Finding perfection in imperfection

Growing up, we had a golden retriever named Ginger. Ginger was really my sister's dog. I thought she drooled too much and smelled weird. My sister loved her unconditionally. In her later years, Ginger developed cataracts and could not navigate the house very well. She also developed an unfortunate cluster of growths on her nether region (which we lovingly referred to as her butt warts). The grosser and smellier Ginger got, the more my sister loved her. Back then, I just didn't get it.

For many years, I searched for perfection in my life. I wanted a perfectly neat and tidy home, clean and well behaved children (we all know how that one turned out), I wanted every day to be a good hair day. Every time something did not turn out the way I wanted it to, I felt a keen sense of disappointment.

I believe that my journey over the past year or so has taught me to see that in essence, perfection is a myth. When you look at your old, blind, stinky dog with pure depth of emotion, that dog - to you - embodies perfection. I look at my life as if with different eyes these days. Messy house, kid sleeping in the living room, cat pee on the backpack, weeks between home-cooked meals....yet I can say honestly, I have never been happier. My kids desperately need haircuts and sometimes they forget to brush their teeth (and I forget to remind them!), but they are happy and healthy. My toe nails could really use some TLC, my car is making a really loud noise, but I am happy and healthy. Wish I could have learned this lesson from my sister when I was 14. Better late than never, right?

My Year of Poverty

You know what sucks about being poor? You can't buy the stuff you want. That having been said, poverty has it's benefits. I've done quite a bit of soul searching lately and always try (but sometimes fail) to put a positive spin on things. I think I've learned more this past year than I did the first 40 years of life combined. One lesson stands out above all the others: Stuff is just Stuff. Why was that one so hard to learn? Why was it so hard to let go of THINGS? Ever notice that your fear of the unknown can paralyze you? I lived in that fear for so long that I lost sight of the truly important things. Once I let go and took a leap of faith, I found the beauty of the every day that had been lost to me for so long. Yesterday, I nearly cried tears of joy when I cut open a cantaloupe and found it to be utterly perfect. A 2.00 cantaloupe. A good cycle class followed by a coffee with a friend bring me more joy than a new Kate Spade bag. Learning to find happiness in simplicity is an easy task for some, but for me it was tricky. I've always been a late bloomer.....but so glad I'm now getting the change to experience it. Don't get me wrong, some days I still wish I had a new car or a giant blingy diamond.....but I always try to remind myself of all the wonderful "things" I do have and am usually able to forget the other stuff. I never again want to live through what I have lived through over this past year, but at the same time, I would not trade it for the world :)

my future's so bright i gotta wear shades

bright and early this morning, some strange looking dude arrived to install my new dishwasher. (yippie!!). he had a crucifix tattoo on his forehead. i found it oddly fascinating.

i wonder what would inspire him to do such a thing to his face. does this crazy looking dude have a family? people who love him and make him feel safe? i feel like i want to take him in and be his friend and fix his face.

lately, i've been feeling overwhelmed with gratitude. i have a whole new life ahead of me & none of it would be possible without the help i've received along the way. and continue to receive....

my friends and family have supported me whole heartedly and i hope they know how much it has meant to me.

as i simplify my life, things are really coming into focus for me. so many lessons learned in such a short period of time. i should write a book now that i'm so wise! i'll call it "how to turn 40 without making a bunch of dumbass mistakes". I"ll be rich!

i look over at my boys: one boy sitting in the giant dishwasher box building something out of q-tips, the other boy chasing the cat around with something in his hand....nailpolish?! not sure if it's for the cat or for the kid, but either way, i love my life. i love my boys and i love my peeps.

ch-ch-ch-changes

funny thing about change. we spend so much time trying to avoid it, but when it catches up with you, you realize it's not so bad. it tends to jostle you out of your "normal" and force you to find a new way of thinking. sometimes, that's not such a bad thing. just because things are difficult does not mean that they are wrong.

there is no point in wishing for a different outcome, or second guessing any decisions made along the way. a 17 year marriage is quite an accomplishment these days, and i don't regret one second of it.

i know i'm strong enough to stand on my own two feet. and, with the help of my family and wonderful friends, i will overcome the fear of the unknown.

that having been said, it's still pretty scary stuff.

i've found myself begging friends to help me do things like put up pictures, hook up the wireless internet, and fix any and everything mechanical. yesterday, when the boys were with doug, a gigantic cockroach came charging out of the laundry room. figured the cat would capture it for me, but he was worthless......these are things i'm going to have to learn to do on my own.

