defining happiness...

I can't be the only one that doesn't love having days that upset my routine.  I mean, I just can't.  I thought this feeling was strictly tied to working a 9 - 5  job.  It's not. I've been under the weather the last few days and I am behind on what I consider my "job".  The goals and benchmarks that I set for myself around this silly little homestead in the burbs.  

I think most folks automatically assume that when you don't work outside the home all you do is sit around and eat bonbons all day reading books or watching the boob tube, as my dad used to call it. I gotta tell ya, I have been awake around 3 hours, I have yet to finish my first full cup of hot coffee, I've warmed it up about 5 times already.  Pretty sure I am going to give up and call it a lukewarm coffee kind of day.  I finally got my breakfast smoothie made and I am sitting quietly in the living room typing. We'll see how long that lasts. 

I guess I could make the conscious effort to just sit around, to assume that nothing is my responsibility.  I'm not made that way.  Just because I don't scurry out of the house to work at a job that doesn't bring meaning to my life, doesn't mean that I am not working hard every single day.  Even feeling under the weather I still managed to semi keep up.  A lot of things didn't get completed though. 

I admit when it slammed me a bit harder than it had yesterday evening, I almost cried at the thought of getting out of my comfy chair and making Hubs dinner.  I was seriously wanting to be in my bed far more than I wanted anything else in the world last night.  I had used all of the energy I had stored up, I was toast. I had done all of the things I wanted to do, I just didn't do all of the things I needed to do.  There is a difference. 

just a bit of the day's satisfaction...

I could have gone to bed, said fend for yourself.  That again isn't who I am.  Although I think I went to bed shortly after we had dinner.  I didn't clean up the kitchen, not even sure I put everything away that wouldn't spoil.  I keep looking at the kitchen this morning regretting that decision.  But my body said enough. And believe it or not sometimes I listen. 

Hubs had his early morning meeting today.  We were both enjoying sitting in the cool breeze that this morning was blessing us with.  I puttered in my garden, catching up on the pruning and harvesting.  Pulling weeds here and there, while we chatted for a few moments.  Stealing what we could from the full day ahead just for us.  That little hour flew past, before long he asked what time it was and we realized we had 30 minutes for him to get ready and be on his meeting.  How did that happen.  

The end result for me?  Mega rush time.  Made his smoothie, fed my ravenous pups (are they ever full?), gave them their flea, tick and heartworm meds (thank you Belle for being a doll, Beau... you're a brat!) and then rushed upstairs to do the ironing I'd been putting off (still not finished) so he had the clothes that fit to wear.  My game plan had me getting my nice hot shower and completing the ironing.  Neither of those happened as Hubs rushed down the stairs yelling to me to remember to turn off the sprinkler out front. 

That's about the time I remembered that I still had to make his lunch and snacks for the day, he's going straight from one meeting to another all day meeting, and I had less than an hour.  So... my game plan changed.  The meals got packed and I even managed to gather up the shirts he was giving to a friend and get them in a bag for delivery.

I will get my shower after he leaves, I'll finish the ironing and all the rest of the stuff I have been putting off in just a bit.  For now this woman in her late 50's is sitting here looking like she might be a bit nutty with her hair in pigtails (too short still for a true ponytail) has finally stopped for a moment.  She's enjoying her smoothie and lukewarm coffee and resting. Plotting for the rest of the day is more like it. 

I know a lot of folks that are not part of the work a day world any longer.  For a variety of reasons.  Retirement, cost of child care, loss of jobs, health, happiness... the list is quite endless.  And what I've discovered is that I don't know a single person that falls into that category of sitting around watching television and eating bonbons.  Our days might be less structured than when we punched a time clock, but all of us are busier than we ever where when we were working externally. 

It seems that we have all been programmed to accept that the only way to get ahead and make a life is to work outside of the home for someone else.  I definitely feel like the last two years have redefined that for many people.  I am wondering how many of the younger folks that have left the traditional work force are like me.  Is it that they don't want to work?  Or is it that they have discovered the true value of their time?  Are we as a society judging people on a preconceived and programmed notion that they are lazy and wasting their lives and time if they aren't working a traditional job, punching a time clock for someone else?

