My favorite shirt

I’ve thought about all the things I could tell you about my favorite shirt.  I could tell you how many years I’ve had it, the story behind it, how I love the fit, feel, and color of it.

Or I could tell you about how when I wear it I’m cracking up on the inside.

My Favorite Shirt

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Sitting and Waiting

Photo Courtesy: Faungg via Flckr

I sit and wait, wait and sit hoping that one of these days inspiration will hit.  I’m not in the doldrums.  But I can’t say I’m feeling inspired either.  You know that feeling of wanting to do something but not having the gumption to start?  That’s what it’s like but with a tinge of grouchiness.

Not bite-your-head-off-you-just-looked-at-me-wrong grouchy.  That would be too obvious and because of this easier to shift.  No this set of feelings shows up as having no desire to actually do anything interesting.

I plan, I shop, I cook, I work, I do, I drive.

None of this has that sparkle the sparkle it usually does.  I’m not depressed.  I know what that’s like.  I’m just in a funk.  And it’s pissing me off that it’s happening during summer.

Maybe because this has been the busiest summer I’ve had in years.  It’s also been the most stressful with projects, kid commitments to keep track of, a husband who hasn’t really been around much, and kids who need me.  Or I wish needed me, which makes me feel even grouchier when I think about it.

I’m missing my alone time.  I’m missing my fun-lazy-kid time too.

I miss myself.

I think a lot of people who find themselves in this type of situation would try to fix it.  Or analyze it.  Or fake it.

Or something.

I’m just gonna wait it out because I know it will pass.

But I wish it would hurry up.

Attention Spans and Tolerance Levels

goldfish with balloon

Walk, walk, walk, walk…  Up the hill, around the reservoir, up the stairs, down the hill, through the neighborhood and home again.

“Why don’t I walk longer?”, I wondered.

I am totally capable of physically walking longer but I get so bored.  If I have a podcast to listen to and the dog to watch it’s a little better but I still feel like it takes forever.  If I have a friend or Superman with me though I can walk forever.  I never think twice about the length of time.  I just walk and chat, chat and walk and before I know it an hour has blown by.

Same with the dishes, cooking dinner, and house cleaning.  Especially house cleaning.  Cooking is okay if I’m making a new recipe.  But house cleaning?  Blech.  I wish I liked it, but I don’t.  In fact, if I have to clean just because my house is dirty I get really cranky.  But give me my headset and my favorite sister and I’m good to go for as long as the call lasts.

I don’t know why but cleaning for company is weirdly inspiring also.  Which makes me think I should probably have friends over more often.  But I don’t because my house is usually too dirty.

There are other activities where my attention span sinks too early.  When the kids were little, playing Legos or Polly Pockets would drive me to the brink of despair in minutes.  The only way to get around this dread was telling myself “This is what good moms do.  You’re a good mom.”  And then… to the kids, “Okay, who wants a snack?”

I have a very high attention span for snacks.

Now that the kids are older there isn’t much I can’t tolerate activity wise with them although I still can’t stand bickering and unkindness.  I also have a very short tolerance for short sentences as in: “Okay.” “Nothing.” “I don’t know.” (or my personal favorite) “Just a sec.”

When any of the above scenarios presents itself I think, “Maybe I should have a drink”.  Unfortunately I also have a low tolerance for alcohol.  I usually don’t drink more than one and half drinks at a time.  I keep it to a minimum because when I drink more than 1 1/2 drinks I swear a lot.  I also say inappropriate things, and always, always talk about sex.

Which makes for interesting conversation at parties but isn’t so fun the next day when I wake up Superman and say, “Did I really say…?”

So if you see me happily…

On a walk by myself know that… I must be listening to a podcast.
Cooking dinner know that… I must be trying a new recipe.
Cleaning the house know that… I’m chatting with my sister or having company.
Playing with small children know thatI’m feeling like a good person.
Fielding short sentences from teenagers know that… I’m craving a beer.
Drinking more than 1.5 drinks know that… things are going to get very interesting!

My Wish List

Oh I wish, I wish

I wish:

I liked to garden

I liked to clean

I could take back thoughtless words I’ve said

I read faster

I could get paid for not working

My sister and brother lived closer

My kids could live their lives but never leave mine

My hair was thick and luxurious

Our house was finished

I could lay out in the sun without worrying about skin cancer

I had a car that magically expanded and contracted based on my needs

My kitchen had better storage space for my pans

I had dark eyelashes and eyebrows

The beach was closer

I still skied

My dog would stop barking when I tell her to

I liked yoga

…to be continued…

And the verdict is…. (yeah me!)

The million dollar question finally gets answered

Do you remember The Million Dollar Question?  The question of my hearing and whether or not my kids mumble or whether I truly cannot hear.

Guess what?

I win!  I win! I win! I win! I win! I win!  I win!  I win!  I win!  I win!I win! I win! I win! I win!

The long and short of it is “yes” I do have slight hearing loss.  And yes, that exact hearing loss means I really DO have a difficult time hearing when there is background noise (like the mall, the car, restaurants, schools, when the TV or radio is on, pretty much anywhere I am and everything I do…)

And then my doctor said one thing that made my heart sing and one that made it sink.

#1: “There is NO reason you can’t hear your kids.”

#2: “Hearing aids won’t help.”

I hate to admit it but for some crazy reason I actually kinda sorta wanted hearing aids.   But then again this could be wishful thinking because I also wanted braces and glasses as a kid.  (Can you believe Wiki-how actually has directions for this?)  And I’m not alone – I’ve seen Lil’ Sport do this too. 

So yes, I win the argument (“Is it me, or is it you?”) but I don’t win overall because I still find myself saying, “What?  I can’t hear you.”

*sigh, double sigh*