomenon.  Have a fabulous Wednesday.  Peace and love.

TEN

Cooper turns 10 in about a week.  So I spent the morning looking at a few older blogs about his first year of life.  I am so glad that I recorded specific things about his personality as a toddler, because my memory is shot to hell.   No one ever warns you about that.  I remember NOTHING except survival from the first years of my children's existence.  Sleep deprivation will do that to you.  The three Blessings were born within a four year span, and I am not exaggerating even a little when I say that I know I went 5 or 6 years without sleeping more than 4 hours in a row.  Some people can live like that.  I am not one of those people.

So here is my tribute to my 10 year-old (almost) birthday boy.  Because I love you, Coop.  And also because I work from home, I have some ADD, and it's really hard to buckle down and be responsible on a "Snow Day", even for parents.  It's the perfect storm.

Dear Cooper Rex,

You may be the most responsible person in this house.  Your dad is a close 2nd.  Yesterday you were watching me load a few dishes into the dishwasher and you confessed that you had a few dirty dishes in your room but that you were scared to bring them down, and that this had been weighing heavily on you rmind.   This is very uncharacteristic of the tidiest kid in this house.  Aidan and Ava could open a restaurant with all of the dishes probably  hiding in their rooms, but not you.    So I said, "How about I grant you amnesty and you bring them all down right now?"  You returned with a healthy stack and said, "I have wanted to bring these down for days, but I have a reputation to uphold.  So I have been trying to find a solution."   So I explained that we did not expect you to be perfect, that it is okay to be a normal kid. (I was being so politically correct that I kind of want to vomit just typing that.)  But your dad, the Yin to my Yang, told you that next time to just unload them in Aidan's room and no one would be the wiser.  (Insert HUGE eye roll.  You loved this idea.)

I love how you pat my arm and hug me multiple times a day.   I also love that you are the ONLY person in this house who remembers the name of the newspaper column I had in the 7th grade.  Cori's Corner.  (Shut up, haters.)  This is just further proof that you are the only person who listens to my boring stories, as I have long suspected.

Thank you for being honest about my new sunglasses.  Ava said they were "different".  Aidan had zero opinion.  You said, "Take those off.  Now.  They don't suit you."   I am a girl who likes the truth.  Much respect, Rex.

I am still the only one who calls you by your middle name.  I think you like it.  It's our thing.  You were named after my Grandpa Rex.  He would have adored you.

And I still cannot say "no" to you, just like when you were little, because  you are SO FUNNY!   I mean, if I were shopping with anyone else and they begged for a $5 Starbucks drink I would just say, "Not today."  But when a little boy dons an English accent and says, "Mother, we should have a cup of merry?"   Seriously.  I had to laugh.  I'm just glad you didn't ask me to rob a bank with you or I would be in an orange jumpsuit right now.

THANK YOU for singing and rapping with me in the car.  You don't know this yet, but Aidan is right.  I am a weird mom.  But you make me feel young and less weird.

I do need to tell you, though.  You are not the third person in our marriage.  So when you're in the backseat, and we're trouble shooting our day, or discussing something important, kindly put your headphones on BOTH ears.  We're wise to your tricks now.   You chimed in one too many times and we caught on.

But seriously, thanks for being your dad's playmate, and learning to drive his tractor.  It takes a lot of pressure off of me.  I never see Dad out doing a chore without a little boy following behind.  And you are a worker.  I am so proud of your desire to be independent and take care of things around the house.

I also love that you're always trying to figure out adulthood.  How much does a house cost?  What about insurance?  Can you bundle your home, auto, and life insurance?  (That question caught me off guard.)  You will be successful at whatever you do.  I don't doubt it for a second.  And I am quite sure you may be the only 4th grader who treats Stuco like a job.  I now know that a new carousel will cost your school $15,000, BUT, that doesn't include shipping.   I was totally serious when I said that the principal should let you call the company and negotiate shipping.  You could do it.

You completed our family, Coop.  My soul exhaled the day you were born.  This has been the best decade of my life.

All my heart,
Mom

Live with Intention

I hate January.

I have been cold for about 8 days now.  The temperature in my house is a brisk 64 degrees.  And if you know me, one of the things that I can be very whiny about is being cold.  I just shut down.  I want to huddle under blankets, take hot baths, sleep.  It is not a good thing.

This is why I have always embraced New Year's resolutions.  It keeps my mind occupied during a bleak time, when it is dark outside by 5:00.  Because I am a girl who needs to be outside.  And this month wants to destroy the best in me.  So, I try and trick myself into thinking that there is something brewing on the horizon that is life-changing.  

