21 Days: Day 19

Do any of you have that friend who repeats herself…maybe after she’s had a few too many cocktails? And you’re all, “yeah yeah yeah,” but you love her so you listen anyway? I’m that person lately. I appreciate those of you who are still here saying, “yeah yeah yeah” and loving me anyway.

Also, this has been so deep into my every day life that my friends are asking, “Was that me you were talking about when you said ______?” Even Brad Bell said, “Was it me that advised saying bff was petty and immature?” It was. He was trying to wrap his head around some girl drama. I’m grateful for self-aware people.

1. I slept like a rock. I snoozed the 5:30 alarm. No one else gets up til close to 7 so I had plenty of time to clean up dog poop and be grateful for, among other things, a house that smells fantastic–despite the dog poop–thanks to some new PartyLite aroma melts.

2. A few years ago, Brad started having half-day Fridays. Since I worked from home at the time, and the kids were in school, we turned those half-days into dates. Sometimes we went to lunch or watched a movie. Sometimes we took a nap. It didn’t really matter; it was a few hours of uninterrupted time together, which is super duper rare.

With holiday and work and travel and snow days, we haven’t had a Friday date in close to forever. But today, we got one. It consisted of tool shopping and lunch, which was fantabulous. My usual–and only–date request is food or coffee or both. I’ve told you how gleefully I react to the mere suggestion of coffee, so you can imagine when you combine it with food, one of my other favorite things.

What makes me happier than food and even coffee is that after all these years, my man and I still have fun hanging out no matter what we are doing. We laugh at our own jokes. We have entire conversations that consist of nothing but Anchorman quotes. We talk about other things in addition to our kids. And that’s good. Because these kids have a bad habit of growing up, and sooner rather than later, we are going to be spending a lot of time alone together. Thank goodness, he is my favorite.

3. I got a thank you from someone I wrote a thank you to in the mail. Love. Love. Love.

Yesterday two of my loyal fasting friends told me they cheated. I ate pizza in commiseration. Hey, I’m not trying to get in the Daniel Fast hall of fame. I’ve learned way more through the gratitude portion than I did by restricting food. Because guess what being hungry makes me? A. N. G. R. Y.

I’m only clarifying because I’ve gotten a few eye rolls from some Judgey McJudgersons re: my “modifications” of the fast. Well, the fast, kinda like life, is between you and God. So, when we are keeping tabs on what and how someone else is doing, then we’re kinda missing the point. You know, the whole plank in the eye thing.

Guess what else? It’s the freaking weekend, baby. Any fun plans?

If you have about 10 minutes and aren’t offended by the “f” word, read this article; it’s f#$%ing brilliant.

Two. More. Days.

xoxo

21 Days: Day 15

It was a happy day off filled with fun little girl activities, duct tape crafts and a trip to the trampoline park complete with a mommy date. I mean, who could ask for more. And now I get to enjoy a full hour and a half of tv with my son. My cup runneth over.

1. I usually sleep fitfully on Sundays, and last night was no exception. I was wide awake at 2 a.m. listening to my son cackle and carry on with his Xbox live buddies. It actually made me happy since earlier he was in a dark place after Tom Brady and company dealt his Colts an embarrassing loss. Still, I got to sleep in and was grateful for a happy kid, a warm bed, a happy husband and a good report from my big girl who spent the weekend in the Big Apple.

2. Sometimes meaningful things are so simple that if you aren’t paying close attention, you might miss them entirely. Today, a few of Lily’s friends came over to make duct tape crafts for a school assignment. They work in groups to make something, then they have a little market where they sell their wares–for Monopoly money. It is a fun project that teaches them a little bit about business.

Since their class is pretty split boy/girl wise, they made cute bows and pencil holders but wanted to make something to appeal to the boys as well. Another mom who was helping suggested paper footballs out of duct tape. I remember Peyton loving paper footballs when he was Lily’s age and then some little plastic variations they made so we decided to make them. Except I had no idea how to make them.

