So, as I look back on the month I wonder how it all got done.  I wonder if I did my best.  I wonder if anyone else in my family even realizes how much I struggle with keeping all the balls in the air.  Of course, I know my BFFs are completely aware of my struggle.  Thank God for girlfriends.  Sometimes life seems so busy.  During January, I always feel that I throw everything up in the air and watch how it falls.

Here’s my own report card:

ski trip - big success

back to school - still not quite in the swing of homework but almost

boys’ birthdays - filled with memories

elf taxes - completed and getting postmarked today (last possible day to avoid penalties)

teaching - lesson plans are a mess.  Uh oh!

condo - rented to new tenants.  Cleaning crew and carpet cleaners are there right now to ensure a sparkling condo by February 1st.

Winter Formal - tux ordered, corsage ordered, dinner reservations made, tickets purchased

It always comes together in the end.  I’ve decided I need a wife.  Someone who helps me with every little detail without ever having to ask.  Hmmmm, where do I get one of those?

Here’s the thing, I’m a HUGE believer in handing out compliments.  Not just for the sake of sucking up to anyone - OH NO!  But, for example, if you see someone that looks like they lost weight, tell them; if you notice something super cute on a stranger, tell them; look at the person at the drive-through and smile; hug your husband and kids extra tight; …  My whole philosophy is if you can make someone smile for no money at all - do it!  It’s free!  We’re in a recession and doing things for free is trendy, right?

Anyway, my story goes that yesterday I was feeling a little down on myself.  My family is taking a much anticipated trip to Hawaii in April and I really need to get in shape.  My arms are jiggling and my cellulite is more than noticeable.  There will be pictures of me in a bikini in 3 months so I have no time to waste.  My plan was to join a new Pilates studio in my neighborhood and look like Jennifer Aniston in 6 weeks. 

OK, so yesterday I allowed someone to make me feel a little down.  Well, not just a little down - but a whole lot down.  They said it and I allowed it.  Instead of being my own cheerleader (as I happily am for everyone else), I took the comments as an attack and couldn’t pull myself out of it.  I just wanted to curl up in a ball and go to sleep - but who can do that?  I have two kids.  My two BFFs said all the right things to bring me up, but I just assumed that they have to say that.  That’s their job. 

But then this morning, in the pouring rain, I walked into Pilates class and the instructor asked me if I knew Leila (someone who was on the reformer next to me last week).  I have no idea who Leila is because when I work out I am in my own zone…not looking at anyone and quite honestly, hoping nobody is looking at me.  Leila asked the instructor who I was and commented on my super cute mom body.  Stop!  Ta Da!  My world changed from cloudy to sunshine!  I think I even heard angels singing.  First of all, I dwelled on the “mom body” part for a minute, and then I allowed myself to be completely picked up and out of my blue zone.  Snap!  Just like that I was happy!  A complete stranger who wasn’t even there at the time made my day.  Her one little comment changed everything for me. 

This is why I’m a strong believer in freely giving compliments!  You just never know how powerful your words can be.  Thank you, Leila…whomever you are!

But having two January birthdays created a Martha Stewart neurosis in me.  The drive to make their day special to each of them, despite the fact that Christmas was less than a month ago and their birthdays are basically on top of each other.  This is when the very identifiable neurotic birthday curse happened.  It happens every year and fills me with anxiety.  My husband has learned to stand back and watch it unfold.  He says only positive things because I will have none of his peanut gallery suggestions or comments.  I know it’s controlling.  What can I say?  He puts his trust in me and morphs into my assistant (probably because he has learned to never go against a mom and her passion for her children’s happiness.  I see husband assistants at most children’s parties.  It’s an unwritten rule in my suburb.)  The neurosis goes something like this:

Neurotic habit #1 - take down all Christmas “stuff” by January 1 and create a birthday house.

Neurotic habit #2 - create a unique birthday invitation as special as each child.  It must be hand-made and 3-dimensional.

