Ever find yourself in a relationship that you know you shouldn't be in? The person isn't great for you, but their not entirely bad for you either. You have fun together, you spend all of your time together, you get along, but something about the relationship just drains you. I've been needing to make a clean break in this relationship I've been in since the mid- '90s. Yeah, we'vebeen together for a long time.
Busy and I have always been a good team. She's always got something going on, always something to do, somewhere to be, someone to see, someone to call, email, write a card to, take dinner to, say yes to - busy girl that Busy.
But Busy and I have that typical "unhealthy" relationship. I really like her most of the time. She's part of who I am. In fact, she's something I inherited from my mother, and I believe it's at least a third generation trait. I like Busy because I'm comfortable with her. She's like second nature to me. But she gets me in trouble. She's like weeds suffocating young periwinkles in the bird bath garden that are trying to breathe but can't because they can't break though.
I've been telling Busy that it's not working out. That I'm not happy with our relationship anymore. And she's quick to remind me that she's got a log to offer: time with friends, trips to Wal-Mart, work, writing, developing new ideas, going to birthday parties, planning birthday parties, running errands, planning showers, going to showers, researching our health, investigating school districts, looking for real estate, going to Church, Bible Study -none of which are bad things to do. She makes a good point.
But, I finally mustered up the courage to tell her that I'd met someone else. Just a friend thing, but I'm learning a lot, and I can still have most of those things, I just can't have them all at once. I met Balance.
I don't know all there is to know, or even much about Balance yet, but I think there's much to be gleaned and implemented.
Thursday, July 24, 2008
Taking Off Uptight
Last weekend I worked harder than I've worked in a very long time. We're talking physical labor that began on Friday evening after work, and resumed at 6 a.m. the next morning until about seven hours later. I was creating curb appeal, or attempting to. See, where some people have a green thumb, mine's black. However, the 10+ hours and cash I invested in our front lawn, that right now looks worse than it did prior to the beginning of my curb appeal mission, created a determination in me like no other that I WILL NOT let those flowers die.
Wednesday after work and family dinner at Luby's, I was out front watering my struggling home beautification projects while Dylan and Lane were playing in the yard, still fully clothed - which is abnormal because Dylan typically takes her clothes off the minute she steps foot inside the house if not before. She's got a pair of really cute chocolate brown shorts on that have little butterflies on each back pockt with a brown belt that has a gold glitter butterfly pattern all over. And this really cute shirt that she never wears that I love. I usually won't send her to school in the outfits I really like because they usually come home with chocolate milk, Jello, paint, and whatever else on them. But I'm shedding, right? Just wait.
Dylan, taking after her father, absolutely loves being in water. So as I'm watering the plants, she starts running under the spray of the hose in her very cute outfit, mind you. As I drew in a breath to rattle off my normal string of stop, don't, nos, something like - "Dylan get out of the water, you're getting your clothes wet," something stopped me. Seriously? Seriously. Hello almost 3-year-old, please stop trying to catch a few drops from the water hose and running in the yard on a near 100-degree day, because you'll get your cute outfit wet. Not covered in paint or mud or red juice, just wet. Am I really THIS uptight??!?!? Apparently so. But I let it go. I let the words escape out of my mouth as my jaw dropped at my accomplishment. I slipped a shoulder out of uptight.
We then ventured onto the back porch where Dylan could run free, and yes naked, with Lane right behind her. While I spent last weekend slaving in the front yard, Philip invested his time into the backyard. Some of you may not be aware that it's not unusual for me to come home one day and there be something like a huge stone wall on the side of our yard, a stone fireplace in the middle of our yard, a new sidewalk - all wonderful and beautiful works by my very talented husband, but all surprises to say the least. Anyway, so the kids have the water hose out and Dylan is just really enjoying herself. She's hosing herself off and then Lane - directly in the face. And then they're in and out of Baily's water bowl, which is a huge blue bucket that's extremely slippery when they're standing inside of it. And as I'm watching them I realize that I'm literally holding my breath. I can't stand it. I can see one of them slipping and it getting really nasty there on the concrete patio. And then they're onto the rock patio and up and down on the boulder (yes, boulder) and it starts to really get to me and I stop and think - I'm going to drive myself crazy. They're kids. They're naked. They're playing in the backyard with the water hose and loving it. Not glued to the TV inside or clenched to my leg, or crying, or whining, just playing and having fun.
And so I busted my foot out of this suffocating mold and it felt just like taking your socks off after a really long day outside - just wonderful.