But this year my mind was in a different place.  Instead of a resolution with a long term goal, I decided that I want to live each day intentionally.  I want to make every moment and every relationship count.  I want to live in a way that I don't put things off for "someday".  I want to say what I think, live my beliefs, and find joy and beauty everywhere, even in the incredibly mundane everyday tasks.    Here's what I am thinking this will look like:

1.  Eat warm, healthy food.

2.  Keep my space heater under my desk on any time I am working.  I like warm feet.  Also, keep a throw blanket under my desk.

3.  Light a candle any time I have to sit down and read or write.

4.  Seek out inspirational podcasts to listen to while I am chauffeuring my kids to their sports and activities.  

5.  Read part of a fiction book every day.  I love to read.  But I gravitate towards nonfiction.  There is just so much that I don't know in this world!  I always feel like I don't have enough time to learn it all!  But when I read nonfiction my mind never turns off.  And sometimes my mind needs to be quiet.  Enter:  Chick Lit.

6.  Try new kinds of coffee.  I have been buying variety packs of K-Cups.  See?  Making coffee adventurous!

7.  Make an attempt to always work out with friends.  This is where we get a lot of our face time.  I work out about 4 days a week on average?  Trying to increase that to 6 days a week, but if I get busy I rewrite my own rules all of the time.  I don't mind running alone, but anything else is just not as much fun.

8.  Talk to people I don't know.  This one comes pretty easily to me, but sometimes when I am in a funk I dodge it.  It becomes too easy to just live in my own four little walls and ignore people.  We really, really, REALLY need to tether ourselves to each other.  Sometimes I wish I lived in a big community full of tiny houses that all centered around a firepit, and people had real community.  Everyone talked, helped each other, shared each others' burdens, learned new things from each other...No one stayed to themselves.  Doesn't that sound beautiful?  My husband would run screaming from this daydream of mine, but I may start a commune someday....Ha.

9.  Nourish children and animals.

10. Wear lotion and perfume constantly so I like the smells surrounding me.

11. Be still sometimes.  Even just a few minutes a day.  No talking, no listening, no electronics, no sleeping, just listen to my own breathing.  I don't think I can hear from God until I remember to tune out the noise from the world.

12.  Take my nieces and nephews randomly and create experiences with them.  

13.  Return phone calls to decrease stress.

14.  Keep beautiful blankets on my couch.  Build a fire every night that we are home, and lay under those blankets.  Read, watch TV, talk, whatever.  No chores allowed.  Dishes dirty?  Who cares.  

15.  Keep polish on my nails because it makes me happy.  (Don't look at my nails today.)

16.  Less talking, more listening.

17.  Take stock of who in my world might need a prayer and a meal, and then give them both.

18.  Send random encouraging texts.

19.  Plan activities that make me laugh.

20.  Listen to favorite movies and TV shows while cooking dinner.

21.  Read in a bubble bath every single evening.

22.  Eat lunch with Coop at school when he asks.  

23.  Work a puzzle.  

24.  Hug and kiss every one of my kids (and my husband) multiple times a day.  Seriously.  This can't be done enough.

25.  Take the kids to the library.

26.  Really enjoy watching my child play whatever sport they are playing.  Be thankful that they are healthy enough to do so.  Never worry about their performance.

27.  Take a nap when I can.

28.  Find a new Netflix show to binge on with Johnny.

29.  Remove clutter.  

30.  Wash car more often.  Vacuum it.  Clean cars make people happy.

Okay, I am going to stop for now.  I think I could go on all day.  Time to get busy with my day.  Peace, love, and kisses.

Wrap Up

Yesterday was our 17th wedding anniversary, and that has me thinking about registries.  Some of the things that we registered for were "wins".  The Pier 1 dishes are still in the cabinets, and the enamel is starting to show wear, but they had a good run.  I still like the color of towels we chose, even though they have some holes and loose threads here and there.  The silverware is still kicking it, too.  At least the pieces that the children haven't thrown into the trash when they weren't paying attention.

But why did I register for champagne flutes?   No, 25 year old Cori.   You will never ever use these.  However, you should register for more than 12 wine glasses.  You are going to drink more after you have children, and those things break easily.  And someday you will have a Jerk Cat who will knock them off of the counter intentionally, (three last week).

LUGGAGE.  Register for luggage.  And while I'm on that topic, travel as much as you can afford to.  That money could always be saved and used for more sensible things, like college for children, blah blah blah.  But here's the deal.  Go anyway.   You will not always be young and healthy enough to do this, and you will never regret the experiences.

