A Good Cry ( With a Side of Chocolate)

Over the last week ( or so), I have stared at this blank page on my computer,
     trying to "will" a story out of my head, and onto my blog page.   

Nothing.

The responsibilities of life have got me down -
     the right side of my brain, plagued with the inability to produce creative thought. 

Still . . . . . . nothing. 

Instead, my head - swarming with thoughts, concerns, worries.

Not just those of my own, but ( it seems ) everyone else's.

Such is the burden of being a mom -
     absorbing the stresses of everyone around us, stockpiling it onto our own,
until the weight becomes too much to bare.  

That's when our coping mechanisms kick in.
 
Like . . . . .

     a good cry, or . . . . . . chocolate.

This morning, I had both.  

That reminds me to add something to my "responsibility list" : 

BUY MORE CHOCOLATE. 

 






 



 


 

Another Giraffe

So, there seems to be an unusual, reoccurring theme in my life, lately. 

Not too long ago, I had the dream about driving around with a giraffe in my car. 

Recently, while waiting for a traffic light to turn green, 
     I noticed a hand written sign posted on the nearby street sign that read -

Missing:  Giraffe Painting.

I'll keep an eye out. 

Fall

Fall.

That's exactly what happens every damn year.   
I stroll through the summer months of July and August feeling happy and content,
until .....................

BAM!  

OUCH!   

I stumble into something unrecognizable and "fall" on my ass,
     feeling so stunned (as I sit there on the hard pavement),
that I can't get up. 

So, I just sit there.

Stunned.

Until, I realize it was the flipping of the (or just plain "flipping") calendar that hit me so hard.

The word AUGUST has been replaced with S-E-P-T-E-M-B-E-R.  

Ugh. 

As a friend of mine recently mentioned on Facebook,
     it's like being forced to give up summer COLD TURKEY.

Like a roller coaster that goes from 0 to 90 in a split second,
     school begins without even giving you a chance to tie your shoes.

In the first week of school, alone, there were 3 Back-to-school nights
     and 1 Senior/Parent college night.   


Followed by soccer practice ( 4 times a week ), soccer games, tutors, driving school,
hockey lessons, allergy shots, carpools, haircuts, school pictures,
orthodontist appointments . . . . . .

Not to mention the "Mom, I need a ride here," or, "Mom, I forgot my ............"

My plan this "Fall" is to go back to school and work.
I am still trying to figure out how to do that.
I know, at some point, I just have to jump right in.
There are plenty of parents out there who juggle it all.
But, I am not a "jump right in" kind of girl.
I like to feel the waters first - the temperature, the rate at which it is moving, the depth . . . . . .  the mood.


Last night, David Letterman had a guest on his show who falls all the time.
He started out with skydiving and free falling from buildings,
but he is most famous for his "flying squirrel" suit that enables him to "glide" through the sky
at speeds of over 100 miles per hour.  

CRAZY.  

I have no interest in jumping off buildings, or flying through the air in a rubber squirrel suit,
     but maybe I should take up skydiving.

Every year, on the last day of August.

Maybe it would help me transition into Fall.

After all, what's the worst that could happen?  

My parachute won't work ? ? ?
   

    
 

Gray

My hair was becoming longer than before the birth of my second child (who is now 15),
     and the unruly, gray colored ones were attempting to build a nest
on the top of my head.

I was counting the days until my appointment.   

In the meantime, our entire area was caught up in a vortex of hurricane-like weather
     and tropical storms, one after the other,
causing it to rain for days and nights . . . . . . days and nights.   

Until . . . . . .
           
               the creeks, and gutters, and sewers, and drain pipes
could no longer contain the amount of water being poured into them,
causing it to spill out onto the streets like giant buckets being poured from the sky,
carrying with it tree branches, debris . . . . . . and cars.  

Street after street became impassible and unrecognizable,
     turning into rivers and ponds.

Bridges, obsolete - disappeared.

For miles and miles, gridlocked cars, barely inching along - going nowhere.  

School buses, filled with children, with no place to go.   


It took me an hour and a half to travel three miles to pick up my son from school,
     put gas in the car (  it was on empty ), then back home.   

In our neighborhood, water was shooting out of the sewer like a geyser,
     ten feet into the sky, landing in the flooded roadway.

That was Thursday evening, and the rain was to continue through the night,
     and into the next day.  

School for Friday was canceled.

I awoke Friday morning to a . . .

          "Boom!"

and then a . . .

          "MO-om!  The electricity just went out!"

The good news was that without the light,
     I could no longer see my gray hairs in the mirror.  

My appointment was scheduled for 12:00.
 
I texted my girlfriend / stylist.

     "Are you going to make it into the salon today?
                           If not, I am coming to your house!" I said.

She texted back to me ( in the words of Michael Jackson ) -  "I'll be there."

     THERE IS A GOD.  

I drove in the rain to get there, and after two hours, the gray was gone.   

No, I mean, REALLY - the gray was gone.

For, when I opened the door to leave the salon, 

     there was a light and a brightness, 

a warmth upon my skin . . . . . .  and in the sky, the color of blue.      

No gray on my head, no gray in the sky.  

LIFE IS GOOD.  

And, when I arrived back home, the electricity was back on.  

Unfortunately, I know that the gray will eventually return ( in one form, or another).  

But, there is solace in knowing that there will always be color.

There will ALWAYS be color.
                                                                            
                                                                               




 

 

 

The Wrong Room

I was attending the senior/parent college night
     at my daughter's high school, trying VERY hard (after a very long day and an early rise)
to pay attention to all of the detailed information thrown at us by the three
well-intentioned college advisors,
     when I realized that I was in the wrong room. 

     "I know we are all Type "A" personalities," (one of them said),
                 "and, we want as much information as we can get,
                                                   in order to feel like we are in control."

Control?

There are people in this world who are under the illusion that they are in control?


     "Excuse me?" I said (on the inside of my head),
                 "Where is the meeting for Type "B" personalities?