Blog

Look Out Below

So a couple of days ago, I walked out to our driveway and I started panicking. It appeared that our driveway had been covered with white paint splotches all over it. We have just had a bunch of painting and renovations done here, at the house, and I figured, “Great, the kids or the painters or someone else dragged a garbage bag out to the street that had paint in it, and it got all over our driveway! Just great.”

I immediately started looking for paint thinner until it dawned on me that the massive splotches were actually not paint at all, but a present left from one of the pterodactyl-sized birds we have living around us, here in tropical Florida. So you would think, that this dawning moment, would have prompted me to get the garden hose out, but instead I got out my phone and looked to see how soon we could be expecting a torrential downpour. (no time soon, unfortunately)

The upside here is that when I started looking up funny memes about bird droppings, it turns out that in many cultures (and definitely Turkish cultures), having a bird poop on you or your belongings, is actually considered a mark of very good luck. Some websites even suggested that I stop whatever I was doing (looking at your website, duh) and run right out and buy a lottery ticket. I didn’t yet, but I will . . . .

Moral of the story: There IS an upside to everything.

Healthy Pause

I am in a phew, exhale, big sigh, totally deflate like a balloon, and rest like a puddle on the ground, mindset today. So many “biggies” that we had been anticipating: our eldest son’s big move to a new state, the completion of our renovations, our youngest son’s high school graduation and the celebrations that followed, the safe extraction of his monster-sized wisdom teeth, etc. etc. are mainly finished and completed quite satisfactorily. It’s like my extra-big, neon signed and shined, mambo to-do list has been checked off and completed. Phew. Sigh. Deflate. Rest. . . . . and reflect. It all went well. It’s all over. I am going to rest a little bit before starting a new big load list. Big load lists always happen, especially in big load families. I try my best to stay in the present moment when I am in the midst of the planning, experiencing and executing the big load lists, but there is always that little part of me that repeats, “This will feel so good when it’s over. I can’t wait until the end of all of this.” I know that we are not supposed to anticipate the future. I know that we are not supposed to wish our lives away, but sometimes I just can’t help myself. And guess what? It does feel good to be at a completion point, right now. It does feel good to press “Pause” before loading up the play list and hitting “Play” again. I’m not ready to press “Stop” any time soon and I honestly wouldn’t want to hit “Reverse”, as good as a lot of my life has been, but healthy pauses, well, healthy pauses feel really good sometimes. Phew. Sigh. Deflate. Rest. Reflect.

“Sometimes you need to press pause to let everything sink in.” – Sebastian Vettel

“He who can no longer pause to wonder and stand rapt in awe, is as good as dead; his eyes are closed.” – Albert Einstein

The Way of Life

My youngest son gets his wisdom teeth removed today. Like many of these types of coming-of-age milestones, we have already been through this, with his two older brothers. We have a good idea of what to expect. My youngest son is 6’2″ and he works out – all of the time. He’s already high on the pre-surgery drugs. He is a dizzy boy. This is going to be a long day for him . . . . and for me. We’ll both be gorging on Talenti.

I’m longing to get back to normal. Of course, with summer here, the reset button has been pushed. We will be figuring out our new summer normal. We have to let ourselves get into the groove of new summer jobs, summer volunteering, my daughter’s summer tennis training, etc. I’m longing for “normal”, yet I’m not even sure what this normal is going to look like yet. This is the way of motherhood. I wonder if we moms would be totally lost and confused if the only schedule we ever had to think about was our own?

This is a really rambling, random post. Please forgive me, readers. Clearly, the summer reset hasn’t occurred yet. I’m still “all over the map” in my thoughts, in my schedule, in my emotions and in my biological clock rhythms. This is the way of motherhood, too. Or maybe, this is just the way of life . . . .