So I ventured into his domain and asked P to make me two paper footballs. Sometimes when I ask him to do things, he complains. Sometimes, he procrastinates. And sometimes, he sweetly complies. When he responded, “Sure, Mom,” telling his xbox buddies to hold on, my heart smiled.

A year ago, that wouldn’t have been a big deal, but I recently watched one sweet little kid turn into a tween, then a teen and then boom an adult who lives in a different state, and I know these years zip by in fast forward. With this in mind, I’m trying hard to be a good boy mom and give him space and room to become who he is going to be and not be needy and clingy. But it’s really hard.

It’s painful and awkward to go from being the center of somebody’s world to being kind of a supporting role. Especially when those people are always the center of my world. That never really shifts for mothers. I know it’s natural, and I want our children to be independent, but it’s not without growing pains. Chloe and I eased naturally into more of a grown up relationship, but she still asks me for advice and shares secrets with me. I am treading carefully around this relationship with my boy because I’ve seen so many moms blow it and end up with weird (or no) grown-up relationships with their sons.

But today, he stepped outside of his world willingly and kindly to do something for me, and that made my world feel a little bit sweeter.

3. I have a fresh supply of note cards, and guess what: The post office is open tomorrow.

I had a late lunch with a friend and our girls today, and we split a salad and grilled asparagus. Also, we oooohed and awwwed over it as if these vegetables were the most amazing meal we’d ever eaten. That’s what the last week of the fast looks like.

Do you have any advice for navigating the teen years? Would you just like to commiserate? Or do you have an amazing relationship with your son and want to be my mentor? Anyone?

21 Days: Day 12

Well, about 50 of you are hanging in and reading this every day. I’ll send you all thank you notes when it’s over–most of you probably already got or are getting one though. Today was a spectacularly average day sprinkled with some fun little interactions … impromptu chats with friends, a phone conversation with a much-missed soul sister, a snowy walk with the dog. Good stuff.

1. My day didn’t start so great though. The dog woke me at 4:00 a.m. alerting me to how I’d be spending my morning — i.e., scrubbing carpet. But, there were still plenty of blessings to count, and I had plenty of extra time to count them.

2. Historically, I’ve been a worst case scenario thinker. I worried about bad things happening to people I love. In the past few years, however, my life shifted to a degree that I learned to surrender and trust that everything is going to be all right.

For example, Chloe lives in another state. She traveled to two different countries last year. I don’t see her very often. Sometimes I don’t hear from her before I go to bed. Sometimes, I don’t hear from her for almost a whole day; I do start to freak out a little bit when that happens. But mostly, I know that she is okay. I remember my dad telling me, “No matter how old you get, you will always be my baby,” and that is the truth. But I am blessed that I get to have an awesome grown-up relationship with her.

Then there’s the fact that Brad travels frequently for work. Twenty or so years ago, when I was super jealous and possessive, it would have made me crazy not to know exactly what he was doing. The ladies love that guy. And although he has never done anything to make me mistrust him, there is that shrew-y little voice that sometimes suggests he could be getting into all kinds of mischief. I told that voice not to even go there with me. Once, I surmised that he had a perfect job to have an affair, if, in fact, he wanted to have an affair. He gave me the squinty-eye and reassured me with, “You’re silly, baby.”

I realized today, as my daughter headed off to New York City, that I didn’t even get a little bit of a pit in my stomach. I didn’t tell her to be careful or lecture her on all the hidden dangers that could be lurking. She’s been lots of places and knows about the dangers. In fact, she is far more worldly than I am. The only thing I felt was genuine excitement for her knowing that she is going to have an amazing time.

Acknowledging that I no longer have to worry about every little thing makes me extremely grateful for the way my molecules have been rearranged.

3. I have to buy more thank you cards. That is all.

I’m writing early because our afternoon and evening are filled up with activities, but today, I’m going to post it instead of messing around thinking, “Oh, I’ll edit this later…” because that blew up in my face yesterday. 9 days left, kids. I ate a half an avocado and two carrots for breakfast. The crazy thing is: I enjoyed it.

