180

It’s amazing how a single momentary impulse can change the way one looks at everything.  Somebody said that to me not too long ago. What happens if that moment changes the trajectory of you life by 180 degrees?  Do you shoot off into another direction? What if you then take another 180? Does that mean you end up full circle, back at the beginning? Or do you end up even farther from the place you started?  I’m not sure of the answer. But I’m very anxious to find out.

Quiet Hell

The outside's just a shell
But inside's a quiet hell
No one knows the pain I feel
Or how hard it was I fell

One hundred eighty days
The longest of my life
Inside my quiet hell
Not sure how I will survive

This is just a test
What happens if I fail
My heart will never rest
Locked inside a lover's jail

A voluntary break
From the person I can tell
Who would understand it all
Inside my quiet hell

A stranger in this life
Swept away by the swell
Hope I can find my way back
From my own quiet hell

Thankful

Thanksgiving can go fuck itself. Along with the rest of the holidays. That's right. Take your turkey and shove it. Take your Black Friday sales. Your recipes. Your tips for not gaining weight. Your gift guides. Your pumpkin spice vanilla latte birch pine scented candles.

 Oh....that felt good! I don't really feel this way. I actually enjoy the holidays. I just needed a little cathartic bitch relief.

So this is the time of year we're supposed to reflect and be appreciative for what we have. Yes, I'm thankful for my health, my kids, for my job, blah blah blah. That's all a given. So what else am I really thankful for? Here's my top five:

1. Not having to cook this Thanksgiving. We are going out. That means I get to wear my pajamas for almost a full 24 hours before having to get ready to go. All you 40+ year old working moms appreciate what a gift that is.
2. Binge watching. I don't know who came up with the concept, but well done fellow couch potato.
3. Those extra large wine glasses that fit an entire bottle of wine. Finally!
4. Fuzzy socks. My best friend buys me a new pair every year for my bday as a tradition. It's like making love to a kitten with your foot. Meeeoow.
5. Amazon Prime. Hi-tech impulse buying on crack. And you can do it in your pajamas. (See #1)

That's about all the reflection I can handle the day before Turkey Murder Day.  I hope everyone has a happy day filled with whatever you are thankful for!

My legacy

I will never win a Nobel Peace Prize. I will never cure an incurable disease. I will never invent a new technology that changes the way people live their lives. My only legacy on this earth is what I do to ensure my kids are happy, productive, contributors to society. I want them to be kind. I want them to be responsible. I want them to be open minded. I want them to reach for the stars. I want them to stay grounded. I want them to be selfless. I want them to never settle.  I want them to love. I want them them to live life. If I can do this, I've fulfilled my purpose. That's what I'm thinking about this Sunday  night.

I'm a bad blogger

So, blogging once every 6 months sort of defeats the purpose of blogging, right? I haven't posted anything since August, so what does that mean. Am I just busy? Do I have absolutely nothing to say? I think it's a bit of both. I have been working like crazy, caring for my father who is dying of leukemia, training for a half-marathon, and going through the motions of a working mom and wife. Busy? For sure. Nothing to say? Maybe in my mind, nothing of interest to anyone else. Should I just stop kidding myself and hang up my blogging ambitions? Really, do I really need to share my innermost thoughts in such a public way? Is it even public if no one reads this? I guess this is just my 40 year old version of a diary. I tried writing in a diary when I was a little girl. It looks very much like my blog. Lots of activity...then nothing for weeks or months at a time. After long periods of not writing in my diary, I would actually go back to each page I miss and write, "Sorry" "Sorry" "Sorry" - as if I was letting my diary down by not recording a daily thought. Is that something I should apologize for? Why do I feel compelled to express myself some days and not others? I am doing a lot of things. But am I really living? Experiencing? I think I'm begining to realize that I have to LIVE my life MORE in order to have something to write about. So what will I do next? What experience will I force myself to have - get outside of my comfort zone - that will ultimately be blog worthy? Stay tuned. This will be the challenge I give to myself in 2011. Live. More.

It's official. I am NOT smarter than a fifth grader.

So, school is back in session. It's only been one week and two days and I've already needed a Botox session to wipe away my stress lines. (Now if I could just squeeze in a hair appointment to cover the entirely new section of gray that has started to sprout up in places it never did before.) My kids are now in second and fifth grade. So after doing a full day's work at the office, I must go home and muddle my way through elementary math, science, social studies, and reading for two children. (Two children who would much prefer to be playing outside or watching an episode of their favorite Nickelodeon television show rerun for the 37th time.)

Thank god my husband is good at math and science. As a communications professional, reading, grammar, and English related subjects are a piece of cake for me. But math and science are a whole different story. I am finding already that I am of no assistance to my fifth grader. Just looking at a word problem makes me sweat. And we haven't gotten close to the chapter that will involve a protractor. I am embarassed to admit that I don't remember half of that gobbledy gook they are covering in fifth grade! I'm not sure how long I can keep up the charade in front of my son, who will soon figure out that not only can I NOT help him with some of his homework, but the reason I can't is because I haven't used or needed that information in 20 years! If he finds that out, it will further reinforce his belief that becoming a professional skateboarder is the most logical career choice and his time would better be spent doing kick flips in the backyard then wasting his time on homework. I'll have to figure out a way to keep up the ruse.

On an unrelated, stream of consciousness note, my new nanny is working out great! Her car died yesterday (muy malo) but she made it to work today. When I asked her in my best broken Spanish how she got to my house she answered proudly, "I lease Toyota Corrolla. No dinero, pero goooood credit!" God bless America.

What's for dinner?

Because I work full time, I rely on having a nanny/babysitter to be with my children in the afternoons when they come home from school or camp. I already suffer from working mom's guilt, so nothing is more important than having the right person to take care of my kids when I can't be there. If you've read my previous posts, you'll know that I haven't had the greatest luck with nannies and my expectations are constantly being lowered. Nannies have become the bane of my existence. When we were hiring our first nanny almost seven years ago, we of course wanted Mary Poppins....a chipper loving type who would help the kids do homework while whipping up a nutritious meal. By the time we got to nanny #5 two years ago, our job description was basically "No pedafiles or convicted criminals, must drive and be able to operate a microwave."

When we recently found ourselves having to hire someone new, I vowed to raise my standards once again and hope for the best. We were lucky to find a lovely woman, recommended through a friend of a friend, who fit the bill in every way. Except she only speaks Spanish. I decided that a simple language barrier wasn't enough to stop me from getting my dream nanny....and how great that my kids would be exposed to and potentially learn another language! So, thanks to a very cool iPhone translator app that I'm using to help with dinner instructions (para la cena!) and otherwise communicate, we survived our first week. (My husband has also downloaded the same app, but he uses it to figure out how to say dirty words in Spanish.) She's not a 100% comfortable in my kitchen yet, and we almost had an "exploding pea" incident as she was learning how to use my microwave last Thursday, but for the most part, things are working out.

I'm keeping my fingers crossed that she'll be able to concinar el pollo y arroz blanco esta noche, so wish us luck!