Neurotic habit #3 - coordinate a new and exciting birthday theme that identifies each child’s current love.  This theme has to be something that hasn’t been done in the past.  I don’t want to replicate someone else’s Pirate Party or Indiana Jones Party.

Neurotic habit #4 - calendar several other birthday events to include extended family and family friends who aren’t invited to the over-the-top kid party.

Neurotic habit #5 - find the perfect gift.  Extremely challenging as Christmas was three weeks earlier.

Neurotic habit #6 - lose Christmas pounds and get back to the gym.  OK, this has nothing to do with their birthdays and everything to do with me…but it’s still always on the list in January.

Neurotic habit #7 - appear as if I whipped all this together with little effort and look as happy and well-rested as can be.  Why is this even on the list?  I’m not sure why I do this.

Neurotic habit #8 - think, think, think of every way to ensure they feel special.  Mustn’t leave out even one detail or I will be beating myself up for the balance of the year.

So, why do I attend my very own party of one on January 19th?  Because it’s over!  The planning is over and their actual birthdays are over.  It’s the day I reflect on my efforts and always pat myself on the back for a job well done.  The first question that I ask myself is if I think they put their head on their pillow and felt special and celebrated.  My answer is always YES!  I wish I could stop with just that question and be done with it…but I can’t.  My next questions are always - what will I change for next year and how could I do it better.  UGH!  Sometimes a party at Chuckie Cheese doesn’t sound so bad!  As for me - today is going to be all about me!  I’m going to Pilates and the gym with NO guilt.  I LOVE January 19th!!!

On January 18, 1995, I met one of the loves of my life.  This was a love like no other I had known.  There should be mommy vows taken at birth.  It should be ceremonious.  After-all, it’s easier and much more likely that women will divorce their husbands then divorce their children.  The vows should be something like I will love you unconditionally, support you, allow you to vomit on me, teach you to walk, teach you to talk (which I truly did regret at certain ages), let you keep me up nights, kick me in the stomach while co-sleeping (co-sleeping wasn’t ever my plan, it just seemed to work out that way for a couple of years), give you all my money, cater to your every need, wipe away your every tear, feel your pain, feel your joy….and all you have to do is live here.

As for the backseat question - my answer has evolved.  15 years ago I would’ve answered a quick, vehement YES!  Now, I’m not so sure.  15 years ago for some reason I bought into the 1-dimensional life of Super Mommy Wannabe.  Don’t get me wrong, at the time I found this life to be so overwhelmingly fulfilling.  I built my Stay-At-Home mom soap box and I proudly stood on it.  I willingly chose to give up so much of myself because I thought it was hands down the right thing to do.  Personally, I felt anything less than this would be selfish seeing that my husband had a great job and we could afford to make this choice.  I gave my life to my children.  I really didn’t have anything else.  Sure, I had other moms from the play groups, scrapbooking friends, gym friends…but all this was in the name of being Super Mom.  Losing my independence happened slowly.  It was a very gradual death until one day I realized how shallow I had become.  I felt like I had nothing to add to the conversation between adults.  I lost my passion, my zest.  One day I woke up to understand that my anxiety was truly a scream for more from me.  Not a scream to be a better mom, but a scream to be a better me.  I always knew there was more for me.  That’s when I started plotting and planning my more balanced life.  Hmmmm, how was I going to have a life that was fulfilling for my children, yet still fulfilling for me?  I was entering an unchartered course.  It took me awhile to let go of the guilt of dividing my time.  There were going to be less home-made cookies, less volunteer hours at school, more piles of laundry and I was going to have to learn to say no without guilt.  Eventually, I found a happy balance. 

My children continue to be #1 on my priority list.  There’s nothing like the joy of knowing that they lay there heads on their pillows each night with thoughts of the beautiful day they had and that I was a part of it…it’s just now I do the same thing.  Yes, I did take a backseat to my children, and I still do - but now I do it with a joyful heart because I have more balance for me.  And guess what…sometimes they take a backseat to me!