What I am observing from this side of the fence is quite different.  I see grandparents that exited the work force watching their grand kids.  The sounds of laughter and children are echoing through out subdivision, something that didn't happen before.  I see parents actively engaged with their kids, raising them, teaching them life skills.  I am seeing folks planting gardens, and starting up side hustles.  Everywhere I turn there is someone offering a service.  Maybe folks are simply stepping out of the constructs of life that we have been forced to accept.  Maybe they are choosing to be part of a different economy?

A different life that doesn't allow the government to easily take their chunk of everything.  We all know how I feel about taxes and how much all of the governments are taking out of your hard earned dollars. Maybe the folks that are choosing not to work at your favorite restaurant, resulting in them cutting hours, have discovered they can cook at home and people will pay them for it?  And when you add up gas costs, taxes, low wages (and yes I do believe that is subjective to everything else)... well... maybe it is more profitable.

Maybe they are working as a cash only handyman or landscaper? The local daycare can't find employees?  Why not?  Is it pay?  Working conditions?  Hours?  Or is it simply that the folks that used to do that have discovered they enjoy spending that time growing their own children?  Raising them to be good, independent humans?

There are a lot of things shifting in this world.  A lot of people that are waking up, taking a step back from the life they were conditioned to believe was the only way to be successful and realizing that they are super successful in their own ways outside of that. 

Am I frustrated to be behind in my own goals right now, yes, will it negatively impact my family no.  It is simply a personal goal.  We all set goals. Mine are just for me instead of someone setting them for me.  Ya know what I have discovered?  I work harder and more efficiently, because it is something that is important to me. How many folks at the grocery, mega mart or gas station are feeling that way.  

In fact, as more and more Mom and Pops are going out of business, those feelings and attitudes are only going to get worse.  The small business owner loves their job, it is their passion, the goals and mission in action are theirs.  They have a very vested interest in the success and/or failure of that business.  To them you are important. Maybe all those employees that are "missing" from the work force aren't really missing, they are simply choosing a different lifestyle, a different avenue for their skills and labor.  Maybe they are re-envisioning the life they want and need.  I know I am. 

Every now and again I start to feel I should venture back into the traditional work force. I start to doubt that my contributions are making a difference.  I let that doubt that was drilled into us since preschool - or maybe earlier, sneak back into my psyche.  

I'm guilty, I did it to my kids.  What do you want to be when you grow up?  I believe it was John Lennon that said no one ever asks if you want to be happy.  The quote is longer than that, but that is it in a nutshell.  

Mom, are you almost done?
We need attention!

I used to live that life of benchmarks, metrics, and set goals.  If I tried I could find all the "buzz words" that measured my daily performance and growth lost somewhere in my brain.  Guess what, that wasn't my daily performance or my daily growth, it was something assigned to me by someone else to get the results they needed to justify their own goals and benchmarks.  I never experienced the pure joy, the sense of pride and satisfaction that I do from walking into my cantry, or putting on socks that I made, or sitting in my garden that I am nurturing to life.  The sense of a job well done when I reflect on the humans I raised.  Or the pure love I receive from my sweet pups that I am raising to be amazing companions. Or seeing the calm that is now our lives when my sweet Hubs kicks back after a day and we simply enjoy our time together.  I have different ideals of success now, and all of them come back to that basic thought... am I happy. 

Letting Dad know I will finish
his dinner for him...

Yep, I am, I am happy.  Today, I feel behind... by tonight I will have remedied that.  I'm not really behind, it's simply the state of mind that I feel today.  Well, I've rambled enough, it's time to finish this lukewarm coffee and get started on the things that bring me so much joy and bliss.  It's amazing the powerful feelings that come from doing what makes you happy. 

the void...

The silence is deafening.

The feeling of not knowing what to do next... almost maddening.

It's the dreaded void.

That first bit of time after.   It doesn't matter what's it's after.  Simply "after".

