Friday, March 31, 2017

Plans & Peas

I'm trying to keep up with blogging daily.  Im finding that I wait until I'm laying in bed, in the dark, pondering whether there was anything that transpired during my day worth writing about.  In all life is pretty boring, if you eliminate all of the drama, right now.

I managed to get Rosie to the vet for "laser light therapy" on her incision today.  The girls who work there must wonder if I own a brush...or more than one outfit, because I always show up looking like I just rolled out of bed (I did) and I am always wearing the same sweatshirt.  I changed out of my Christmas pj pants, and put some jeans it could have been worse.  My hair is always a messy rats nest thrown in a pile on top of my head...and chap stick is the closet thing to make up on my face.  It's just not pretty.  But Rosie never complains. She just drools A LOT in the car, while she tries not to throw up, (she gets car sick) 😕 and pees on the floor when we get there because she sees other dogs and gets over-excited.  We both have our issues these days. 🙄

My biggest issue of late is a bout of endless headaches.  I think this attempt at spring is going to make my head explode.  I know many of my fellow headache sufferers have been experiencing the same misery.  JUST RAIN ALREADY!!!  And RAIN HARD!  Get it over with, and then warm up!  I think the grocery stores should just have a freezer full of bags of frozen peas at the store entrance when the barometric pressure is wreaking havoc with people's heads.  Peas, free for the taking, with a Velcro strap, to secure it to the back of your neck.  Is this too much to ask? 🤔

My headache, or the meds I had taken to try to rid myself of it must have messed with my cognitive function....because I got loopy during lessons today.  At one point, a student was telling me about some of his friends.  He said one of their names was Matthew.  I (very seriously) told him that I really liked that name, and that if I had ever had a son, I would have named him Matthew.  He looked at me like I was a complete moron (which clearly, I was at this moment) and said, " DO have a son, and you named him Sam."  It then occurred to me that yes, he was indeed correct...and I burst out laughing, because for those few moments, I apparently had no recollection of having children.  (As the experience of motherhood has obviously rendered me mentally incompetent.)

And so, as another week nears its end, I realize that I need to come up with a plan of action.  It is painfully clear that just hoping "this will be the week that......" isn't working.  I realize that I have been waiting for some things to happen....and for some things to be put into motion that I felt would motivate me to "move forward" with my life, and where I am at.  I'm figuring out that the only person I can rely on is myself.  That has been a harsh reality.  It's hard when you want to believe more than anything that you can trust in what other people tell you....but when their words and actions don't match, you have to face the truth.  Tomorrow is a new day....and Rosie and I are going to work on our "plan of action."  We girls need to stick together.  And if all else fails....we move on to plan B.
Ice Cream. 🍦

Wednesday, March 29, 2017


I woke up at 4am this morning.  Clearly, this was not gonna fly.  Let me rephrase this.  My persistent chihuahua woke me up at 4am this morning.  The little turd loves to guard the house from his post near the front door most of the night.  Then, he comes to my side of the bed, and does his little "I'm going to scratch incessantly on the side of the mattress until my mom wakes up and puts me in bed."
Getting him in bed is always an adventure in itself.  My bed is pretty high off the floor, so to reach a little dog, I have to throw half of my body off the bed, and hope I have my weight distributed equally.  It can be rather precarious, because once you add the weight of the dog to the mix, it throws the entire attempt at grace and balance right out the window. (And occasionally onto the floor.) 😳
Luckily, this has only occurred a couple times, and only once with a human witness.  The dogs don't seem to mind when I end up flailing on the floor.  Nor do they ever offer me any assistance.
Anyway...this began the day.  By the time I finally back asleep, the piercing sound of Mark's alarm clock (then snooze, then alarm, then snooze, then alarm.....) began.  This, of course, was followed by the assault of bright lights from the closet and bathroom, along with all of the noises to accompany a half asleep man trying to get ready for work.  Needless to say, I was wide awake. 🙄