Let me start by saying my mom and I have been down our share of rocky roads.  Looking at our obvious personality characteristics, we were opposites.  Because of that, I never did feel that my mom understood me.  I grew up telling myself that I would never be like my mom.  But here’s the thing - I was so much like my mom and she was always my biggest fan.  What I’ve learned from my recent journey is that a relationship between a mother and a daughter is complicated, intricate, intense and priceless.  It is also a relationship I will never know as ”the Mother” because I have boys. 

Thursday, September 24th, started out like any other day.  My youngest son had a 1/2 day at school and it was my turn to host the 1/2-day play date.  What this meant to me was that my house would be turned into a 9-boy-testosterone-zone for 2-3 hours.  I would need food and activities.  You learn very quickly that without these two things, your beautiful home becomes their haven…and it’s not pretty.

For those of you that know me, you know that a shower is considered optional on my To Do list.  I will admit to going more than one day (and more than one spin class) without a shower.  That’s what hats are for, right?  For some reason, on September 24th, I opted to skip my morning gym routine and take a shower.  I was happy with this choice later.   I then ran a couple errands and had 20 minutes to pick up the pizzas before the boys graced me with their presence.  I was talking on my cell phone when my sister beeped in.  Then she beeped in again, and again and again.  Honestly, I was getting a little annoyed.  When I finally got in the car with the pizzas, I called her back.  That’s the moment that everyone began to sound like Charlie Brown’s teacher.  She said my mom was in the hospital and had had a massive heart attack.  OKAY!  WHAT????  How could this be?  I just talked to her 3 days before and she sounded great.  She was excited about lots of upcoming plans she had and was asking about visiting in November to see the boys and help with the elves.  At this point I couldn’t even hear my sister, other than her telling me she was going to check on flights and call me back.  That’s when the smell of pizza came over me and I realized I was hosting a big play date in 15 minutes.  OMG!  My next call was to my husband, who was unreachable, of course.  My next call was to my friend, Marianne, to ask her if she would stay at my house and host the play date.  Yes was the only thing I could hear her say.  I was on a flight out of Burbank an hour later.

Once we arrived at the hospital, I felt more in control but only to realize later that I was in denial - really big denial.  My mom was unconscious.  She was hooked up to all kinds of machines.  Someone was stationed outside her room and her room only.  I didn’t think this to be strange at the time because I would’ve insisted that someone drop everything to care for my mom like this anyway.  Doctors would come into the room and apologize to my sister and me.  I kept thinking they were apologizing for our quick journey or something.  What does, “we’re so sorry” really mean anyway?  Sorry for what?  We’re here and my mom’s here and breathing so what exactly are they sorry for?  And I couldn’t for the life of me figure out why they would say bad words/phrases to me like grim, dire, hour by hour, …  At no time did I realize that they were just keeping my mom alive with life support.  They were keeping her alive because I didn’t get it.  I wasn’t having it.  I couldn’t wrap my arms around what was really going on.  BUT, 11 hours later my mom was gone and I haven’t been the same since.   

Life as I knew it was over.  I never realized how much of a day-to-day impact my mom had on my every day life.  Losing a parent is huge.  The grieving is massive.  The What-Ifs are constant.  The silence is scary.  Of course, I’m looking for the lesson in this all.  I don’t know if there really is a lesson.  I am learning how to maneuver through life as the oldest surviving immediate family member.  It’s strange to think about.  Mostly, I am trying to hang onto what’s real and the people I love.  I’ve realized in the biggest way that life is short and the only way to be is true and real.  I’m learning that I’m incredibly strong, yet still very fragile.  I guess I’m stronger than I am fragile…and I’m back to blogging.  YAY for me!