Philip and I then proceeded to have an adult conversation about school districts, and teacher turnover, and magnet programs, and on and on. But I felt so normal. I'll admit that my to-do-list was attempting to haunt me and interrupt with - what's for dinner, what are you making for the kids lunches tomorrow, have you EVEN started on the three loads of laundry sitting just inside, do you see all of the dirt on Lane's nake bottom, but I swatted them away as I slapped mosiquotes on my leg and enjoyed my family that evening.
It felt good taking off uptight. If I can just get her in a box and drop her at the nearest Goodwill location, I'll be doing much better! One layer down...
Wednesday after work and family dinner at Luby's, I was out front watering my struggling home beautification projects while Dylan and Lane were playing in the yard, still fully clothed - which is abnormal because Dylan typically takes her clothes off the minute she steps foot inside the house if not before. She's got a pair of really cute chocolate brown shorts on that have little butterflies on each back pockt with a brown belt that has a gold glitter butterfly pattern all over. And this really cute shirt that she never wears that I love. I usually won't send her to school in the outfits I really like because they usually come home with chocolate milk, Jello, paint, and whatever else on them. But I'm shedding, right? Just wait.
Dylan, taking after her father, absolutely loves being in water. So as I'm watering the plants, she starts running under the spray of the hose in her very cute outfit, mind you. As I drew in a breath to rattle off my normal string of stop, don't, nos, something like - "Dylan get out of the water, you're getting your clothes wet," something stopped me. Seriously? Seriously. Hello almost 3-year-old, please stop trying to catch a few drops from the water hose and running in the yard on a near 100-degree day, because you'll get your cute outfit wet. Not covered in paint or mud or red juice, just wet. Am I really THIS uptight??!?!? Apparently so. But I let it go. I let the words escape out of my mouth as my jaw dropped at my accomplishment. I slipped a shoulder out of uptight.
We then ventured onto the back porch where Dylan could run free, and yes naked, with Lane right behind her. While I spent last weekend slaving in the front yard, Philip invested his time into the backyard. Some of you may not be aware that it's not unusual for me to come home one day and there be something like a huge stone wall on the side of our yard, a stone fireplace in the middle of our yard, a new sidewalk - all wonderful and beautiful works by my very talented husband, but all surprises to say the least. Anyway, so the kids have the water hose out and Dylan is just really enjoying herself. She's hosing herself off and then Lane - directly in the face. And then they're in and out of Baily's water bowl, which is a huge blue bucket that's extremely slippery when they're standing inside of it. And as I'm watching them I realize that I'm literally holding my breath. I can't stand it. I can see one of them slipping and it getting really nasty there on the concrete patio. And then they're onto the rock patio and up and down on the boulder (yes, boulder) and it starts to really get to me and I stop and think - I'm going to drive myself crazy. They're kids. They're naked. They're playing in the backyard with the water hose and loving it. Not glued to the TV inside or clenched to my leg, or crying, or whining, just playing and having fun.
And so I busted my foot out of this suffocating mold and it felt just like taking your socks off after a really long day outside - just wonderful.
Philip and I then proceeded to have an adult conversation about school districts, and teacher turnover, and magnet programs, and on and on. But I felt so normal. I'll admit that my to-do-list was attempting to haunt me and interrupt with - what's for dinner, what are you making for the kids lunches tomorrow, have you EVEN started on the three loads of laundry sitting just inside, do you see all of the dirt on Lane's nake bottom, but I swatted them away as I slapped mosiquotes on my leg and enjoyed my family that evening.
It felt good taking off uptight. If I can just get her in a box and drop her at the nearest Goodwill location, I'll be doing much better! One layer down...
I Guess I'm a Blogger
I thought I already was a blogger. I blog on MySpace. Wow. A few years ago I refused to even entertain the idea of a MySpace profile, and would only use the word "blog" to save from having to act it out. Times change, things change, we change. Which is good. I can't imagine the person I would be today, if I had stopped changing at any milestone or pit stop along this journey. In fact, I'm thankful and grateful that I'm ever-changing, and yet I don't necessarily enjoy change. I'm a planner. I like plans, schedules to the minute, lists that entail so much detail you'd think I was writing them for my three-year old. I enjoyed structure, consistency, repitition in terms of safety and comfort. But not presently. I presently sense the need to break out of this mold I've made for myself. Where I've been tapping on the mold from the inside with a tiny little nail and soft mallet hammer, I'm feeling more like rocking it back and forth until it falls and shatters into a million pieces, and then...Aahhh. I can breathe. I suppose I'm presently changing. I'm shedding layers (maybe like an ogre, ogres are like onions Dylan tells me). Dead layers that have been suffocating me and who I was made to be. So, while I didn't expect this to be my first blog in the blogging world that's not MySpace, here it is. Peace.
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