21 Days: Day 9

How ’bout those Buckeyes? There’s something special about cheering together for sports that breaks down barriers. I mean you rarely see grown men so exuberantly displaying affection the way you do after a big win. Women are different, at least the ones I hang with. We can go deep, cry and pledge our undying love to each other on a random Tuesday with very little provocation. It’s an interesting phenomenon, though, the guys loving each other. It’s particularly endearing with this bunch since I’ve loved most of them for almost 30 years. Yeah, that’s the good stuff.

1. What is not good stuff, however, is the sleep deficit that results from 8:30 p.m. games. Why couldn’t they play on Saturday? Oh well. I was so afraid I would sleep through my alarm that I woke up about 427 times in the night. Grateful for: at 3:37a.m.–2 more hours of sleep; at 4:46–ummm…Brad’s not snoring or hiccupping…oops, jinxed that; at 6:10–oh shit, I did sleep through my alarm.

2. About 12 years ago, I discovered the delight that is afternoon coffee. It’s funny because I rarely think of it on my own, but when someone suggests it? I feel completely giddy. We have a sign in our kitchen that says, “Coffee is always a good the BEST idea.” I promise I’m not going back to talking about coffee all the time; this is just background info. So on an otherwise normal and not special afternoon, Brad would say, “You want coffee?” and I of course responded, “YES! I would LOVE coffee!” And suddenly, the normal afternoon was a little bit special.

The past year or so–since we got a hot tub–“You want coffee?” has evolved into, “You wanna get in the hot tub?” Or on some super amazing mornings, “You wanna have coffee in the hot tup?” Honestly…who doesn’t? It’s not really about the coffee or the hot tub, but it’s about the few minutes or sometimes an hour of conversation. It’s about putting down phones, turning off TV’s and just being…together. Tonight was pretty cold, and I thought for a 37.5 seconds before gleefully accepting the invitation, but it was so worth it. An hour of deep, therapeutic conversation and stargazing is so good for the soul.

3. I’m still praying about it. I am actually slacking on mailing these thank you notes. Four of them are addressed, stamped and waiting patiently on the microwave. I promise to mail them tomorrow.

Today, was a mixed bag of frenzied activity, whiny kiddos, sleep-deprivation and sweetness. I got 7 new books at the library. Seven. It’s God’s number, not mine. My fast has been super-awesome because I was too tired to even think about eating. I joke a lot about the weight loss/gain, but the bottom line is: I have a great group of friends with whom I’m fasting. We’re all 30 and 40 something. In your mid-to-late 30s and 40s for sure, weird stuff happens to your body, random weight gain and muscle tone loss…head hair loss and chin hair gain. Just stupid random stuff. We talk about it a lot because we’re girls, and that’s what we do.

I went to the doctor recently with a whole laundry list of complaints, and she smiled and nodded knowingly, responding, “It’s all normal, unfortunately. The 40s suck.” I’m happy with the 40s, my body and myself, but I’m never complacent and always striving to do better; that’s one thing I never want to change. As long as I’m breathing, I will be learning, growing, and trying to change for the better.

How was your day? Did you make anything fabulous to eat?  Did you make something mediocre? Are you too hungover to even think about it? This is a judgment-free zone. Namaste.

xoxo

21 Days: Day 8 — LET’S GO BUCKS!

I have to write early because there’s a pretty important football game tonight, and preparing physically and mentally takes a lot of energy. Additionally, my husband is home and bouncing around the house like a little kid on Christmas, and that makes it hard to write. And finally, I have to take my mom to the doctor, which also requires preparation…

Apparently, the snow plow drivers are Buckeyes fans and were already preparing this morning; at least they weren’t plowing the snowy, slushy roads. It was a crappy drive to school so I used the time to give Peyton lots of useful tips about driving in the snow. It sounded a lot like, “See how close this a-hole behind me is? Don’t do that.” He won’t drive for another year, was half asleep and not a bit interested in my monologue, but it soothed me.