My friend was my neighbor right next door.  We moved into our new homes at the same time.  We shared home builder problems, holidays, life, death, “discussions” with our husbands, thoughts on raising kids, recipes…  She taught me how to make ribs and breakfast muffins.  She assured me that IT REALLY DOES MATTER that every Christmas present needs to wrapped in coordinating paper with huge bows.  She spent the day doing touch ups of paint in my bedroom while I sat on my bed paying bills because I had totally forgotten.  She “made” me go to the berry farm to pick berries (in heels) because she was quite sure my children shouldn’t be eating processed jelly and I needed to can a years worth.  She helped me lift my dog into a wheelbarrow when he was sick so we could transport him into the back of her car and drive him to the vet.  He died the next day.  (Our husbands were out of town.)  She showed up at my door with soup when I was sick AND took my kids so I could sleep.  But most of all, she was always willing to share a diet coke at any time of day!  Now every mom out there knows that none of these things are that big of a deal…but the loss of your “go to” friend is huge.  It takes a long time to cultivate this bond and with her it came so easily.

As time went on, I moved away and then moved back, but down the street.  My boys became boys and her girls became girls - so our paths didn’t cross as much.  Suddenly we were both running in different directions.  She started a business and then I started a business.  We kept saying we wanted to go to lunch and it never happened.  Blah, blah, blah…we all know how this story goes.  But then, one day she called to say she was moving.  A piece of my heart died right then and there.  Flashes of all we’d done and the time we spent together started rushing through my head.  What???  Wait!!!!  But we never had lunch!!!!  Something’s not right in the world and I needed to sit down and have a drink.  Good-byes never sit well with me.  Well, fast forward to today.  I just got an email from her and she’s doing fine.  I think the fact that you can buy so much more house for your money in almost any other state has temporarily taken the sting out of moving for her.

Oddly, I know of the family that rented her house, but somehow it doesn’t matter.  I’m a little resentful that anyone would try to occupy that space.  I didn’t realize how much you assume there is warmth in the home of your friends.  When I drive by her home now it seems all wrong.  I finally understand what my friend meant when she said there’s a grey cloud over my home, because now I see a grey cloud over my friend’s house.  It’s no longer a home, but a house with an address, 25623 Trent Way.  I don’t assume it’s filled with girls giggling, amazing smells from her cooking, or perfectly eye-pleasing rooms filled with all the trinkets and treasures we’d purchased and created.

As much as I love change, it’s really difficult for me to accept.  If and when she comes back to LA for good, I’m going to make sure I hold on real tight and put that lunch date in ink! 

gym, blog, clean house, deliver pillows, make focaccia bread and bake cookies. 

Here’s what really happened:

I was successful at going to the gym, blogging and making focaccia bread…but then trouble set in.  I had decisions to make - BIG DECISIONS, like my youngest son wants to make cookies with me and my oldest son wants banana bread.  What to do, what to do???  It’s been too hot to make cookies after school, so I guess I’m going to make banana bread.  That means I can’t officially cross cookies off the list…or can I?????  Next, I did a cursory clean of the house; meaning I spent about 15 moving “stuff” from room to room.  Is that enough to cross this off the list….maybe just cross off clean but not house.   Finally, drop off fabric to Joyce for pillows.  Well, I moved the fabric into the car but never made it to her house.  I didn’t even as much as call her to tell her I was coming.  Hmmmm.  This one’s tough.  I really need to see this one to fruition as I’ve been sitting on this project for months.  I had a plan, then I changed the plan, then I changed back to the original plan only to realize I didn’t have enough material to recover the entire set of pillows on the outdoor furniture, then I went on vacation, then I misplaced the material…  Same story - different topic!  When does it end?  It’s still in my car!

I’ll try again tomorrow with a new list!  There’s always tomorrow!

Today’s Do-able To Do List

I don’t know about you but I’m having a hard time with the kids back at school and it’s not because I long for more time with my angels.  No, it’s because I can’t seem to fall back into my own productive routine.  Being the Queen of Self-Help books, I completely understand the A#1 rule - make a list.  The problem is that I can’t motivate myself to stick to the list.  Everyday I seem to keep myself busy doing stuff, unproductive stuff.  I’m beginning to understand why teachers don’t give homework right away.  I get it!  Mommies need a little time to ease back into their personal routines as well.  I’m not going to hold myself accountable until after Back To School Night either.  The problem is that Back To School Night was last Thursday!