Right now, it is the after of my sweet boy and his girl boarding their plan back west.  I will feel lost for a few hours at least.  I am anxiously awaiting the text message that tells me he's safely back at his home.  The flight went well and that they have started to unpack and put their Christmas treasures away in their home.

Sitting at the island in the kitchen shivering because it's only hit a balmy 13 degrees here in the Midwest.  I keep looking at the temperatures they will arrive back at... 75... and it will be warmer by the time they land.

There are remnants of our time together everywhere I look.  I'm hesitant to change any of it, it will make it real. I'm not ready for it to be real.  I like seeing the last bite of banana bread that he couldn't fit into his tummy and her Ramen bowl, the mess from cooking schnitzel for him once more before he headed home. 

The snowy deck looks like it's mocking me right now.  Teasing me, reminding me that my little boy (all grown up) had wanted a white Christmas and even though it hasn't happened in 7 years, we got it. 

I am not fond of this period of silence and unrest to my spirit that always happens in an after.

Even something as minor as a completed project leaves me restless.  So you can imagine how it feels when my youngest returns to his home so far away.  I always swear I will not cry and I always make sure to get a picture of he and I long before those ugly tears start to fall.  And fall they will.

I at least made it to the final hug before security check in today!

It's been a wonderful 10 days, and the quickest I can ever remember. We spent time getting to know his lady, she's delightful!  And we can definitely understand why he chose her!  We've played games, eaten amazing dinners together, gone on mini-adventures - hello Arkansas, visited the Botanical Garden Glow and went to see the latest Star Wars. We've laughed, talked, watched movies, you-tube and yawned.  Mostly, we just enjoyed each other's company.

Having grown up kids is so rewarding.  I got to savor time with each of my babies alone and with them together!  I added a new one to my family and enjoyed my morning chats over coffee and breakfast most days with her! One of the greatest Christmases of all time.  When you reach that place in life when the presence of the person is worth more than any gift under the tree, you have truly reached nirvana.

I cherished the hours spent gathered around this kitchen island, in our house we've long since known that the kitchen is the heartbeat of the home. 

I kind of checked out the past 10 days.  I've been quite sick, which for me is a rarity, maybe it was the Lord's way of slowing me down so that I could enjoy each moment. Whatever it was it worked. I've been absent from email, text and Facebook.  I will need to catch up soon, but not now.

The kids and I took a trip to Arkansas to see the family. The boy is rarely home and we hardly ever go visiting.  Hubs wasn't feeling well and chose to stay home with the boys. At first I was really sad, but it ended up being awesome.  For the first time in probably 30 years I had my mom and dad all to myself.  And we had time to visit, reconnect and simply enjoy each other's company.  I had the opportunity to visit with sisters and nieces and nephews and their children.  All slowly, no rushing.

Decorating the tree and putting up snowy village this year had such a sweetness to it.  Making banana bread and wrapping presents.  Cooking breakfast for my dad and chatting with mom while she wrapped.  Snuggling my pups and watching the boy love his cat.  Priceless!

My sweet Hubs and kiddo's bought me the most perfect gifts! 

Things that showed they truly know me and care.  Craft tote (I am over the moon!!!!), Harley sweater and not just one, but THREE German cookbooks!!  Be still my heart!  I don't know what to make first, until I feel better I will probably just day dream. 

Hubs didn't even go crazy this year, he did perfect! Although I know it killed him to not get me every gift on his list.  New trinkets to wear, stuff to cook with (yep it's that kitchen thing...Love!) and a coffee mug that makes sure I know he loves me! Each item thoughtful and appreciated.

I know I often refer to my son as my boy, that he will always be, just like his sister will always be my girl. It was wonderful to enjoy them both as the grown man and woman that they have become!  I am so proud of them both! 

My boy, he's a kind, considerate, smart, handsome, caring, warm and loving gentleman!  The kind his lady deserves.  He's still got that impish smile and his eyes still sparkle, but he is definitely a man to be proud of! 

My girl...beautiful, generous, nurturing, witty and full of love.  She's an amazing mother, raising incredible loving and compassionate children! 

I feel like I won the lottery with those two!