1. After three lazy snow days and a weekend, when that alarm sang out at 5 a.m., gratitude wasn’t my initial reaction. Ugh. Bed, Brad, kids, house, car with good tires and 4-wheel drive. I realize, as I’ve been writing about the blessings that my bed is nearly always first. It’s a good bed. Everyone who sleeps in it agrees. The kids love it. Our Florida besties love it. Brad does too. Once, after an extended out-of-town stay for work, as we snuggled in, he whispered “I missed you so much…”

“Me or the bed?” I giggled.

“Both of you.”

2. The good thing about having a husband who travels a lot is that you learn to do lots of things by yourself. That is also the bad thing. You have to because if you don’t do those things no one else will. I used to complain more, but I have a friend whose husband travels a lot as well, and she never complains. She just does stuff, asks someone else to do it, or doesn’t do it. She is one of my many role models. This morning, I dragged 3 garbage cans through 4 inches of heavy, wet snow and then drove P to school without thinking twice about it. I’m not bragging, just stating the facts. When I came home and told Brad that the roads were bad, he said, “Why didn’t you wake me up to take him?” I didn’t think of it because it isn’t usually an option.

I’ve always wanted Brad to take charge of some certain traditional gender role tasks. Take the garbage out. Handle car maintenance. Clean the gutters. You know. But, a funny thing happens sometimes when you’re waiting for someone to take care of you: You learn to take care of yourself. But today, watching my husband who is a) home and b) not only fixing my leaky sink but also replacing the faucet which has been leaking for years, I am almost overwhelmed with glee. When he was home every day, I probably would have been worn out from asking him to fix that sink. My reaction would have been more, “It’s about damn time,” and less, “Look at him! He’s fixing the sink AND the faucet. He’s an angel boy!” Changing circumstances sure can shift your perspective; I see that today with amazing clarity. 

3. Writing daily Thank You notes is teaching me that there are always people to thank. The smallest act of kindness can shift your mood and change your whole outlook. It’s a good reminder that we can and do make a difference.

In Small Victories, Anne Lamott, in a quandary over political and military situations questions her friend, a Jesuit priest, how to help, and he advises: “You take care of the suffering,” reminding her that there are people suffering everywhere. Sometimes we get so caught up in our helplessness on a grand scale that we miss a million little opportunities right in front of us. We forget to smile and hold the door because we’re focused on our destination. We walk past a person picking up their dropped groceries caught up in fussing about what great things we could do instead of grocery shopping. (Or maybe it’s because we’re worried it’s a ploy to rob us because of that email we just read.) We can’t be bothered to pick up a frazzled mom’s change clanging on the dirty Walmart floor as she wrestles her wriggling toddler into the cart because we are waiting for our big break. We’re waiting for God to show us our purpose. That’s the thing though: These little things are our purpose. Slow down, look up, pay attention, love, serve…

Don’t miss out on the beauty of the life you have because you’re waiting for the life you want.

This is gonna be a rough Daniel Fast day. Buckeye parties mean beer, more beer and delicious food that is not fast-approved. I’m going to eat sweet potato and black bean soup, which is delicious even if it’s not pizza or 7-layer Mexican dip. I think I’ll also wear blinders and a nose plug. But I’m already telling you: I’m gonna drink beer.

How’s your Monday? Two of my fellow fasters text me to celebrate their 3 and 1 pound weight losses. I blocked their numbers. I’m kidding… I’ll celebrate with you when you rub my nose in your weight loss, you beeyotches. I’m currently +2. Wooo Hoo.

xoxo

21 Days: Day 7

The first week is almost over, and as far as the Daniel fast goes, I feel bloated, defeated, dissatisfied and tired of cooking. As far as the 21 days of gratitude challenge goes, I feel encouraged, satisfied, inspired and well, grateful. I’ve also enjoyed the consistent writing. Anne Lamott, my idol and secret soul sister (it’s a secret because she doesn’t know we’re soul sisters) says that if you want to be a writer you have to show up at the same time every day and write. So, this has been a great exercise in showing up and writing–not necessarily at the same time, but in the same place. I’m a work in progress.