I'm afraid my motivation to do anything productive is still eluding me.  So, I moved to the couch with Rosie, because she needed to recover from surgery, and I needed an excuse to be a pathetic bum.  We snuggled and shared a banana, and for a little while, all was right in the world.
Then, I decided I needed apple pie bars from Fayze's.  Not just needed....but might perish without them.  I think Sam (after being home this week on spring break, and witnessing what a disaster I have become) has come to the conclusion that I might need intervention, so he didn't flinch when I asked if he would drive to LaCrosse to get me my bars.  I called to make sure they had them.....and they did NOT.  After getting through that phone call without an embarrassing meltdown (don't think i wasn't on the verge) I pondered making some....for about two seconds. After realizing that I was not about to go through the work of getting ready, going to the grocery store, AND making the darn things, I thought I could send the kid out to buy an apple pie....but you know that it would be next to impossible to find one that didn't have canned apples in it.  I needed the REAL THING.  So, I had a raspberry toaster strudel, and tried really hard to not think about apples for the rest of the day.  😢🍎🍏

I had to play for confessions at church well as Stations of the Cross.  Poor Rosie did not want me to leave her, and kept hugging me at the door, trying to get me to stay.  If only I could use her as a legitimate reason to not show up at work.  But, apparently, the night could not proceed unless I was there to lead a bunch of antsy teenagers in the singing of "Jesus, remember me...when you come into your kingdom."  FIFTEEN TIMES.  Actually, 45 times, if you include the other two nights I have had to do it.  I'm pretty sure Jesus is going to remember ME. 😳  And I will be just fine if I never have to play that song again.  And I will now publicly confess that I am heartily sorry for having rolled my eyes 👀 after about refrain number 7 or 8....and every refrain after that.  I was feeling very angsty, and didn't have any junior mints along to calm me down.  And yes, I have the maturity level of a 14 year old.....sometimes.  But only when I have to do things I don't want to do. Like play the same song 15 times in a row.  🙄

In all honesty, today was an emotional roller coaster.  I will spare you the details, because it was depressing enough the first time around!  I'm so ready to hit reset, and start again tomorrow.  That is the beauty of a new day, don't you think?  It's always a chance to try again.  To be a little more compassionate.  To love a little deeper.  To reach out to someone who needs you.  To be the one who makes the lonely person feel loved, or be the friend to the one who gets overlooked.  It's amazing to me how the smallest gestures of kindness often have the biggest impact.  Maybe today is the day you will make a difference in someone's life. ❤️

Tuesday, March 28, 2017


Before I start, I just want to thank you for the outpouring of love and support I received after throwing yesterday's post out there for the world to see.  I'm still feeling incredibly anxious about making it public....and I'm sure I will continue to have second thoughts about doing so.  I have been very lucky so far, and have only been met by people who have been most gracious and caring.  I am sure that at some point, my good fortune will turn, and there will be people who will feel the need to take sides, or who will want to offer unsolicited advice that is potentially hurtful.  It is the nature of the beast.  I am prepared for it.  Our story is not simple, and there will always be those who enjoy a hot mess to sink their teeth into. 🤓 I am always good at providing a hot mess. 🙄
On to today.
I am currently freezing.  I'm debating whether to turn on the fireplace or hop in the tub.  I could turn the heat up, but that would be against my better judgement.  I like to keep the thermostat at a brisk 64 degrees in the winter.  That keeps the heating bill from getting too out of control. (Although I make up for it with all the gas I use for the damn fireplace. 🙄) I have chosen option number three: a blanket with a chihuahua heating pad.  It's a win win for both me and the dog. :)

This morning I had to take my sweet Rosie to the vet.  Most of you know who Rosie is by now....the new love of my beautiful golden-doodle. I laughed when I came back here to start writing again yesterday, because the cover photo that has been on my blog page for the past two years was one I found on Pinterest....of a golden doodle laying on a pillow.  I guess I had been dreaming of her way back then, because it looked exactly like Rosie.
It was past time to get my sweet girl spayed.  In fact, she wasn't going to be allowed to go to doggie daycare anymore until she had her "procedure."  I guess they frown upon dogs getting knocked up during playtime.  I suppose the paternity tests can get out of hand with that many options. 😳
She isn't a huge fan of riding in the car (seriously, I think she is my biological child.) so she started to cry on the way there.  I tried to reach back to her to comfort her, but she was too far away, so then I started to cry as well.  We were both a hot mess by the time we arrived.  Not to mention the fact that  we had to be there WAY before our normal "we are presentable to be seen in public" hour.  (We both still had bed head....sorry, but we girls don't get pretty before noon these days.)
In her regular Rosie style, she made the rounds, and gave everyone a hug once we got settled.  She even managed to sneak a kiss to the cute little pug we passed on the way in.  I think what I love most about her is how she always comes up to me, nose to nose, and looks into my eyes, so we can "talk" about things.  She does this when she is happy, or nervous, or excited, or sad.  Then we hug, and I usually get some kisses too.  I have never felt such a connection with a dog before....and she truly came into my life when I needed her the most. ❤️
So, now I anxious mama, to hear if her surgery went ok, and when I can pick her up.  The thought of anything bad happening to her scares me to death.  I think it would put me over the edge.