Well the boy has an hour more to fly and I think I'd better check on Hubs.  I am fairly certain he is napping. 

And then I need to move past the void,,,

accomplished!!!

What an incredible rush!

I know it might sound silly, but I love to challenge myself, often in the strangest ways. Got home a bit earlier than usual tonight, so after walking the boys we decided to fix the fridge.  Thank you Amazon Prime for rushing it to the door!  Last night was too hectic to even consider it.

Hubs is trying to fight a cold and I wasn't too worried about it, the cork was working just fine. I was more worried about making soup for dinner.  Today has been just way too cold and gloomy, the kind of day that needs a piping hot bowl of rich creamy potato soup.

But... Hubs was willing to hold the flash light and screws as I disassembled everything. And possibly a bit anxious to get it done, removing the cork each time was proving a bit challenging when getting a glass of ice.

Note to selves, a full fridge and freezer are a bit harder to move than when it was first installed but hey safety first, had to unplug that bad boy.  I have worked on a few things without unplugging them, feeling like superwoman... let's just say that does not often end well...

I'd watched the video, I'm pretty clever with things like that, so... I mean it was already broken, worst case scenario, we'd have to spend the extra dollars for an educated repair person.

Thirty minutes later, we were sliding it back in place fully functional.

So yeah, I am feeling very accomplished.

It's those little victories.

I thought today was simply going to be filled in a longing for Germany, as it is a perfect German day.  Heavy clouds, threatening rain, or snow flurries if the temperature would just drop a bit.  The trees are becoming more and more barren as each day goes by.  And it seemed that almost everyone took a holiday after the holiday. I was also struggling with the let down that comes after completing a project - as I'd finally finished and delivered one of the quilts.

And frankly I was still a bit put out with Starbucks - it is November 1, Halloween candy still litters streets, and the coffee I purchased (because I'd forgotten mine on the way out the door) was served to me in a CHRISTMAS cup!?!?

The gloom this morning had me out of sorts.  I was homesick.  I was also feeling a touch under the weather.  Hubs even bought me beautiful orange roses (my favorites) to cheer me (they did).  Yet I was still feeling a tad down...

Now I'm sitting in my kitchen savoring the smell of my potato soup as it simmers gently on the stove, simply enjoying my minor accomplishment.  And feeling a bit like I have just achieved something major!

but then I'm funny that way...

do unto others

My adopted "hometown" often surprises me.

There are times that it feels like a "big" small town.  Where everyone is kind and helpful, if a bit nosy.

Then there are the times that sadden and shock me.  Because when someone says they are from St. Louis, well that actual number is really quite small.  "St. Louis" encompasses so many small municipalities and townships that I am often dumbfounded by the sheer number of city limit signs you pass driving up highway 70 to the airport.

The local news screams about districts, areas and counties.  In the all too recent past this jumbled up group of individual towns that all get lumped together have even made the national and international news services.

As an outsider, I can tell you, it's a hard city to understand.  I have had to learn lessons that I never learned in my life.  I am not sure how well I have learned them now.

I digress..

I want to share a story with you.

There is a hockey round two game.  Meaning... first off "Let's GO BLUES", next... traversing the city to leave is going to be a nightmare! (I mean we have two sports that we are passionate about... Hockey and Baseball - both have the same outcome on traffic.)

Secondly, it's raining.  I've lived all over this crazy planet and I have never witnessed rain being a magic potion that eliminates the driving skill of thousands of people all at once.

The path I usually take is fairly quick it's a simple two 4 lane divided city street, a couple of lights and a choice to take 44 or 55.  Because in this city everyone knows you avoid highway 40 at all costs, especially during rush hour.

It was moving slow, as in a 10 minute drive out of town became a 35 minute drive to an even worse commute on the highway.  A disabled vehicle in the right lane was making it worse.

I wasn't close enough to help, but an elderly man, quite frail and fragile looking was trying to fix a flat, he'd evidently hit one of our infamous pot holes.  As I was debating on how I could possibly get over to help him, and how much help I was going to be.  I mean, I haven't changed a tire in about 30 years, at least I don't recall doing so, since my dad MADE me learn before I could have a license.