1. I love Sunday mornings, so it is super easy to be grateful for: sweet sleeping children, a warm safe home, a wonderful husband who will bring me a cup of coffee in bed as soon as he hears me roll over. I cherish these quiet minutes of gratitude in the morning.

2. Again, I feel as if paying closer attention and trying to be present has made every interaction more special and meaningful. Right now, I’m surrounded by 3 of my 4 people, and our house is filled with the amazing aroma of sweet potato and black bean soup. We spent a fun-filled evening surrounded by great friends, and I came home to a sweet surprise gift from another lovely friend. My whole day was sprinkled with the most endearing little interactions. This morning, at church, we served in Mini Movement (little ones up to 4), and usually this wears me out, tries my patience and gives me a headache, but this morning, each little one seemed to offer some sweet blessing. From my friend’s tiny towhead who leaped into my arms repeatedly giggling, “Tickle, tickle, tickle,” to another little peanut who shyly climbed into my lap and sweetly whispered, “I really want my daddy,” these tinies touched my heart. Honestly, even the little boy whom I had to wrestle to keep him from crawling under the divider into the other side of the room made me smile later as he drove a matchbox car up and down my arm. Then his little brother took the same matchbox car and junk punched Brad Bell, and I might have rolled around laughing on the floor. He was fine, you guys, it was just a little boy, and I think boys/men instinctively flinch and protect that area if they sense something is headed that way. Besides, we’re from Warren; the baby thugs are our people.

3. I don’t know why I always forget to do this. Max Lucado says in a webcast promoting his latest book, Before Amen, that we could avoid so much worry and anguish if we would just remember to take our problems to God before our problems get to us. So I’m praying for God to bring me a person to thank. Amen.

With one week almost done, I feel a renewed commitment to see this through. I have seen small miracles taking place all around me, and I’m not sure if it’s due to the prayer and fasting or simply the increased mindfulness and attention to grace and goodness. It doesn’t matter either way. It just matters that there is good, so much good, so many people to love and so many people who love you back. So many opportunities to offer kindness, compassion and love. I’m grateful for the ever-increasing awareness.

Thank you so much for your comments, texts, emails and calls. You guys have encouraged me so much. This is just a 21 day journey, but isn’t this really what our every day journey is about? Sharing with others, reaching out to offer a kind word, a helping hand or just to pat a fellow traveler on the arm and say, “Me too.”

What are you cooking this week? I gotta get off the rice and quinoa, or my ass is gonna have its own zip code. For. Real.

xoxo

21 Days: Day 6

One thing I have never mastered is cooking tofu. A few weeks ago at a Thai restaurant in Pittsburgh, a perfect tofu pad Thai dish inspired me to try again. The tofu was amazing. Crispy on the outside and soft on the inside. Mine was the same as always: Mushy. This is irrelevant other than it just happened, and I wondered if any of you had any suggestions about how to cook tofu.

Today, I had a happiness hangover of sorts. So much good in one day was overwhelming. In a good way, but still overwhelming.

1. I woke up next to my husband. That alone makes all the blessings I normally count so much sweeter because none of them would exist if not for the sweet sleeping boy next to me.

2. After I lamented Lily’s lack of interest in watching movies with me, her teacher (who is my good friend) assigned her this snow day homework: Snuggle and watch a movie with your mom. She’s a good egg, that one. Somebody needs to give those angel teachers a raise. Lily wanted to watch Mean Girls, which has some inappropriate-for-8-year-olds content–that I’d forgotten–but brought up a lot of good talking points because that bullshit starts when girls are teeny-tiny. It also continues until, well, I’ll let you know when it stops.