“Spring passes and one remembers one’s innocence
Summer passes and one remembers one’s exuberance
Autumn passes and one remembers one’s reverence
Winter passes and one remembers one’s perseverance.”
–   Yoko Ono, Season of Glass

Pitcher is Full

Image result for there is a difference between giving up and knowing when you have had enough

Last night, I was reminded of the above wisdom, as I was sitting at one of our city’s iconic restaurants, staring at my unbelievably delicious chocolate peanut butter torte, around midnight last night. We were at the restaurant celebrating my son’s high school graduation. I had already eaten a third of my scrumptious dessert, plus a bite of everyone else’s choices. We were in a separate dessert room. Seriously. Before the dessert room experience, we all had enjoyed a heavy, gluttonous three-course meal. This particular restaurant is known for its throwback nature. It glamorizes the times of pre-gluten, pre-dairy, pre-cardiac health concerns. My All-American sticktoitiveness was telling me to finish what I had started. Finish the damn dessert. But wait, isn’t that what doggy bags are for? Wouldn’t a bite of the torte in the morning be a wonderful reminder of the previous night, a night filled with laughter, nostalgia and decadence? (The bite that I just had a minute ago was delectable!)

It’s okay to know when you have had enough of anything. It’s okay to know when your “pitcher is full, filled to the brim.” We all have different sized pitchers. Saturation points happen. It’s not giving up. It’s knowing that you have had enough and honoring yourself enough, to just stop with the madness – even if the madness is in the form of a fabulously, unbelievably delicious dessert.

It Truly Is

I’m really happy today. I am so happy that I’m actually kind of giddy. We finally got most of our things put away, that were all over our house due to a renovation, and it feels so cleansing and clearing. My younger sons picked up our eldest son at the airport last night, after midnight. I got up at 2:30 a.m. and I peeked in the doors of all of my babies. I haven’t done that in a long while. They were all four sound asleep in their beds. Then I went back to my bed and had some of the best sleep that I have slept in a long time. There is probably not a more nurturing, comforting feeling in a mama’s heart, than all of her children sleeping peacefully under one roof. We have a big day of activities planned to celebrate my youngest son’s high school graduation. There will be a lot of laughing and joking. I will be a brunt of a lot of those jokes and I will love it. Life is good.

“One thing I had learned from watching chimpanzees with their infants is that having a child should be fun.” – Jane Goodall

It is, Jane. It truly is.

Ehh, It’s Friday

funny friday quotes for work

Happy Friday, friends and readers!!!  This one felt “long in coming” didn’t it?!?  New readers, I love Fridays.  We don’t go into deep subjects on Fridays here at Adulting – Second Half.  On Fridays, I discuss three favorite things/songs/websites/ideas, etc. and I highly encourage you to share your favorites (anything goes!) in the Comments section. Please check out previous Friday posts for more favorites.  Here are today’s favorites and they are all random and in no specific category:

Sconza Chocolates Lemoncello Chocolate Almonds – My family  first had these “euphoria for your mouth” almonds in California last summer.  I was absolutely delighted when Costco started carrying them, although I have the feeling that they were a limited special purchase.  Get these yellow nuggets of gastro gold, however you can.  Find a way.  I would beg, borrow and steal for this candy.  And you know, on a happy note, almonds are a super food . . . .

Next, by now, you regular readers know how much I love Think Smarter on Twitter.  I attribute 60-70 percent of my “smarts” to this feed.  Below is my favorite post yet.  They posted it just a few days ago.  I LOVE when a few words can encapsulate a feeling, or an experience, or a nuance that we all can relate to:

 

(It’s not just “human” that this applies to – our dogs have idiosyncrasies that evoke the same smile in my heart)

Final favorite this Friday –

Frontgate Ultralight Slimline 4-Step Ladder – I may have shared this one already, this is how much I love it.  It bears repeating.  This is not your average step ladder.  Granted, it is not inexpensive but it is worth every penny.  It is as sturdy as they come, and the best part is that it folds up so skinny that we keep ours in between our washer and our dryer.  This ladder is so skinny, that if it were your friend, you’d secretly hate her.  It is light and easy to carry from room to room, too, so you really only need one of them and it comes in all sorts of color choices.