I worry a lot these days.  There are a lot more things to worry about now.  Sometimes, I feel like I am I can't move forward, because I don't even know where to begin.  Overwhelmed doesn't
even begin to cover it.  I never used to worry too much about things....always feeling confident that it would all just "work itself out."  It usually did....but I sure wish I had been smarter about planning for the future. I seemed to have this 50's mentality that I would always have a "husband to provide for
me" so now that I am facing it alone, it's terrifying.  Suddenly I will be moving from my lovely home into a van by the river (hopefully not....but I really don't have any idea where I will live) 😬  and trying to make up for having worked part time to be home with the kids.  OMG, why didn't I take the whole "you really need to save for retirement" more seriously?!!  And why didn't I pick a lucrative career?!
My friend Reese asked me what I did for a living a couple days ago.  (He is five.). I told him I teach piano lessons.  He shook his head, looked exasperated, and said "no, no, no....that is just TERRIBLE!  You really need to find a better job."  I almost fell off my chair laughing.  This was after he went through my wallet and counted up my cash.  $20.00.  A lot more than is usually in there.  He declared how much I had, and I said I was surprised and happy with that amount.  He shook his head again, gave me that "you really need to get your shit together, lady" look that only this kid can muster soooooo perfectly, and said "ummm, my mom and dad usually have a couple HUNDRED bucks."  CLEARLY, I need to spend more time with him, so he get help me get my act together!! 😂
As far as my lack of sufficient retirement funds, I figure, as long as I don't go blind, or lose any fingers, I can keep working at church until I'm 90, right? 🤔😉

By the way, this post has taken me about 12 hours to write, because I get a paragraph down, and have to go run somewhere, or teach a lesson, or whatever.  So, Rosie is now home.  Her surgery went well.
Wearing the giant cone on her head did not.  First, she was pissed, then so sad, then humiliated.
During the "sad" phase, I sat on the floor with her, my head inside her cone, petting her, and crying my eyes out, because she looked so miserable.  My poor little piano student walked in on me having my break-down....which then turned in the "humiliation" phase, as Rosie walked over to the corner by the door, pressed her cone against the wall, and just stood there, like a three year old refusing to come out of a time out and look at anyone.  I finally took the damn thing off her during lesson number two, when I just could stand it no longer.  Afterward, she proceeded to jump on my (white slip covered) couch and throw up all over it.  10 minutes later, she walked over to the brand new, cushy dog bed I bought her today, and threw up all over that.  She didn't want to miss anything, so she puked all over her old dog bed as well.  Luckily it was mostly water....but I'm ready for this day to end.
I can't wait to see what kind of excitement tomorrow holds. 😉