So yesterday, in a tangled web conversation with one of my closest friends, we unwound some strains of hurt and betrayal. Wanting to be loved and accepted are basic human needs not just desires. Unfortunately, through the cuts and bruises and scars we acquire moving through the sometimes thorny forest of life, we end up with some weird insecurities and hang ups. Then, unfortunately, on occasion we foist that crap onto other people we encounter. My really smart and amazingly talented friend Molly wrote about that here. She’s a great writer, right? That brings me back to this: We all want to be loved and accepted so let’s stop comparing and judging and criticizing and gossiping and trying to feel better about ourselves at the expense of someone else.

Trying to feel better about yourself by pointing out another’s flaws or shortcomings won’t make you better than anyone else. It won’t really make you feel better either. And, it will just show people that you have issues in your own life that you’d rather not deal with. I’m choosing to be kinder. I’m trying to accept people as they are and not as some idealized version of who I think they could be if they’d just deal with their shit. I’m trying. One mindful decision at a time.

3. I’m still crying about yesterday’s thank you note. Ugh. I have no idea who to write to today.

Yesterday, I gave in to the siren call of spinach dip and also something called Sex on the Horizon.

 If you could say no to Sex on the Horizon, then you’re a better woman than I am. And if it makes you feel better to say that you’re better than me, then you might want to read that paragraph above again, ’cause you might have missed the point. It tasted almost as good as it looked, but I paid severely for these transgressions when my stomach launched a full-fledged assault against me at 4 a.m.

Today has been good Daniel-fast wise, except for the tofu fail. Did I mention my husband is home? So despite the fact that 1/5 of our little world is starting her own little world in the City of Bridges, life feels mostly full and happy today.

How are you doing, my friends? What good did you eat? What made your heart smile? Aren’t you glad I finally shut up about coffee :)?

21 Days: Day 5

Well, my friends, I might in fact be addicted to coffee. I had two cups this morning. But, I’m okay with that. Sick of me talking about coffee? I know, right? But I’m all freaking jacked up on the caffeine, man! This is a lot like when I quit smoking and then talked ad nauseum about quitting smoking. I was gonna link one post, but when I searched “quitting smoking” on my blog about 10 posts came up. Like I said, AD NAUSEUM. Interested in quitting smoking or reading about someone who quit/started/quit/started/quit…here you go. It has been almost 2 1/2 years since I quit the last time, by the way, so I consider myself an official ex-smoker, not that I’d ever get complacent with that.

1. Shockingly, school was canceled again today. My sweet fasting sister text me this morning and said, “How the heck are we supposed to make it through three snow days without coffee?” I took a deep inhalation of the creamy delicious cup of salvation in my hand and fessed up that I had raised my white flag. But I was up and at ’em today, counted the heck out of some blessings, did yoga, showered and dressed (WITH makeup on) by 9:30 a.m. I mention this simply because it is a huge feat for me to exercise, shower, and put real clothes on in the morning. Normally I rock gym clothes–whether or not I exercise–and no makeup til mid afternoon. This is a lot. I was super caffeinated–and grateful.

2. Mmmmm…so much today. So. Much. Stuff. I was happy, productive, so “Oh what a beautiful morning, Oh what a beautiful day! I’ve got a beautiful feeeeeeeling Everything’s going my way!” You know, from Oklahoma? Show tunes. Caffeine. Rehab, might be next. Anyhooooo, I have this awesome angel friend who just happens to be a psychiatrist–and a pretty good one according to my gut and also his freaking world-class credentials. We don’t know each other except through one meeting, some mutual friend/relatives and correspondence via writing–by hand and email. He is a very dear kind person. Also probably a good guy to have on your side should you need an expert witness… not that I would. This morning he sent me an article about the benefits of coffee with a sweet note; the subject line read: “Be Kind to Yourself.” You know, in a great big world of people and places and random inner-connectedness, the universe brought me this kind person, who happens to be a mental health professional. Add to that: In two days, two different friends shared with me some pretty freaking soul-crushing shit that was going on in their lives. I love these women like they’re part of me, so to listen to them, hear the aching and questioning in their quavering voices. And you know what I do? Nothing. Listen. Love them. Cry with them. Hold their hands. But that’s enough. That helps. But I feel like, What More Can I Do??? And today, in the midst of my secretly kinda beating myself up for drinking coffee … I mean, a little bit, in a trying-too-hard-to-seem-okay way that trained mental health professionals see through and send you a little note that says, “Be Kind to Yourself.” Phew. Okay. Thank. YOU. That’s really it though; isn’t it? Be kind to yourself. Be kind to other people.  Namaste.