And a final thought for this Friday as you head out to festivities for the night:

“At every party there are two kinds of people – those who want to go home and those who don’t. The trouble is, they are usually married to each other.”– Ann Landers

Horizons

“A ship in the harbor is safe, but that is not what a ship is built for . . . .”

Tonight, my youngest son graduates from high school. This is the third time that we will experience this event. In some ways, having been through it before, makes it easier. We know what to expect. In some ways, having been through it before, makes it harder. We know what to expect.

When I had my first child, I experienced a depth of feelings that I didn’t know existed. Like many women, when I got pregnant subsequent times after that, I got nervous. I got doubtful. I questioned why we chose to “rock the boat.” When I got pregnant with our second son, I read something that now makes all of the sense in the world to me: “Your first child teaches you about the depth of your love, your subsequent children teach you about the breadth of your love.” Like most children, my four children have always tried to “trip me up” and they have tried to figure out whom I love best. I’ve always reminded them that they are all smart and they are all good at math. You can’t divide or measure “infinite.” It is an impossible task. Infinite love is so overwhelming, vulnerable, awe-inspiring, miraculous, solid and most decidedly, immeasurable.

We’re having another ship leave the shipyard in the next couple of months. His first journey to college won’t be so far away. But journeys beget journeys and tonight signals to me that the anchor is pulled up. He will come back to our little safe harbor from time to time, to fuel up and to share stories of journeys that I won’t be a part of, but I will thrill in, vicariously. He is ready for the journeys. He is a solid ship. The horizon awaits . . . . .

Always.

I like to check out Think Smarter on Twitter. It is one of my favorite daily reads. The other day there was a post that ended with this statement:

“You can’t mess anything up that’s meant to be.”

I haven’t given it enough thought to decide whether I think that this is true or not, but it sure is a comforting thought, isn’t it? It sure gives you the reassurance to live your life with full abandon, doesn’t it?

Image result for quotes about what's meant to be will happen

That’s My Story

I think that my stuff has reproductive capabilities – especially my shoes, clothes, handbags and accessories. And I think that my stuff is particularly horny and rabbit-like. Our new closet shelving gets installed in the next couple of days, but in the meantime, my stuff is spread all over the house creating a thickening, sickening, stifling layer on every surface that we own. It feels like we are being overtaken by The Blob.

Our piano, I believe, is still somewhere under the pile of shoes. We haven’t heard from it in a while. (honestly, we haven’t heard from our piano in a long while, since even before it was covered with shoes, but that’s for a whole different blog) Our dining room table is probably buckled under the weight of handbags and blouses. I don’t know. I haven’t seen it in about a month. I am truly shocked that a fire hasn’t started, because the stuff is piled so high, on top of the table, that the top layer is melted on to the chandelier.

I’m honestly not a hoarder. I give a lot to Goodwill and to the veterans. I have the tax receipts to prove it. I don’t get particularly sentimental about most of my things. I totally buy into the whole Marie Kondo (famous Japanese organization guru) idea that if something doesn’t “spark joy” in you anymore it is time to pass it on to someone who might find some sparkle of joy, by owning it. That’s why I think that my things are breeding and propagating. That is where all of the accumulation is coming from, I believe.

Now my husband would probably chime in here and say that if my theory is true, my things’ method of propagation is assisted by my shopping habits. He would say that their fertilization is highly assisted. I couldn’t argue that point, in good faith. So right now, I want to force myself to simmer in this feeling of suffocation and claustrophobia, in order to keep my future shopping habits in check.

We aren’t one of those families who has lived in the same house for 25 years. No, we have actually gone through 4-5 major moves and more than one major renovation. These have been good, solid cleansing opportunities that we have taken full advantage of, over the years. That is why I am truly shocked that we still have SO MUCH STUFF. That is why I believe that my stuff has reproductive capabilities. And that’s my story and I’m stickin’ to it.