not sure which tasks will be the most difficult for me. bug killing? cooking? juggling work and family? eventually, i will master them all. plus a few extras just for fun :)

toenail fungus and other summer experiences

school has been out for 24 days. 24 long, hot days. for the kids, this means 24 days of swimming, riding bikes, sleeping in, bickering, and finding new and unusual ways to drive me batty. for me this means sleeping in, breaking up fights, making millions of grilled cheese sandwiches, and going to publix as often as possible to escape the chaos.

we've already had some big adventures this summer. we've been to the beach and to a couple of out-of-town lacrosse tournaments. and, white water.....

this is the first year we have purchased season passes. i've avoided it for several reasons. but, if i'm going to be perfectly honest, i'm grossed out by the place. white water is another dimension - that just happens to be 15 minutes from my house. i have no idea where most of these people are coming from, but it is apparent that they are not concerned with their appearance. or their hygiene. it's hot in atlanta, and i totally understand the desire to wear as little clothing as possible. however, some of the clothing choices leave very little to the imagination....

sometimes i'm just not quite sure where to focus my eyes. i try to avoid staring at the over-sized bodies stuffed into under-sized bikinis....so i let my eyes wander.....down.....and then i remember....NEVER, EVER look down at white water! hideous, massively disgusting feet at every turn. toenail fungus the likes of which i have never experienced in all my almost 40 years. if it wasn't so icky, it would be fascinating.

i'm a bit of a germ o phobe. this just adds to the multitude of challenges we face at white water. the first time we went, i decided to try out the lunch options. i bathed the kids and myself in purell, and we headed over to the burger place. after waiting in line for 45 minutes and throwing $42 on the counter, we found a spot to sit down (no shady spots left, so we sat on the surface of the sun) and bit into our burgers. BLECH! i think my kids would have preferred brussel sprouts. the fries were good though :)

this having been said, we will be returning this week. now that i know the food is awful and the feet are heinous, i can plan accordingly. it is summer after-all. and it's worth the ick to be able to sit in the shade with my kindle for a few hours....

sometimes the right thing still feels wrong

recently, it became necessary for me to say goodbye to a friend who i thought would be in my life forever. for me, it feels like a divorce. although i know the "break-up" was absolutely the right move, i'm fighting some very conflicted feelings.

as i've worked through these feelings the past several days, i've thought about relationships both good and bad. positive and negative. we all have them. why do we hang onto relationships that are toxic? friendship should be easy and fun. our friends should be the ones who lift us up and make us feel special. life is hard. and short. we should embrace the positive and cut out the negative whenever possible.

i'm the kind of person who hangs onto people for life. some might call it loyalty, some might call it desperation. whatever the reason, i'm not used to ending relationships.

so, if i know it was right, why does it feel wrong?

love hate and pralines

tomorrow the kids and i head down to tybee island. we take this trip at least once per year. the kids love fishing off the pier on tybee. i love sitting and looking out at the ocean. we spend the first couple of days on the beach, and when everyone is sufficiently crispy, we take a day to go into savannah.

for me, this is always a trip down memory lane. for them, it's torture worse than death. i bribe them with pralines as i point out my old high school, my old house, all my friends houses, the synagogue where we were married, the bench where i had my first kiss, my favorite chinese restaurant (now a dry cleaner), favorite deli which served my favorite grilled cheese sandwich, the curb i tripped over and broke my toe, the hospital where my dad died, the mall, my favorite taco bell, favorite gyro wrap (now called great wraps - not sure why?), my grandparents old house, the gas station that sold me beer when i was 15 (i leave that part out of my narration), the parking meter i always parked by because it was always broken, the seafood restaurant with the really, really good hushpuppies, .....and the list goes on and on....

we always make a trip to bonaventure cemetery where my dad is buried. it is one of my favorite places in the world. huge oak trees hanging heavy with spanish moss and old, old grave stones overlooking the marsh. we usually spend the first 10 minutes searching for the grave site (i swear they move it around to mess with my head). by this point we're dying from dehydration and heat stroke. when i return from the car with the water, i find that someone has been kicking dirt on someone. then find out that the dirt is really a fire ant mound. screaming ensues. followed by crying. so, we leave. good times. always glad to spend quality time in what should be such a peaceful place.

on the way back to the beach i always wonder why i bother. but then i remember. i bother because it's my history. hopefully one day they will bring their own families on tours of their childhoods and their kids won't give a crap either. that's love, right?