3. I have a really perfect note to write today. To a person I have never ever thanked for how much a person she gave birth to changed my life.

Today was my absolute best day this week. Being around people who really love you…being encouraged by people who really love you…being able to encourage and love people…it’s just so amazing. How are you guys doing? If you need encouraged, email me, call me, text me. Thanks for being with me on this journey!! I love you all.

xoxo

21 Days: Day 4

Well, it’s official. I’m addicted to coffee. Addiction might too strong a word to describe my relationship with coffee. Maybe in love would be more fitting. I remember from one of my grad school classes some nugget about addicts needing ever-increasing amounts of their substance of choice to achieve the desired effect. Numbness. Euphoria. High. I’ve heard from heroin addicts that they never reach that same first-time euphoria, and that is what they are always trying to replicate. Chasing the dragon. One night, Brad and I were listening to 70’s hits on Pandora, and I kept googling what the songs were about. Almost all of them were about heroin. Even James Taylor (Fire and Rain). I know, right? He seemed like the boy next door with that sweet voice. I’m way off topic. This isn’t about heroin. It’s just about my one delightful cup of coffee. No more. And I feel like myself again not some evil-spirit-possessed-vile-mean-nasty version of myself. Phew…

1. Another snow day. I didn’t even set my alarm, but I did wake up at a reasonable hour grateful for the usual warm bed, happy healthy kids, amazingly wonderful husband (I really miss him on Thursdays), and great friends who love and support me and are always ready and willing to offer an encouraging word, or a beer, or coffee or all three.

2. My back was really super-achy the last two days, so I spent a lot of time sitting up against a heating pad. I think that may also have been the universe’s way of reminding me to be more compassionate to my bony little mom. Today, I decided that I wasn’t going to let my back dictate my day. Okay, so I’m reading Anne Lamott’s Small Victories–I told you that already–but there is an essay about her dying dog. I also have a dying dog, and I’m not nearly as nice to her as Annie is to her dying dog. I mostly get really irritated with my dying dog. She can barely walk. She has limited control of her…uh…functions anymore, so I’m always cleaning up messes. She bites me really hard if I forget and try to give her a treat out of my hand. She wants to go outside 57 times a day, which means I have to go outside 57 times a day, and she doesn’t seem to care that it’s really effing cold.

I promise I’m getting to the meaningful part.

Reading this essay today about how Anne refused to euthanize her dog and tried to make the end of her life as comfortable as possible by maximizing the things she, the dog, enjoyed softened my heart. Our dog fumbles and stumbles around in the house, but outside–especially in the snow–she runs and bounds like a gazelle. So, Lily and I bundled up and took her outside so she could race around and bury her snout in the snow and nearly rip my arm off because I wasn’t going fast enough to keep up with her. She sniffed out where the groundhogs live. She trailed after some random scent like a bloodhound. She was happy. She was young. She was energetic. For about 10 minutes. Then she was exhausted, and I practically had to carry her back into the house, where she has been sleeping for the last several hours. It was 10 minutes of putting another’s happiness above my own, and that felt really good after having been so angry the last few days. Lily had a good time too because little kids never seem to get cold even though one trip down the slide into a snow drift sent snow up both legs of her snow pants.