It was then that I noticed a big guy parked a bit ahead of him with his hazards flashing, rushing up to help. He was young, strong and looked like he could have bench pressed that car to get it out of the traffic lane. Watching him rush up to help, filled me with not only pride, but hope.

My heart soared even higher when I watched the young woman in the car with him, rush out, grasping her umbrella to hand them for shelter, she didn't stay under it, she walked further down the road to direct traffic away from them.  The night in shining armor and the wise old man who'd already slain his dragons.

Yep, I believe in fairy tales.  And I believe that even in a town such as this, that the pure and honest good in people can overcome so many things! This town is very racially divided, still.  This tears at my heart. It isn't something I always understand.

I tend to see people in two buckets and two buckets only.  Either you are a good person (flawed or not) or you are a bad person (someone that just doesn't care who you hurt with your actions or words).

I deliberately left the race of these wonderful people out of my story.  But in a town such as this can sometimes be, it was what made it the most poignant part of the story.  That young couple didn't think twice, that old man graciously accepted their help.  In a neighborhood that is questionable.  Where lives are often viewed as disposable, I watched love, compassion and concern.

Maybe, just maybe, there will come a day when we no longer see colors of skin.  When we see the goodness of the heart and soul. Maybe that shining moment will happen when hatred, fear, and all the other ugly things will face that kind of love and light.

Can you imagine it?  In a pouring cold rain, I watched the proof before my very eyes.

I hope that incredibly unselfish young man and his beautiful compassionate woman will continue to be just that.  Rescuing those that need their help, regardless of their personal discomfort, because it is the right thing to do.  And I hope that old man proved that wisdom comes with age and was gracious and thankful...

Yep... this city is full of surprises... and I am thankful for the one I witnessed.

It restored my faith...

ps... I'm not Paul Harvey, I'm not going to tell you "the rest of the story", because those silly details that the media focuses on... they don't change the story...

Counting blessings...

It's a late work night, so it's been a fruitful early day!

Sweet Potato Soup  is simmering softly on the stove. I have to admit this is a new favorite of Hubs and I. The smell of cinnamon and bay fills the kitchen.  A load of laundry is almost finished and I need to put the groceries away.

Hubs and I got our walk in first thing this morning, it was so damp and foggy, eerie.  I ran as much of it as I could, circling back to walk with him each time.  My Fit Bit and I are not speaking now, as it didn't even record my extra effort.  Oddly, even though I walked/ran further we both got the same mileage and pace... WHAT?  Oh well, I know what I did.

I'm debating on taking a gym bag and tackling some weights today.  Not sure.  I always take it with good intentions, and then end up without the time. I feel I probably will, it's not that much more to carry and if it is there, well I might make time during my dinner hour. I really don't feel like I will hit the treadmill any more, simply not enjoying it.  It will be my emergency back up for really gross days.

I had such an amazing day yesterday at work.  I was blessed to have conversations with several members that have either shared the journey of Europe or my current journey to health.  They filled me with passion and joy.  Friendships are harder to make as adults, these felt like baby steps in that direction.

After the later conversations I felt much stronger in my conviction that I want to become certified as a YDPP Coach.  The change it has made in my life is so powerful, I mean seriously I just typed about running, that I want to be able to share that.  To provide that amount of support and love to those people that are on their journey!  Not only did she fill my bucket emotionally, I almost cried when she told me that she had felt strongly drawn to visit our Y yesterday, that our conversation and lifted her spirits and given her hope. Wow!

Immediately after I was part of an interview process for another Y.  It wasn't the interview that inspired me. It was a question asked of my peers and I.  We were asked our "why" for doing what we do.  Powerful.  I felt my spirit and soul soar listening to them.  We are all passionate about making a difference in this crazy old world of ours.  We didn't talk about changing bodies.  We all talked about spirit, mind and finally bodies. Everything important!  We talked about the power of "yes" and supporting others.  About being there to support whatever journey they are on.

