What, fitness again?

Okay, I dusted off my "Dirty Dancing" dvd and shared a nostalgic evening with a finely muscled guy who reminded me of the late Patrick Swayze. I worked up a sweat and reminded myself that I'm not really that good a dancer. So, in essence, I kept my promise to start working out.

I thought about getting the Wii, until I spoke to my sister. She got the Wii fit and told me a few things that would ensure my burgeoning relationship with the Patrick wannabe. This game apparently weighs you, and if it doesn't like the pressure you're putting on the scale, it tells you. It also critiques your exercise prowess, and if you're struggling, it tells you that, too. If I wanted that kind of abuse, I'd go to a gym and let the trainer pistol whip me! Has anyone else tried this thing?

47 and Unaccomplished

I am 47 and unaccomplished


I didn’t necessarily look forward to this birthday, but I didn’t exactly run away from it either. I am 47 and unaccomplished.

I know I would not want to be 16 again. I had my first real boyfriend, who proclaimed his love for me on our first date and would have been pleased to marry me when I turned eighteen. The idea was totally foreign and the relationship ended quickly. For the rest of my high school career, I had no pressing desire for a steady boyfriend, but to be free of any domestic entanglement. I am 47 and unaccomplished.

I know I would not like to be 22 again. I had just graduated from college, with a faint desire to become a television reporter, because it was what everyone suggested. I could write. I was pretty. I could speak well and I was photogenic. I returned home to find I had a niece by my younger brother and his 16 year old girlfriend. The idea was totally foreign to me and I had no desire to be a mother. I had been a part time mother to my brothers and sister while I was growing up because both my parents worked. I am 47 and unaccomplished.

I know I would not like to be 29 again. I was married and had a child. I had a husband and a daughter whom I absolutely adored. But I also had a demon chasing me, which left me feeling unable to protect my own child, because I felt too duty bound to others. The work needed to rid myself of that demon took many months and travels to parts of the mind best left unexplored. I am 47 and unaccomplished.

I know I would not like to be 35 again. Family DNA caught up with me and every physical ailment which plagued my family began to plague me, no matter how much I exercised and no matter my diet. I had no right to complain because I was not dying, just inconvenienced. I am 47 and unaccomplished.

I would not like to be 40 again. I looked around at my life and at the lives of some of my friends. Financially, I was not where I wanted to be. Career-wise, I was not where I wanted to be. I wanted to make my living as a writer, and while I continued to work at it, no favor was forthcoming. I wondered what I was doing wrong. I am 47 and unaccomplished.

Yet….

I would like to be 10 again. It was the first time I remember the pretend play between my sister and myself. It was the time I could remember the doors of imagination opening wide in my heart and mind and it was the time I could conceive of a future where fantasy could be the workplace of my soul. I am 47 and unaccomplished.

I would like to be 12 again. It was the first time I learned creativity from my mother. Though of little means, I learned watching her how I could change my surroundings with paint, wallpaper and fabric. The four walls around me needn’t be a constant diet of beige and white. I learned that if I didn’t like where I was, I needed to make a change. I didn’t have to be uncomfortable. I am 47 and unaccomplished.

I would like to be 26 again. It was the time I walked away from the career many would kill for. I decided I didn’t like television news as much as I thought I would. I didn’t like covering murder, suicide and sewerage disruptions in a small town. I didn’t like living away from the love of my life, whom I thought I would never have. I knew I wanted to be at home with the children I thought I would never want. I missed home. I wasn’t cosmopolitan and I no longer cared if I set New York on fire. I am 47 and unaccomplished.

Yet…..

I would be 47 again. I am still married to a man who is so sentimental and wishy washy in a house full of women, that he can not eat if one of them is unhappy. For my birthday, I received flowers, a gift card from Victoria’s Secret and dinner from one of my favorite restaurants. I asked for sledge hammer, but that was okay.

I am a mother of three little women, who are being raised in an age where the world is really their oyster. If they want to run for president, that’s good. If they want to run a multi national company, that’s good. If they want to be the best snack mom at a suburban elementary school, well, that’s damn fine, too. I like everyday of every age after their births when I remade the decision to stay at home with my children because it was what I wanted. It was something I could give to them, something my mother could not afford to give to me.

We’re at a point in our lives where a mother and daughter can be friends. We don’t talk about sex and that suits me just fine, too. I haven’t quite forgiven her for my name, but that may come in time.

And though I am still not where I want to be financially, and have made very little for my writing efforts, I am a writer. Aside from the unintentioned dream of a husband and children, it is the one thing I’ve always wanted. It’s the one thing I have accomplished.

I am 47.

They had it coming.......

They knew! I warned them. "We will be taking down the Christmas decorations after the first of the year, probably Sunday." I gave everyone a task and was hoping to knock it out in a couple of hours. And of course, they acted like this was the first time they'd ever heard of the plan and we'd live with Santa staring us in the face for the next couple of months. Why is it that they love to have the Christmas stuff out but seem completely befuddled when it's time to put these things away?