3. I haven’t the foggiest idea who I’m going to write to yet. I have prayed that God will bring someone to mind soon.

On a Daniel Fast note, I made these awesome little energy balls today minus the orange zest and cardamom and plus vanilla, chia, and sesame seeds. I was contemplating getting out my food processor–which I really didn’t want to do because it takes forever to drag down, assemble, and then clean up–when I thought, well, maybe this will work in the blender. Voila. Seriously. In about 15 seconds everything was perfectly blended to the most amazing consistency, and I did a big happy dance the kind that makes my kids come in the kitchen and say, “What the…” before joining in (Lily) or rolling their eyes and retreating to their bedroom (P). And it was okay because I was in my kitchen not the library. Rock on, you amazing little Kitchen-Aid blender. You’re a shining star.

How are you guys? Did you make anything fabulous today? Or do you have a super meaningful story to tell? Gosh, I’m so much happier with coffee.

xoxo

21 Days: Day 3

Today started out wonderfully. Last night, we prayed that school would be canceled today, and lo and behold at 5:45 a.m. it was. We (or I) were super excited for a day of doing nothing but watching movies and snuggling. That is a pipe dream because my little dynamo girl wants an itinerary and a social director, not her actual mom who prefers to sit curled up in a chair trying to cajole her into watching a movie or reading or just snuggling. Anyway, this morning my own mom quickly snapped me out of that daydream by sending me on a drug store errand. I won’t go into detail about said errand, but suffice it to say: It was unsavory. The kind of purchase that might send someone to Walgreens incognito. Fortunately, in my advancing age, I’ve reached a level of self-awareness that no longer lets my self-image get wrapped up in cashiers’ opinions of me and my purchases. Still. The only snuggling was with the cat.

1. I woke up easily because I was anticipating that I’d be able to go back to bed as soon as the superintendent called. So, I drank my hot water with lemon and ginger, counted lots of blessings and was supremely grateful to crawl back into bed at 6:15 a.m. and count a few more.

2. My goal is always to be real and genuine and truthful, so describing today’s meaningful experience also involves divulging that I was nasty today. I was short-tempered with my mom, impatient with Lily, irritated with the geriatric dog and just an all-around bitch. P was wise enough to stay in his room so he didn’t face my wrath. Then, this afternoon, I spent a blissful hour and a half talking to one of my dearest friends on the phone. We laughed until my sides ached and then talked about some serious stuff too. It was like a therapy session and coffee date combined. She is also my best coffee friend. When we worked together, we hit every Starbucks in northeast Ohio and western PA. Although we live states apart now, we still manage to have coffee dates a couple times a year, even if they are only on the phone. So, while I was talking to her, I had a cup of coffee. Yes, I cheated on the fast. I put cream in it too. I’m not feeling horrible about it though as my little perfectionist self would have in the past because you know what? I have been a lot nicer since then. I’m not sure if it was the delicious caffeinated delight or just laughing and chatting with a dear friend, but my soul got some much-needed nourishing.

3. I did better today with my Thank You note. It’s the coffee. I am admittedly smarter when I drink coffee.

Last year, “cheating” on the fast would have filled me with guilt and shame. This year, I realize: There’s no shame in knowing and admitting that I chose to drink a cup of coffee. I didn’t smoke a cigarette or use any illegal drugs. It’s coffee. And God still loves me. And it was soooooo good. I’m not sure if I’ll drink it tomorrow or not. School’s already been cancelled so I might. I’ll be a way better social director if I do; That. Is. For. Sure.

Oh, I forgot to mention: I gained 2.5 pounds. Isn’t that awesome? Not even sure how that happens? I stayed away from nuts today. Stupid. Freaking. Scale.

Despite some shortcomings, it was a pretty good day. I made spaghetti squash with peanut sauce that was absolutely phenomenal–I don’t know how I could be gaining weight :). How are you guys doing? I have talked to several friends who are doing way better than I am. Good for you, you bunch of overachieving show-offs 😉 I still love you. And thankfully, I’ve also heard from some people who, like me, are struggling. I’m praying for you, my sisters. And by the way, I’m super grateful for all of you who are with me on this fast, cheering from the sidelines, and even those of you who are reading this simply to fuel your loathing. Keep on keeping on, my lovelies!

xoxo