As I am chopping the veggies that will make Hubs and I lunch and dinner this morning, It dawned on me that I am so blessed.  That I am in a place in my life that is fulfilling, nourishing and encouraging!  I am married to my very best friend, God blessed me with my soul mate.  I have children and grand children that fill me with joy and pride.  I have friends old and new that complete me as a person, ones I cannot imagine living without, others that have drifted into my past - but helped shape me just the same.  I love my career!  I have pups and a kitty that bring me unconditional love and joy.

This journey that is my life... it's full of blessings!  Even when it's hectic, crazy, sad, frustrating, and just generally a downer... there are silver linings.

I'm glad I took a moment to count my blessings today, have you counted yours?

coming out of the fog...

Not only did we lose an hour of sleep, yep woke up at the usual time, but dang was it cold this morning. Hard to believe this beautiful fall day is any relation to this morning. 

Deep fog, to the point that you could not see the length of the headlights in front of you.  And so very cold. 39 is a bit cool.  Two sweatshirts, thicker sweat pants (way too big - but that is okay they kept me warm), and a set of gloves, Hubs and I set off to walk.  

We try to go to the river to walk on the weekends, it is a bit flatter, not so hard on the Hubs.  This morning it was downright surreal.  To the point that Hubs made the comment, I wonder if this is what the afterlife looks like.  I didn't disagree.  Moving just 20 feet away meant that you lost sight of the person you were walking with.  The trees and town made ghostly shadows and it was so wet!

Hubs injured his back at work a few weeks back.  And has struggled to walk each day.  We were up to an average of 4 miles a day.  Even topping out at 5 or 6 on the weekends.  Now he barely makes the 2 miles without slowing and being in pain.  So, how is a girl to get in her steps and exercise while still spending quality time with hubs?  Well, she starts putting some slow jogging into the routine.  

I am so stunned that for two days now I have been able to jog for a total of .5 or more of my three miles. I've never been a runner. Probably never will be.  I have horrible feet and we already know one of my knees feels like it should be 80. I also am fairly certain that I don't truly like jogging.  

But... I love that I am able to do it.  I am beyond pumped.  In January I could barely walk.  As I struggled through therapy and multiple draining and shots in my knee, I was sure that I was never even going to go for a nice long walk again without intense pain.  I was fairly positive I would never see my calf or ankle again. And that toes and not baby sausages were going to be the norm for the rest of my life on the left side.  I limped very painfully and just walking the boys was enough to require a hot Epsom salt bath if I wanted to make it through the day.  

By May when I went to see my son, I had reached a "fake it" point.  I could force it through the day, the swelling was still unbelievable and I jokingly referred to it as my "fat" leg.  I was always worried that it was a sign of some horrid health issue.  I suffered through it, smiling, pretending.  Sucking down anti-inflammatories and praying I could make it until July/August when I could have another shot.  I was completely depressed.

This morning as Hubs moved along at his steady pace, too slow for me to get a good work out where I am now, but fast enough for a brisk walk, I took off jogging again.  I'd run until I could no longer see him through the fog and then turn and head back, going each direction that way for a few times.  Until my legs felt week and my breathing became labored.  

This morning I realized it wasn't a fluke.  It wasn't an accident.  This morning I realized as I was drifting through the early morning fog, My hair drenched from the mist, my glasses fogged up from the cold air against my warm body, I realized that I have reached a turning point.  For the first time in my life, I have intentionally made a change, a difference in who I am and what I want to accomplish. 

One of my friends posted on Facebook about accomplishments.  That really resonated in my head and heart. Am I up to a full mile, oh hecky no!, but I am going a bit further each morning.  Today, my total running was .6 of a mile.  Yesterday it was .5.  Who knows if my legs can take it maybe tomorrow will be .7, or maybe I will slide back to .5.  I am definitely feeling the exertion today.  I am always brutally aware that I have FMS, that I will always struggle to keep it on an even keel.  