While the boys were home during the summer, I would allow myself the excuse that I would complete a task or worry about something when they went back to school.  I constantly reminded myself that it was my job (as it is every summer) to provide them with “the best summer ever.”  I feel personal pressure that they have lots of exciting things to write about when they’re given the annual writing assignment of How I Spent My Summer Break.  I couldn’t bear to imagine that they would write something boring and mundane while all the other children sailed the seven seas, backpacked across Europe, climbed the highest mountain, etc.  (Clearly you can see that I have issues that I’m compensating for regarding my own unplanned, unorchestrated, un-thought-out childhood summers.)  However, all good mommy intentions aside, I’m beginning to think that was my excuse for not having a plan, sticking to a schedule, getting ANYTHING done during the entire summer. 

Well, they’ve been back to school and all I can seem to accomplish is going to the gym, showering and eating lunch.  And since I’m being honest, oftentimes I don’t shower.  My friends are the same way so it’s become acceptable to smell.  It’s almost as if I’m paralyzed by my unproductiveness!  I’m walking around my house pondering which project should be started ASAP.  I start a little something and before I know it, it’s time to pick up the boys.  I have memories of being so together last school year.  What happened?

I’ve decided that today will be the beginning of something different.  I’m going to catch up on my blog, actually finish cleaning the house, tackle the outdoor pillow project (a little late seeing as summer is almost over), make a wonderful dinner, and bake warm freshly baked chocolate chip cookies when the boys come home from school.  Do you think I can do it?  It’s just five items on my six item list.  I can still put the gym on my list.  I’m a Type A personality.  I’m goal oriented.  I love a challenge…To be continued…

I know you’re wondering what happened to me losing 5 pounds by attending Lynette’s Booty Camp class.  You’re probably just dying to know!  Well, the answer is a big fat NOTHING!  I got sick.  A serious summer cold that left me unable to recover for over a week.  It was the worst kind of cold…the kind where you don’t lose any weight!  Where is the silver lining in all of this?  I am going back to the gym tomorrow.  I’m dreading it.  Taking two weeks off is scary.

I’m thinking that tanning may be an easier option.  It’s more difficult to see cellulite through a golden bronze tan.  Every woman over 35 knows this!  Keep your fingers crossed for me over the next few weeks.  I need all the positive energy I can get!!!!

I’ll keep you posted!

For some reason, that song keeps running through my head tonight.  Here’s what I know for sure - I couldn’t live without my girlfriends, and I never want to try!  I love them all for so many different reasons.  They all bring something very special to my life.  But the ones I cherish the most are the ones who always bring me up, even when I don’t see the light.  These are the friends who know our deepest darkest feelings and secrets and love us anyway.  We all have these friends.  The friends that know us so well.  The ones that tell it like it is, but have a special way of delivering their heartfelt message that it doesn’t hurt our feelings.  That very message delivered by any other human on the face of this earth would put us on the defensive and turn us into UFC Champs.

 Today, I was bummed.  I won’t even go into the reason, but naturally, I picked up the phone and called a friend.  This is the friend that will answer her phone no matter what she’s doing just because she sees my name on her caller ID.  After I spill my story, she calmly assesses me, my words, my situation and gives me the cold hard facts.  Somehow she makes it all better.  And I’d do exactly the same for her.  While I realize we are girls and we will “discuss” the situation 10,000 more times because it’s never really over, I love her for all she is and all she gives to me.  While I really do love and cherish my husband, she’s the one that I want to give the other half of my Best Friend Broken Heart Necklace to. 

But it’s not just her that I love and need - it’s all my BFFs that fill my life with happiness.  I just hope that I do the same for them.  I just hope that they feel as loved and understood as I do.  They’re all so amazing and I aspire to give them everything they have ever given to me.