It's not like I asked them to spend New Year's Day like my mother does, which is cleaning everything in the house (and I do mean everything) to within an inch of its life. My mother will be 70 years old in February, and if she can clean a whole house by herself, I think my young and physically fit family can give me two or three hours to put Santa back in his box.

Renovations continue......

I'm painting the tub tonight with one of those kits from Home Depot (about $40). So far, so good. The fumes are vicious and you do need one of those special ventilation masks for the job. You have to let the tub cure for 5 days before running water. With every step of this bathroom renovation, I feel a little more confident with what I can do (past painting and sewing). The key is to know when to hire a professional.

To get my youngest out of the house today, we went to the store to pick new accessories for the bathroom. The activity was totally lost on her, as she was more concerned with how to pull off a cartwheel in the very crowded aisles. You need a lot of patience to shop with this one, and perhaps a straightjacket. Just when you're ready to pull your hair out, she says something that completely charms the cashier, and once again you realize how lucky you are to have this child.

Project Number One: Sanctuary!!

I'm determined to finish my bathroom renovation before classes start. The work began in earnest in August, with my brothers providing a little of the muscle. The tiling is done, so now I have to paint the tub, paint the walls and paint the cabinet. I'd love to replace the vanity, but the one I'd like to have is over $500, and I just think it's better to feed the children.

Am I the only woman out there who appreciates the sanctuary of a pretty bathroom? When we moved into this house, it was a putrid Brady Bunch peach with outdated tiles and fixtures. I just couldn't get comfortable in that bathroom. And since I also don't have a bottomless pit for a bank account, everything has to be done by me (and any family member I can lure in with the promise of a free meal.)

Sanctuary is very important to neat freaks like myself. I long ago gave up on the idea of a completely neat home. If you want that kind of house, your only companion should be a finicky cat. Families are messy, and of course, that's part of their charm. So I confine my sanctuary to my bedroom and bath. Those are the places where I will have total control and make no apologies for my clearly undiagnosed OCD tendencies. When it's finished, I'll post some pics. I hope it inspires some to take a sledge hammer to ugly tile all over the country!

Post Christmas Reality

So the last present has been opened, you've gorged yourself on cakes, cookies and pies, and you've visited relatives you only see once a year. You don't go shopping on the 26th because you don't have any money left (and let's face it, you never do), so the day after Christmas is spent eating leftovers and cleaning up the living room. Until January second, you're in some kind of holiday limbo soon to be punctuated by the taking down of decorations.

That was last year. This year, I go back to work on the seventh and my second semester will begin the third week in January. I ordered and received all my books and I plan to get through at least the first chapter of each. This semester, I really will go over my notes every night and keep up with my reading. I will cut my work schedule to the bone so I can spend time with my family and complete my work with as little stress as possible. I'll also finish renovating my bathroom and make some new things to wear.

All those hopes and dreams go in the same knapsack as the new diet we all begin at the beginning of the year. Why do we all begin the year with a lot of unachievable goals? January starts off with such anticipation and by February we're on our way to five pounds of disappointment eating. I suggest we take this in small bites. For instance, instead of promising to lose twenty pounds this year, working on stepping up your exercise program in small increments and cutting out the majority of the junkfood. Pull out your calendar and actually schedule activities like working on a bathroom and making a new dress. It's not as intimidating if you have an actual plan as opposed to a project that's just out there hanging over your head with no start date in mind.

The new year shouldn't be simultaneously exciting and daunting. Take advantage of that new beginning, make some realistic plans and find a way to make your life a little better than it was in 2009.

Merry Christmas!!

My Christmas holiday unfolded just as I thought it would. Despite my best efforts and promises to keep it stress free, no such luck. I still had my family over for Christmas Eve, worked the rest of the night as a Christmas elf and then had my kidneys kicked in by the six year old who was too excited to go to bed and slept with me. Christmas morning arrives and I look like something the cat left in the alley. I recharged immediately at the looks of breathless anticipation on my kids' faces (or was it annoyance because I was the last to come downstairs?).

Gift opening was actually fun. The youngest child was excited with everything she opened and the older girls enjoyed the money in their stockings. This was the first year I'd ever asked for an appliance (a stainless steel toaster because I'm changing out the white plastic appliances for nicer ones). For my husband, who has arms like a gorilla, he loved the extra tall clothing I was able to find for him. Then we actually sat down and watched some holiday tv, the parade from Disneyworld, actually. And it was nice.

The holidays usually go by in a blur and we can never remember what happened or if we even enjoyed ourselves. Every year we promise it will be different, but I'm beginning to wonder if it can be when you have large families and limited opportunities to see each other, especially when people live out of town. It's crazy, but on some level we must be enjoying it. Otherwise, why do we continue to do this every year?

Merry Christmas!