Today, running along the top of the levee, through the mist, with a mix of the theme from Rocky and Happy playing courtesy of the Hubs who always loves to make a sound track for life, I felt a bit like a super hero.  I felt invincible and strong.  It didn't bother me that I couldn't run solid for the entire length of either song.  It made me feel empowered that even when my legs and lungs couldn't take it I didn't stop.  I simply slowed down to a more reasonable pace. And my sweet Hubs cheered me on!  Even when his back wouldn't let him walk further, he followed me in the car to make sure nothing happened to me, cheering me on, talking to me on the phone.  

I am reaching for those stars... I am climbing the mountains before me.  Both real and in my mind.  

I was right, 51 has proven to be a powerful year for me!

love... pride...

The sun is sliding slowly past the houses.  I am sitting on my deck.  A train is running down the tracks, its a sound I rarely hear. It sounds loud and jarring against the silence of the evening.  Surrounded by my beautiful garden in the twilight glow.  It's a nice way to end the evening.

A cup of hot tea.  Hubby.  And our thoughts.

Hubs and I got to see our sweet grand daughter sing the National Anthem tonight at the Cardinals v. Cubs game.  It was one of the greatest moments.  I was in tears, watching my girl, with tears in her own eyes, watching her girl.  She looked so tiny way down there on the field.  Thank goodness for the mega-tron! She sparkled up there.

As they started, she looked tiny and unsure.  Her arms held tight at her side as the camera scanned past for the first sweep. By the next, her smile had broadened, her arms relaxed.  She had the grace of a seasoned performer.

 Our sweet girls!

We left early.  We're both tired, after working all day.  Our kids are probably still enjoying the game.  Or at least as much as you can enjoy a game that has an 8 - 1 score in the bottom of the 8th... yikes! The Cards aren't really rallying this time.

My heart soared with the music tonight.  The pride of our two generations of girls... An awesome mom and her amazing daughter...

clicking through...

As I sat in Hubs recliner last night, listening the rhythmic sound of my knitting needles gliding through the soft blue yarn, I wrote my blog in my head for about the twentieth time yesterday.  I knew I wasn't going to actually write, sometimes there is simply too much to manage to get it out of my head.  But with each rhythmic tap (they would have clicked if I were using metal, but I'm using my favorite wooden ones), my mind in the background going knit, purl, knit, purl, I could hear the words I wanted to write, but seemed incapable of.

Yesterday was my baby boy's 25th birthday.  I remember it like it was yesterday.  The call to my best friend telling her to head in, she was my coach, she lived 45 minutes in the opposite direction.  The decision to shower and get cleaned up before heading to the hospital 40 minutes away. We would end up meeting in the middle.  We had to go through crazy security, Operation Desert Storm would be starting in roughly 24 hours.  At one point they would make my best friends leave my side and go move her car further away as the fear of car bombs escalated. The downstairs neighbor came up and sat with my beautiful little blonde girl, who simply knew she was getting a baby brother, it was all she wanted and God was not going to not give her what she wanted.

One of my favorites... 

I had been praying for another baby for years.  It seemed like the heavens had other plans.  Something in my heart always knew that my little guy would be my last, that God was only going to bless me with two. Perfectly a girl and a boy.  My most cherished gifts.

That little man had not been in a hurry, he'd been due a full week before, and without a bit of intervention from the Doc on the 14th, he probably wouldn't have arrived when he did.  But ODS was coming and the options for a civilian in a military hospital were dwindling rapidly.

During the four anxious hours of labor, so excited to finally see his precious face, full of fear as I'd been very ill during my pregnancy and had taken way more medications than this anti-medication momma ever wants to take.  His heart stopped twice, was my precious boy going to be okay? He didn't waste a minute once the time had come and everyone in the room held their breath when he didn't breathe at first, it seemed like minutes, although it was probably just a second or two.  And then there was that beautiful scream, it was not a happy little camper at all!

Mom on the other hand... well my perfect world with my two wonderful children was complete.  I have cherished every minute of being a mom, the good, the bad, the perfect and the horrific moments.  They are my blessings from heaven, and I will always cherish them.

