The sun is shining, the birds are singing, the tree pollen count is crazy high which means everyone under the Big Top is suffering with some degree of allergic misery and we are slathering ourselves with sunscreen.
Melanoma is so twentieth century.
What is this thing they call twentieth century, Fallon wonders?
Oh whatever…sunscreen…wear it…everyday!
Oh to be 12 years younger! The things I would (and most definitely would not) do. But one can not go back in time…can they?
My darling husband early this morning ran in Dell Osso’s 2nd Annual Mud Run on the Farm. Yes, the same mud run I ran last year. He trained a little with his Krav Maga class that he takes twice a week but I won’t lie to you, I was genuinely concerned about how he would do…considering how heavily he STILL smokes (even when he often finds himself gasping for air after a coughing fit) and considering how high his cholesterol is and that study released this past week linking male patterned baldness to a higher risk of heart disease.I had a dream/nightmare last night that he collapsed while running and then I woke up…HATE when that happens! So this morning, as he headed off to run in the mud and Jodie and I headed off to another dance competition I couldn’t help but be worried.
What can I say, I sometimes often worry for nothing. It’s my nature, it’s who I am, it is a result of decades of bad things happening and my worst fears realized. But, thankfully, Bill did great completing the run and obstacles in the mud in just under an hour.
Way to go, honey!!!
So now I could exhale, relax and enjoy watching Jodie and Hazel dance. Then the phone rings…
Actually it was FaceTime…
Up pops my daughter Zoë. She’s crying. Her face is bruised and bleeding and she is crying. It seems that she was in an accident on her way to work. She crashed her skateboard.
WHAT?!
Yeah, she likes to get from point A to point B on a skateboard and yeah, without a helmet…
Mom, please…
But yes, she crashed her skateboard and hit her head, scraped up her face, chipped a tooth and broke her nose…broke her nose for now the 4th time.
OH dear glob! And people think I’m joking when I declare that she has an exhausted guardian angel who probably cringes every single time she leaves the house.
Every.
Single.
Time.
She is so lucky.
So damn lucky.
And I am perhaps another 20 years older thanks to her latest misadventure.
I might have aged greatly but this picture she sent to me while in the ER in LA took me back 12 years…and not in a good way.
I swear hours later I am just starting to breathe a little bit easier. Thank goodness for a late night run and some wine. My darling husband rocked the mud run today. My dancing daughter, Jodie and my tiny dancing grand daughter, Hazel, both are off to a great start with this weekend’s dance competition earning high awards and my daughter Zoë is home safe in LA under the watchful eye of her boyfriend…and a guardian angel who likely could use a good stiff drink right about now.
Passing the time in the dance studio while waiting on Jodie to finish teaching her class and Daniel to finish his hip hop class I did what I usually do.
Hello Twitter!
And while reading through my peoples tweets I came across this:
Good ol’ cousin Joe. No, we aren’t really related. Then again…perhaps…maybe…
But I digress…like I often do…Bill complains often how exhausting conversation with me can be because I go off on crazy tangents all the time.
Whatever!
Wait! What was I talking about?
Oh.
Yeah.
Cousin Joe wants to know what was the best thing that happened to me today.
I start to scroll through the answers other people share with him…
…holding new babies for the first time
…good news from the doctor, no cancer!
…hugs
…safe travels home
…band concerts
…praise from a student’s parents
…birthdays
…breakfast dates
…dinner dates
…ice cream dates
…song writing success
And then I try to think again what was the best thing that happened to me today…
I’m stumped.
No, it wasn’t a bad day or a horrible day or a dark day. It was just a day. A day where I took Jodie to school then took Daniel to school. It was a day where I sipped my coffee while watching the Cardinals take their oaths before they were to begin the papal selection process. Then I did the dishes and scrubbed the baseboards upstairs. I tried to explain to Abby why popes always seem to be really old guys; followed by a discussion of what I learned from Anatomy & Physiology. I wanted to ask her if perhaps she was reconsidering her plan to be the next E! reporter and on air personality and maybe following her mom into nursing but she had to go tanning.
Yeah.
Soon enough it was time to go pick up Jodie from school then pick up Daniel. Then there was homework and dinner prep and more homework followed by taking Daniel to hip hop class. On the way home from dance, I debated with Daniel the merits of taking a shower and washing every part of his body, including his hair.
Eleven year olds and hygiene is just too challenging…and no, it is not just a “boy thing”…trust me.
I help Daniel blow dry his hair then kiss him good night and here I am…trying to figure out what was the best thing that happened to me today.