I feel like I am an old woman giving advice to "young people", and I'm only 43, but over half of my life is over and this is actually something I think about a lot.  Do you pick a word for each year?  A word to aspire to?  To keep you focused?   This year my word is "Intentional".  Every day I am going to try and live intentionally.  No going through the motions.  Find joy and beauty everywhere, be kinder than necessary, unless I am being mean, and most of all, pay attention!  I just want to soak up every minute of this life.

The Lieutenant and I have spent the last year trying to restructure our relationship.  We started off a couple, turned into a family, and now we're trying to figure out how to be a couple in a family, if that makes sense.  Our lives cannot only be about the children, their activities, their goals, etc.  For about two years now we have had regular date nights.  I have zero guilt telling my kids to make a sandwich because their dad and I are going out alone.  This is at least a weekly thing.  We run errands alone any chance we get as well, when we can shake Cooper, that is.  Coop thinks he is the third person in our marriage.  It took us awhile to realize that when Coop is wearing headphones in the car he leaves one ear bud out so that he can still hear us.  He rarely chimes in, he is just a little sponge, soaking up all of the Intel to do who knows what with at some inopportune time.

So here is to 2018.  No specific resolutions this year, just a promise to pay attention and respect every moment of every day.

Avoid the Meltdown

I started the Christmas meltdown yesterday.  I try REALLY hard not to go to an ugly place this holy time of year, but there is a lot of pressure and stress.  My "to do" list is long, and it is literally waking me up at night.  So while the family was at school and work, I went to Target.  It was crowded, and I was shopping for someone that I barely know, which always annoys me anyway.  (There are a lot of obligatory gifts this time of year.)  Anyway, I picked something out, called my husband to report my progress, and I think I said something like, "I bought (fill in name of someone you've met, like, twice) a (fill in gift that seems somewhat generic yet still nice).  AND I DON'T CARE IF __ LIKES IT OR NOT!  IT WAS NICE OF US TO BUY THIS!!"

Aren't I precious?  And Christ-like?

That was not even a full throw down, those were just rumblings in my dark and ugly soul.  But I recognized it immediately.  Been there, done that.  The best meltdown might have been Christmas of 2000.   Johnny and I got married on December 30th.  I had always wanted a Christmasy wedding.  I still remember my colors were "wine and ivory".  It was in the evening, there were a lot of candles, and white poinsettias....I had a vision, you see?
My grandmother had gotten married December 27th, and she tried to warn me that I did not want to put my wedding anniversary that close to Christmas.  But I ignored her advice.  I had a vision, people!!!!
I remember laying on Johnny's chest, crying my eyes out, about a week before Christmas.  The stress of working full-time, Christmas shopping, wedding planning...it was about to break me.  When you read my dialogue, please paint the full picture.  Hair a mess.  Snot running down face.  Eyes red and swollen.  Sobbing and gasping.  "I don't know why you even...(hiccup)...want to marry me!  I am not fun anymore!  All I do is...(hiccup)...cry and I can't do everything I need to do!"  Johnny was super sweet.  He let me fall apart, and then put me back together somehow.  Because that is his lot in life.

But with age comes wisdom.  So I am stopping this crazy train today.  I am making a quick list of things I can do to lessen my stress, and maybe this will help you as well.  I am also going to make a quick gratitude list of what is helping me cope so that I remember to keep doing these things.  What I am NOT going to do, is make a list of what I need to change about myself because that would be more stress.  I do not need more work right now.

What is Not Done Yet:

1.  Christmas Cards not yet created or sent.
This is a big deal to me.  I don't want to let this one go.  I am trying to have a photo card every year with the kids in it until they leave home.
Solution:  Forget about it until next week.  I am going to send out a Happy New Year's card instead.

2.  Bake for friends and family.
I don't want to let this go either.  But time is running out.  Ok, so I will get everything else done today and tomorrow, and clear my Saturday.  Bake on Saturday while watching Christmas movies.  (Bonus!  I added a "happy" to a job.)

3.  Clean House.
I will clean what people can see only.  Correction:  My kids will clean what people can see while I wrap gifts.  Because it is not fun to be up super late on Christmas Eve wrapping gifts.

4.  Work Stuff.
I have no imminent deadlines, so I need to call it a week.  I am setting my email to "Call you after Christmas!".

