I lost my Energy

Colin laid his head on the kitchen counter. He had sleepy eyes and a heavy head. He gave a big sigh and said, “Mommy, I lost my energy.”

The kid is 3 years old! He exudes energy and pizazz! Where did his “energy” go and for that matter, how does he even know that word?

I feel like that sometimes. Today is one of those days. I lost my energy somewhere between 10 pm and 7 am and I’m unlikely to find it soon. I feel torn in multiple directions and I don’t know where to start and stop. A friend asked me the other day which hat I wear the most in my many roles. I have no idea! I’d like to pare down to two or three hats instead of six or seven, but I’m still not sure what needs to give the most yet.

All I need is a week on a beach with a cabana boy bringing me my umbrella drinks and my energy would resurface quite quickly, I am sure.

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ode to sushi and girls

    

I went out for sushi a few nights ago.  I love the stuff, but my last fix was so long ago that I had begun to feel like a sushi virgin.  A dear friend suggested it and I’m so glad I went! There’s something about the prettiness of the food that makes it taste so much better. Granted, I’ll probably die of mercury poisoning within a week, but it’ll be worth it.

That night out also got me thinking about friendship between women.  There is something about hanging out with the girls that makes life so much more tolerable than if we surround ourselves only with our husbands and children. Where else can you talk about your neurotic nature without judgment. Let’s face it; women are all a little nuts about something or other and we all understand that in someone else. Where else can we talk about our bodies (and other people’s bodies) in explicit detail and not feel embarrassed. We’ve all got the same parts and since we’re required to pop out babies and then breast feed, we no longer feel as though our bodies are our own. Our girlfriends “get” that.  Women that have had those pleasures simply don’t mind talking about boobs.

Another great positive about hanging out with the girls is that we’re all different. The men we’re married to are so similar to ourselves. (That happens after the first week of marriage). It’s nice to be with someone who you could never live with but yet are willing to spill your guts to. 

For example: I am so disorganized and laid back about my living spaces. I haven’t decorated my house in the four years we’ve been here. I haven’t bought new furniture or painted more than one or two walls. Yet, many of my friends live in perfectly coiffed homes and spend time cleaning each day. Not me! We could never live together.

My sushi buddy and I are so alike in so many ways, and so different in others. I am short; she’s tall. I hate exercise; she’s paid to do it. I’m a home body; she travels a lot. I love gardening; she’s not too sure. But…we both like big cars and wearing sweats all day. We both drink too much coffee. We both have drive and desire to succeed. Our sons are interchangable and I’d trust her with mine and she trusts me with hers.

And, we both love sushi.

All women are so much alike and yet so different. We pool our resources and our passions and mingle in this place of total acceptance regardless of who we are and where we’re from. We relish other’s life experiences and ponder over what it would be like to be someone else for a day. We care very deeply for our families and yet we’re all “the worst mother in the world” at one time or another. We all “get it” when no one else can. 

We could never live together; but we’d die without each other.

Week One Down

Well, one week later and we’re doing okay. I made the decision to cut back my work schedule in order to be available more at home. It was a simple decision, but not an easy one. It impacts a lot of people in various ways; not all good ones.

 The therapists are here every other day to help Andy’s dad with his continuing needs. In between their visits, he still does whatever he wants. I guess we just have to learn to be very patient with him as he is acclimating. He’s used to doing everything his way.  It’s hard to give up control.