Boy Boy and Bear Bear - cherished childhood loves

The little guy and I were buds when he was growing up, now he is half way across this big old country.  He's not much into phones and rarely calls.  We mostly talk in chats online.  Unless he's home or I am there.  We spend hours talking and catching up.  Playing games and solving all the problems of the world.  My precocious little guy that could use words like plethora and bifurcate in proper sentences in the first grade, who questioned the existence of Saddam Hussein at the age of 8, has grown into an amazing young man. Handsome, kind, loving, smart, driven.  He wants you to believe he has this firm wall around him that he is a stoic academic.  And then you see the crack, the love in his eyes when he is with the ones that mean the most to him, his wicked sense of humor that is dry and sharp able to reduce an entire room into tears of laughter. His laughter when he is with his best friends and they are sharing time that is just theirs.

He is an interesting man, and I am so enjoying the journey of watching him grow. I am so proud to be his mom.  He's a private person, one of the reasons I don't often share about him. Just every now and then that joy and love that fills my heart sneaks out, it pleads to be shared.  I have a picture of him and I from every visit.  Those hugs are what gets me through the long stretches where I don't get to see or hear from him. He's living his life.  I gave him birth and I gave him wings.  I feel that I am blessed beyond words.

As my needles were tapping last night I was engrossed in many thoughts.

Not just about my sweet boy.

I was thinking how thankful I was that Hubs had given me the gift of a complete physical.  He had his final exam yesterday morning and it looks like it will be at least 5 to 10 years before he has to do it again.  I know he only did it for me.  Honestly the past two years have been a bit brutal and I wasn't sure that I could take going through all of that to lose him to something that could have been prevented if he'd have listened to the doctors.  So hanging at the hospital for a few hours yesterday morning was a small price to pay.

I was thinking about my three (now four days) of doctor ordered exile.  Wondering how I can't force myself to do something good for me, but when scared will listen to a doctors orders like they are the gospel.  The steroids and anti-inflammatory are making my tummy feel like it's being assaulted.  The combination of those with the elevation, rest, ice and heat are making my knee feel... better isn't quite the right word... different is probably a better choice.

I got a couple of calls that along with the minimization of the swelling put my mind at ease.  My knee is about half the size it was, and all the swelling is down in my calf, ankle and foot provided I keep them elevated most of the day.  

Doc called with "good" news.  Yep let's go with that glass half full thing that I am so good at.  There are no fractures in my knee or any surrounding bones.  That in my opinion is cause for celebration!  No blood clots either!  Again, lets celebrate!  The swelling and pain are also not a full joint effusion, translation... should NOT need to have anymore needles shoved under my knee cap, although a slight possibility remains that the Orthopedist might want to completely drain the swelling on Monday.

In my world, these were all things to celebrate and if dancing would not have been painful, that is how we would have done it.

Monday morning I will see the orthopedist.  I am only touch apprehensive.  Seems my knee might be semi-full of bone spurs and moderate osteoarthritis. Doc said they were more than a little surprise to see that the x-ray belonged to a 50 year old.  They were estimating someone significantly older.  So how does that happen?  I mean seriously, one knee wears out quicker than the rest of you?  Unreal.  She laid out a few options for me, some of them we have already tried extensively, some are new.  Due to the amount of continual swelling, something will have to be done.  Interestingly enough the sounds my knee makes without the swelling are rather humorous.  Rice Crispies anyone? I am able to walk easier, sort of, at least it bends now. Although the sudden stabbing pains are not fun.  She said I have quite a few bits of broken off bone and cartilage floating around in there causing chaos.  As it is hindering my health, my work, my life, my everything there will be some serious discussions on Monday.

That can wait until Monday.

No sunrise to be seen today

Today my needles will tap, gliding through this beautiful fabric I am creating.  I cannot wait to wear this sweater.  It's allowed me to dream of the next one I will make, although I am trying to clean up all my other projects before starting any new ones.  It's definitely a motivator. My newest yarn catalog has several yarns in there that would be absolutely fabulous in this pattern.

Color is not done justice here...

Well, my coffee is cold, it needs a refill.  The washer just chimed telling me it is time to swap it out.  And I need to fix a smoothie so that I can take my daily dose of poison to control this silly knee.

I am feeling more like me, I am finding the ability to focus and think again.  I like this...