…?…
Um…
Well my hair looked good.
There is that.
It is very important to look good when one is scrubbing baseboards, chauffering kids and working on 4th grade homework.
Too shallow?
Sorry, Cousin Joe. Today my life was boring. Perhaps THAT is the best thing about today.
It has been pretty dark around here. I’ve been pretty dark. I know I have been scaring my kids and my darling husband a little. I know that because I know how I felt growing up watching my own Mommy Dearest slump into her darkest days.
My darkest moment earlier this week came when as I was gathering all the information the IRS is demanding from us, I could almost hear Mr. Potter’s voice in my head…the part where he looks at George Bailey and says “You’re worth more dead than alive!” That was a scary thought rambling around in my head. And as it crossed my mind so did the memories of the times when my Mommy Dearest would have the strength to get up. Too many times as a child I bore witness to her unsuccessful attempts on her own life. I don’t ever doubt the pain she was in or the hopelessness that she felt. Still while I love her so (in spite of what my brother and sister believe) I have never been able to reconcile those acts. Becoming a mother really made it impossible for me to do so. No matter how dark and hopeless and worthless I might feel, I look to my darling husband, my five beautiful circus clowns…my greatest achievements ever... and my gorgeous grandbabies and well, I see just how wonderful my life is because of them…in spite of my fears, my anxieties, my depths of despair.
How lucky am I?
I can not turn away from such wonderfulness…not ever.
Then there are the friends, old and new, acquaintances and people whom I have never, ever met, but have had conversations with who have reached out. It all overwhelms me in a good way…in a very good way. So like George Bailey, I see light as I realize in spite of what is most definitely an impossible situation, I am surrounded by a lot of love and am indeed enjoying a wonderful life.
I won’t lie, it would be even better if y’all had showed up with baskets and baskets of money…unless you are coming over later.
Are you?
Regardless, it is a wonderful life and I promise that I am working hard to appreciate that and to enjoy every minute of it.
Struggling…struggling much, much too hard here. Since receiving news Friday that will gravely affect our finances, our Big Top, our family, our ability to care for our family, I have become unbelievably overwhelmed…
and crying a lot…
and sleepless…
and literally shaky…
and not hungry…
and on and on.
I’m already barely hanging on with depression and anxiety that my former family doctor was certain I could fix with hypnosis. Hormone therapy and running (oh thank glob for running!) keeps me going as does my circus clowns but Friday I was knocked down…knocked down hard. Getting up earlier this week I was knocked down even harder trying to solve our problems because the care and feeding and housing of my family does not matter much at all when The Man demands that which you don’t have…right now! Miss Hardy of the IRS made that very clear to me. Prove your hardship. Prove that you must house and clothe and feed your circus act and then maybe we won’t take away all your money that you can barely live on paycheck to paycheck is what she told me. In the meantime, it belongs to The Man.
I felt as if I could not breathe. And then for almost an hour I went to a very, very dark place inside myself. It froze me. I felt as if I was encased in concrete or perhaps frozen in carbonite. Frozen in that dark place, I have never felt so hopeless, so demoralized, so unable to do anything…except that which my mind seemed to be telling me I must do. It was such a scary idea in my mind.
Yeah, I could very well be having a nervous breakdown. Aren’t you glad I am oversharing that?
Sorry. I just can’t help myself.
I need help.
Desperately so, I know…and no, Dr. Assdale, I don’t imagine that hypnosis is what I need.
But first I must fill out this damn 433F form, as well as 656 Form and then call back Miss Hardy and beg for a little grace…grace I certainly don’t deserve but dammit my family does!
I can’t wait to call her back because I know I can not emotionally and physically take verbal insults and abuse from her again.
But I have to. I must. I have no other choice.
But before I do, I took a break…a brief break, but a very much needed break and journeyed to Oz with Jodie.
Looking through these Oz colored glasses while enjoying a sneak preview of Oz, The Great and Powerful was a much needed balm. An oh-so, but desperately required respite before I completely fall apart and actually listen to that voice in that very dark place.
Don’t worry, I won’t listen to that voice, not ever. I guess that is one good thing Mommy Dearest taught me by doing…to herself…repeatedly…when I was just a child. Actually I credit my circus clowns who call me away, distract me, love me and hold on to me so tightly.
The movie? I enjoyed it. I’ll share a review later. But first I must finish filling out those forms and then prepare to call Miss Hardy back.
If you pray or think good thoughts or light candles or are into voodoo I need all of it desperately.
Thank you.
