and over 133 thousand page views.
Yet, this place no longer feels like home.
Most of my followers no longer exist. Many of those that are still around have sold out to companies or succumb to product advertising. Some have passed away. Others have privatized. I suppose I've been dragging this out. I keep saying that I'll come back and then...
... nothing.
It's time to move.
Come by an visit once and a while, won't ya?
http://formerlysurvivingboys.blogspot.com/
Tuesday, June 21, 2016
Wednesday, June 15, 2016
Cough... Cough... Is This Thing On?
Wait...
Here it is...
Wayyy in the back... covered in a thick yellowish green layer of pollen, not unlike every other surface of this house.
It's been a while.
And yet, not much has changed.
Two weeks ago I sent my wedding ring out for some cleaning up. It seems that grouting the tub surround and digging in the dirt for the last six years isn't great for fine jewelry. When I picked it up I had forgotten how beautiful it was. The brilliance of the white gold. The clarity of the diamond solitaire. The precision clean lines of the channel set diamonds in the band.
Beautiful. Clean. New. Simple.
Such the opposite of my days lately.
I met Mum for breakfast as I do every Wednesday. Then to the grocery store and the bank to take care of the husband's long neglected business. His avoidance of this simple last thing within our control pertaining to his mother's estate, lends itself to the magnitude of the bigger issues surrounding it, and it was just time to deal with it. So I did.
Next up was getting swim trunks for Youngest who has long since outgrown his child size wardrobe, then on to order my maid of honor dress for my friend's wedding. Still 12 months away, decisions have to be made, and I send off a barrage of texts to her regarding final hair appointments, rentals, cake details and the like. I am tired of the indecision and again just take it upon myself. After all, this is why she chose me to be in the wedding, because I just take the ball and run. I pick up my rings, head to the cupcake place, purchasing a belated birthday treat to drop on the appropriate desk at work, and then head home where I spend two more hours returning Scout emails and researching paperwork from 2014. Because when else would you ask a question regarding things from 2014 than in 2016?
By 2 PM I was waiting on Oldest to get his cavity filled at the dentist, returning phone calls, discussing new conditions with the surgeon and my upcoming surgery, while the receptionist rolls her eyes that I am just outside the building, and not in the waiting room.
I return home. More emails. The husband. Youngest's eighth grade graduation celebration, because everything needs to be a big production now, beckons in a mere 60 minutes. And at this point I'm not sure if it's all the adulting I have done today, or that the summer's heat is finally here, but I have a pain on my backside that just won't quit.
Needless to say, an hour in a hot sweaty auditorium on plastic bleachers did not help the situation and my back side is now covered in welts. Regardless, I sat through all 211 names, clapping for each one. The PTA presidents had their moment, and thanked those members who would not be there next year. The two women they recognized deserved their names to be called without question. But as I sat there I thought, I have sat through every meeting over the last 3 years. For two of those years I was the ONLY parent that attended that wasn't on the board. I did every fundraiser, helped rewrite the bi-laws, was the swing vote for the incoming president, worked honors breakfasts, and helped plan field trips. I missed many, MANY nights with my family feeling guilty if I didn't go. And while I didn't want flowers, a shout out would have been nice. And that's when it hit me...
... what the hell am I doing this for?
I forgot to eat. I took care of everyone and everything today and forgot to eat anything past breakfast. I am forgetting to take care of me, and at that moment it had literally chapped my ass.
My life has become as stifling as the auditorium. It is tired. Worn.
So unlike my ring that I slipped on my finger six years ago. And I can't help but think, maybe it's time to send my life out for a cleaning. Maybe I am no longer Surviving Boys like I was seven years ago when this all started, maybe now I am just trying to survive myself.
And barely at that.
Maybe it's time to change that.
Maybe it's time to start everything over....
Here it is...
Wayyy in the back... covered in a thick yellowish green layer of pollen, not unlike every other surface of this house.
It's been a while.
And yet, not much has changed.
Two weeks ago I sent my wedding ring out for some cleaning up. It seems that grouting the tub surround and digging in the dirt for the last six years isn't great for fine jewelry. When I picked it up I had forgotten how beautiful it was. The brilliance of the white gold. The clarity of the diamond solitaire. The precision clean lines of the channel set diamonds in the band.
Beautiful. Clean. New. Simple.
Such the opposite of my days lately.
I met Mum for breakfast as I do every Wednesday. Then to the grocery store and the bank to take care of the husband's long neglected business. His avoidance of this simple last thing within our control pertaining to his mother's estate, lends itself to the magnitude of the bigger issues surrounding it, and it was just time to deal with it. So I did.
Next up was getting swim trunks for Youngest who has long since outgrown his child size wardrobe, then on to order my maid of honor dress for my friend's wedding. Still 12 months away, decisions have to be made, and I send off a barrage of texts to her regarding final hair appointments, rentals, cake details and the like. I am tired of the indecision and again just take it upon myself. After all, this is why she chose me to be in the wedding, because I just take the ball and run. I pick up my rings, head to the cupcake place, purchasing a belated birthday treat to drop on the appropriate desk at work, and then head home where I spend two more hours returning Scout emails and researching paperwork from 2014. Because when else would you ask a question regarding things from 2014 than in 2016?
By 2 PM I was waiting on Oldest to get his cavity filled at the dentist, returning phone calls, discussing new conditions with the surgeon and my upcoming surgery, while the receptionist rolls her eyes that I am just outside the building, and not in the waiting room.
I return home. More emails. The husband. Youngest's eighth grade graduation celebration, because everything needs to be a big production now, beckons in a mere 60 minutes. And at this point I'm not sure if it's all the adulting I have done today, or that the summer's heat is finally here, but I have a pain on my backside that just won't quit.
Needless to say, an hour in a hot sweaty auditorium on plastic bleachers did not help the situation and my back side is now covered in welts. Regardless, I sat through all 211 names, clapping for each one. The PTA presidents had their moment, and thanked those members who would not be there next year. The two women they recognized deserved their names to be called without question. But as I sat there I thought, I have sat through every meeting over the last 3 years. For two of those years I was the ONLY parent that attended that wasn't on the board. I did every fundraiser, helped rewrite the bi-laws, was the swing vote for the incoming president, worked honors breakfasts, and helped plan field trips. I missed many, MANY nights with my family feeling guilty if I didn't go. And while I didn't want flowers, a shout out would have been nice. And that's when it hit me...
... what the hell am I doing this for?
I forgot to eat. I took care of everyone and everything today and forgot to eat anything past breakfast. I am forgetting to take care of me, and at that moment it had literally chapped my ass.
My life has become as stifling as the auditorium. It is tired. Worn.
So unlike my ring that I slipped on my finger six years ago. And I can't help but think, maybe it's time to send my life out for a cleaning. Maybe I am no longer Surviving Boys like I was seven years ago when this all started, maybe now I am just trying to survive myself.
And barely at that.
Maybe it's time to change that.
Maybe it's time to start everything over....
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