What is Saving My Life Right Now:

1.  Getting a work out in every day.
2.  Lighting candles every single time I have to sit at my desk and do a chore of some kind.
3.  Listening to my favorite podcasts when I have driving errands.
4.  Writing this blog.
5.  Hugging.  I am making a conscious effort to hug everyone in my house multiple times a day.  For real.  Just do this.  It works.
6.  Watching a Christmas movie any time I have a chore: wrapping, cooking, cleaning.  Having it on in the background elevates my mood.
7.  Changing my scentsy frequently.  I am happier when my house smells good.  The End.
8.  Hot bath every night, with a book.
9.  Time alone with God, my Bible, and a cup of coffee every morning.  This should be first.  I try to do this every day, before anyone else wakes up.  And on the days I miss it, like yesterday, a difference can be felt.
10. Looking for beauty:  Look at lights, appreciate ambiance in stores, smile at people, watch either the sunset or sunrise every single day.  (I always do this.  It's important to me.)  Appreciate good food.  Look at art:  I look at paintings and pictures everywhere I go.  Schools, Restaurants, Offices.  I was at Liberty High School last weekend and they had beautiful art work hanging from their ceilings!  Listen to music. 

Now, time for me to start getting things done.  Have an AWESOME day!

Plastic Surgery?

Let's have a candid discussion about getting older.  And I promise this will not end with "Quit worrying, ladies.  What's on the inside is what counts".  We all know that, and we don't need to feel guilty for exploring these topics.

I am 43.  So whether you are 5 years behind me, or 5 years ahead of me, we are about the same age.  I have a habit of texting my 33 year-old sister whenever I hit a new milestone regarding getting older.  

Examples of such texts:

In case you were wondering, 42 is the age when you start rethinking V-neck t-shirts because your chest starts to age.   Did you know you need to sunscreen and moisturize your chest?  I was warned about my neck.  I have taken care of that thing since I was 14.  But dammit, no one told me to go lower!

(She responded that her co-worker, who is even older than me, told her we would also get vertical wrinkles on our chest, too!  So I googled this, and it's the truth.  I have now taken to sleeping more on my back.  Supposed to slow the progression of said wrinkles.)

I try to tell my sister these things, because no one likes unpleasant surprises.  And what else am I going to do?  It is what it is.  But the best part about getting older is that we are all doing it together.  However, I can't decide if I am going to be an "aging gracefully" kind of woman, or a "do you think she's had work" kind of woman.   

So far I am young enough that I just spend a lot of money taking care of my skin.  Being a nurse, I have a healthy fear of elective surgical procedures, so I really do not see that in my future.  Will I ever embrace silver hair?  Not likely.  Why?  Why would I do that?  Hair color is so inexpensive and it makes me happy to not have silver hair.

 I did have a few spider veins removed once by injection.  That was slightly less painful than having a baby.  Here's a free tip.  If you go in for any kind of procedure, and they hand you stress balls to squeeze when things are "uncomfortable", you should probably ask if there is an anesthetic available.  Because I found out later that most people have one during that procedure.  (That was really not cool, Groupon.)

Botox is really popular with a lot of women that I know.  This is on my "maybe" list.  I am sure it wouldn't hurt me now, but I worry more about the fat pads under my eyes.  Where did they go?  I feel like they disappeared in my early 30's when I had 3 children in 4 years.  I did not get more than 4 hours of uninterrupted sleep for 5 years.  Chronic sleep deprivation is bad.  (See?  I will not insert any statement here like, 'But being a mother is worth it!'  Do not buy into making cheesy statements to avoid guilt for speaking the truth.  Everyone knows that we love our children, but let's be honest, they ruin bodies.  It's okay.  Well, it kind of sucks, but what do you do?  Now, onward...)

Face lift?  Eh, again with the surgery, probably not.  But one of those super expensive facials where they put some kind of acid on you that removes the top layer of skin on your face and you have to hide in your house for a week while you heal?  Well, YEAH.  Sign me up in about 10 years!  What girl doesn't want a new layer of skin?!

Mommy Makeover?  No.  Too much surgery.  And sounds pricey.  I had never even heard of this until I watched "The Real Housewives of Dallas", and then I had to google it, but it's a thing.  

Eyelid lift?  Maybe.  The "Before" and "After" photos are quite radical.  And that skin is losing some elasticity.  But maybe I could convince my insurance company that my saggy eyelids were hurting my vision so they would pay for it.  (Do you see how this is done?  You have to be thinking!  Kind of like having sonograms when you're pregnant.  "I know you don't typically do sonograms at 12 weeks but....I know!   I have terrible pain in my side.  Write that *&%# down.  I want to see my baby so I know he's okay.")

Cool Sculpting?  A friend told me that this is also quite painful, although she looked FABULOUS after.  It works.  I think I would only do this, though, if I developed a gobbly turkey chin.  I am a little bit frightened of it.  

So if you decide to get something done, I would love to hear about it.  And if you are totally against it, that's okay, too.  But let's don't hate on each other.  It is hard enough being a woman.