Monday, March 27, 2017

Starting Over

It's Monday.  Every Monday for the past 100 years I have promised myself I would start fresh.  THIS would be the Monday that I would jump out of bed early in the morning with renewed energy and excitement!  The Monday that I would start exercising again!  The Monday that I would clean the house from top to bottom!  The Monday that I would actually plan meals for the week AND go to the grocery store to buy the necessary ingredients too!!  It would be the Monday that I would do all of the "normal" things that "normal" people do every Monday.  I have finally come to the realization that I do not fit the description of "normal."  It is not something I am proud to admit.  I mean, clearly, I don't want to be "normal" as in "boring"....but I would enjoy being able to function like a regular human being most days.  Since this blog is where I tend to "come clean" and bare my soul, I will just tell it like it is.  My "normal" for a long time now has been "can I get from my bed to the couch, and maybe accomplish something before noon....or am I just too exhausted to even face the day?"  If  I have to be somewhere, I will make it happen, but usually with great effort.  I grew up with the mentality (and the constant harping of my parents!) that if you weren't doing anything, you were lazy.  So, of course, when I get into these horrible ruts, I feel like a big, worthless, lazy bum.  If only that were the case.  I'm pretty sure that if it were laziness I was dealing with, I would be able to shake it off, and move forward.  I think back to when I was working seven days a week, teaching at school full time, lessons at night, doing shows, holding down a church job, plus playing for every gig that came along....and that was when my kids were little!  Clearly, I am capable of working like a crazy person....I did it for years.  It's funny how life will give you a reality check when you don't see it coming.  And that is where I am now.
    So, here I am, on a Monday.  And it's a good day to start blogging again.  It has been a couple years since I have been here....and I always found this place to be quite therapeutic for me.  And so, I start again.  And I am also beginning a new chapter of life. It is definitely not where I expected to be at this point in my life.  My beautiful daughter is almost through her first year in college, and is thriving.  I couldn't be happier for her.  She is singing and performing, and doing what she loves.  My son is looking at colleges, as he finishes up his junior year of high school.  Also a wonderful musician, he plans to pursue his passion as well.  The nest will be empty very soon, and as much as we had looked forward to this time in our lives, our visions changed.  It's funny how things become clear as you age.  You really start to understand who you are, and what you want.  I have also become painfully aware of how short life is....and fully believe that to be truly happy and follow your heart is the only way to really live your life.  I have lost four dear friends over the past few months, as well as my grandmother.  I have also had a friend lose a sister, and another lose her daughter.  The invincibility we feel when we are young fades as the reality of life sets in.  I have always tried to do what was "right" or what was expected of me.  I tried to make the responsible decision, or choose the "safe"path. I would live my life for my kids and my family, and push my needs aside.  It's crazy how fast you can lose your own identity that way.  So, here I am, 45 years old, not a whole lot to show for myself except two pretty fantastic kids, two really cute dogs, and 21 years of marriage to a wonderful man.  A man who is an amazing dad, a hard worker, my dear friend, probably the kindest, most caring person I know, and the guy I will soon call my ex-husband.  Crazy, right?  I feel very lucky that I could potentially have the most amicable divorce in the history of the world, and that I feel nothing but love and wish nothing but the very best for Mark.  We just finally admitted that we are two completely different people, and that we want very different things in life.  He loves a low-key, quiet existence....I need the opposite.  Country Mouse/City Mouse.  It's great for a visit....but someone will eventually go crazy. (Me.) 😬  I suppose we are fortunate that our kids are almost grown, and both are smart, kind, well adjusted young adults with good heads on their shoulders.  It would be much more difficult if they were still little.  Some days are harder than others.  We have both gone through our own stages of grief, and I know there are many to come.  I consider it a very good day if I make it to bed at night without having cried at all.  For awhile, it was a miracle if I made it until noon without a full on melt down.  Thank God for dogs that love to snuggle their mama.  I don't know how Mark has been able to go to work every day, and put on his "game face".  I have at least had the luxury of the privacy of my home to do most of my melting down in.  My car has seen its fair share of it as well.  We have been working through the emotional turmoil for several months now....but will soon be embarking on the logistical nightmare that is divorce.  Luckily, we have no ill-will toward one another, nor do we have anything to fight over (he gets the comfy bed, I get the piano....the rest is just  "stuff.")  Tonight, he was carrying boxes downstairs, and I asked what he was up to.  He said he was starting to "pack up the CD's."  Cue the giant knot in my stomach.  This shit just got real. Tears began to fall, as they so easily do now.  It's unbelievable how easily I cry these days.  I used to have the most amazing ability to put up the proverbial "wall" when it came to my emotions.  I could watch kids sob at the funerals I would play for, and not bat an eye.  I was able to turn off that switch that connected my emotions to my tear ducts like nobody's business.  Now, if a stranger is kind to me at the grocery store, I start bawling.  Or if someone actually asks "are you ok?" And seems genuinely concerned....forget it.  I'm a sobbing mess for the next 10 minutes.  I actually asked my doctor for a Prozac prescription just to "numb me up" a bit.  She didn't go for it.  Don't worry....I will try again. 😜
So, there it is.  My big secret is out. At least now you will know why I am crying over the cantaloupe in the grocery store.  I am hoping that writing will prove to be good therapy as we fumble through this crazy time.  I'm so thankful for the support and love we have received from family and friends.  It's important to us that everyone knows that we are still, and will always be close friends, and we don't want anyone to feel awkward around us.  It is obviously very sad, and a difficult time, but there is no animosity between us.  All that matters to us is our kids, and their health and happiness.  And if you do run into me at the grocery store (or anywhere else) I could really use a big hug.   I'm sure Mark could as well. ❤️