Today I completed Goal #6 – 43 consecutive days with no alcohol.
Today I completed Goal #6 – 43 consecutive days with no alcohol.
“I have a hard time defending the production of candy, given that it is basically crack for children and makes them dependent in unwholesome ways.”
“Nothing on Earth (is) so beautiful as the final haul on Halloween night.”
Author of Candyfreak: A Journey through the Chocolate Underbelly of America
I’ve been running for a few weeks now. Normally I go with my neighbor. But she has relatives in town. So tonight it was all me.
During my run I was fretting about the age difference between my children and me. I was focusing on the need to eat healthier. What should I really be ingesting to give myself the energy to keep up with PJ and Little Dude? I was contemplating asking a friend who I know is a few years older than me, but has kids the same age as mine. Then I had the following thought… what if I just started to feed my kids more junk? Instead of trying to keep up with them, I could try to slow them down with crappy food. I keep hearing about childhood obesity and sedentary kids maybe that is what I should be going for.
As I was considering this evil and therefore likely to succeed plan I realized my mouth was getting dry and nasty. I needed to spit. These days nothing cheers me up when running more than spitting. Good form, nice distance, no splashback. My body might not make you immediately think “athlete” but my spitting ability is pure jock.
Proud of myself I continued to run and ponder if spitting was just too disgusting to blog about. The sun was quickly setting on what had been a very breezy, cool day. I reached the top of a hill, looked to my left and there was a girl in a bikini standing at the top of a waterfall having her picture taken by a guy who definitely was NOT a professional photographer. I stared as I ran by. Really there was no point in not staring. Clearly these were not people who worried about privacy. And because I had nothing else to think about I went back and forth between judging them (“What are they thinking?”) and judging myself (“Why are you so judgmental? Maybe they are just getting in a few last shots and they actually know what they are doing. And why do you care anyway?”)
The rest of my loop was downhill and I quickly (relative terms here, people) arrived at the playground where my husband and kids were hanging out. I asked PJ if she wanted to do the final loop with me. I loaded her in the baby jogger and we set off to do the small, inner loop that takes me past the bottom of the waterfall. But then I had an idea, I could make a right turn and do a longer loop and go past the top of the waterfall again. I’m a voyeur by nature and I just had to look.
The sun was now below the horizon, it was fully dusk. Even if the photographer had professional lighting equipment, he would have called it a day. But not this couple because sure ‘nough, they were still there. Piper turned around in the stroller looking back and forth at them and then me and saying something that I couldn’t hear because of my ipod. I imagine she was complaining, “You said it was too cold for me to wear sandals, and she is only wearing a bathing suit.”
To the girl in the bikini and the boy taking her picture, thank you. Because of you I ran farther today than I planned. Instead of feeling bad about being old and tired, I felt grateful to be mature and wise. Instead of listening to the sound of my own ragged breath, I could hear myself chuckling all the way back to the car.
I have been feeling sorry for myself. And I think I have a claim that my road really has been a little rough.
Take the first week in May…
Go to Ethiopia pick up son while husband moves family across country and father has two unexpected major operations. In the meantime leave nearly 2-yr-old daughter who has never spent night away from me with sister who she has only actually met four times.
The month of June…
Live in new town with No friends, No family, No support system, shell-shocked 2-yr-old bio kid, and new to family 1-yr-old. Cat breaks toe. Big dog bites little dog’s face makes eyeball pop out of socket. Have to euthanize big dog for unpredictable aggressive behavior. Have to deal with husband who was close to dog. Have to deal with 2-yr-old who is very confused about where the dog is. Father has more medical procedures.
Then comes July, August, September…
Unbelievable heat and humidity keeping family stuck in small rental house. Husband’s new job nothing like we expected. Husband not being paid what he is supposed to be paid. No potential buyers for old house. Giardia, scabies, ringworm-no-wait-white-piedra, hand, foot and mouth, viruses with temps of 105 degrees, ear infection, sinus infection. Father has still more medical procedures. Daughter is convinced that dead dog is living at our old house and wants to talk about her, often.
And now October…
The weather is better but my father was hospitalized with chest pains. My nephew is struggling with lots of stuff that makes me worry. My computer is dying a slow, agonizing death. We have burned through our savings paying both rent and a mortgage and my husband’s paychecks are still 13% less than they should be.
Next up November…
Everyone says the post-adoption, six-month mark is magic. You hit your stride and most of the serious adjustments (and diarrhea) are behind you. And I think this is what is actually pissing me off. Because adoption wise we are great, but life wise, well, are you sure you don’t want to buy a house in Oregon? Conversely, are you sure you don’t have a job for me or my husband there – within commuting distance to the HOUSE WE OWN?
I miss my friends. I miss my chiropractor. I miss the mountains and the ocean. I miss having a big dog.
Blah, blah, blah.
Then I look at my Facebook friends.
I have a friend whose cat has cancer. I have a friend who’s been out of work for almost a year. I have a friend whose uncle just had a brain aneurysm. I have a friend whose brother just had a motorcycle accident and is still fighting for his life – he has children. I have a friend with five small children whose husband was just deployed to Afghanistan. I have a friend who adopted the same time as me and is facing huge attachment challenges. I have a friend who is younger than me who was just diagnosed with cancer – she has a baby.
So I keep telling myself to, well, get over myself. And I will. Probably today. Because I just finished eating the last package of cookie dough and I have no choice.