Fighting with Elephants

There is a word that GG uses to describe Belle, and it is pretty close to perfect- she calls her “complicated”.

I prefer to tell it like it is- Belle is dramatic.

Let me provide an insight into the world that is my youngest daughter.

After spending a few nights over Grammy and Papa’s, the girls came home tired.  No doubt there was some ice cream soup involved and other antics that kept them up late at night, but that is how it should be.  However, as bedtime approachs, despite her pleading of “But I’m not tired!” (as her eyes are all red from lack of sleep) I stand firm and insist that she get into bed. 

As we snuggle under the covers, Belle asks for a Princess Belle story (you know, where you need to be creative on the spot and make up a captivating magical tale involving said daughter and all of her at-the-moment favorite stuffed animal friends.  Yes, I secretly love it.)  In these stories, there is one character that is always included as Belle’s trusty, loyal companion, and that is Ellie.

Ellie is a Hufalump from Winnie the Pooh, which was Belle’s prize souvenir from our first trip to Disney World.  After stepping off the ride that took us through the adventures in the Hundred Acre Woods,  you, of course, step right into the gift shop.  Disney is the only place on this earth where if one of my children asks for something I am pretty much going to make it happen.  You know, because… it’s Disney. So, the small purple elephant came home with us that day and Ellie and Belle have been BFFs ever since.

So, there we were, the three of us, gearing up for a Princess Belle story when all of the sudden…

Belle punches Ellie.

I am not talking a playful tap, people.  It was a fist tightened right arm slugging punch.

WTF?

I gasp and ask Belle “Why would you ever hit Ellie?  Is that the way we treat people?”  At any moment I feel like social services will be knocking on the door “Ma’am, I hear your daughter has been punching elephants.  Is that true? Would you please step outside….” What would possess her to do that? In some crazy questioning that follows I ask her if someone has hit her? (no) Is it something you saw on a show (no. Mental note- cut screen time even more.) Then why would you do that?  (I don’t knooooooooow!)

So she is crying, it’s already 20 minutes past her bed time, but I can tell this is all just stemming from sheer exhaustion. So she says that she needs a few minutes alone with Ellie, and I comply, which works out great so I can go and put GG to bed.  A few minutes later I hear Belle outside her room, crying like she just lost her best friend.  Oh, the irony.

I say a final goodnight to GG, and go into the hall.  Belle is sitting on the floor all curled up with big crocodile tears streaming down her face.  The conversation goes something like this:

“What happened, Belle?”

“I told Ellie that I was sorry.”

“And?”

“He told me apology not accepted!”

Really?!?!?!

So, now it’s way past bedtime, and I told her that she needs to get into bed regardless of if Ellie is talking to her or not.  But here in lays the problem- Belle can’t sleep without Ellie.  I even tried Hippy (the hippo) and Big Duckie (yes, a big duck… wow- what creative names we have here!) but alas, only Ellie will do.  So, in my Ellie voice, Ellie tells Belle that he doesn’t understand why she would hit him, but that he knows it won’t ever happen again and accepts the apology.  Kate looks up and says, “You know, the time that Ellie and I weren’t friends, I feel that he is going to hold it against me.”  Yeah, the time you weren’t friends lasted all of 15 minutes, and didn’t you just hear the elephant say it was all good? 

So she snuggles in tight under the covers, Ellie tucked into her chest and head resting between his big floppy ears, just as it has been for countless nights before.  I kiss them both goodnight, give Ellie one last scratch behind his ear (he likes that) and Belle smiles.  I turn out the light and close the door.

10 minutes later I am cleaning up the kitchen and Belle turns the corner, Ellie in hand.

“Ellie said he would like some peanuts.  And I was thinking that maybe I could have some fishy crackers, too please?”

See?  An elephant can’t stay mad forever.

Yep, Still Got It

One week later and I think I am still coming off the girlfriend high that my time with J provided.

It was great, just as we both knew it would be.

Whenever we get together, there are elements of myself that I get to revisit.  Elements that God only knows I could not keep up with all the time, but good to reconnect with; stop by for a visit and say, “Yeah, I remember you...”

Two friends getting ready together, laughing, music in the background as we help each other decide what to wear and declare unequivocally “your hair/ makeup/ outfit looks amazing”.  Leaving to go out at 9:00 instead of thinking "Whew! The kids are in bed, almost time to call it a night myself."  Blasting great songs while driving with the windows down and singing at the top of our lungs. Staying up until 4 am- and not because someone under the age of 10 was throwing up or having nightmares, but because we were having so much fun we lost track of time.

But during the time she was here, there was an added element that I didn’t count on.  It was the fact that she was staying at my house.  I was showing her the city that I now call home, and I knew some places to go- cool, edgy, places.  Places where the popular kids go.  It hit me a few times of how far I have come in the past 3 months- 3 months!- and it really filled me with a sense of pride.

But the true heart of the matter is that it reminded me that there are just those times in life when you need to be young again, regardless of what age you really are.  Time to stop being responsible- just for a weekend- and live without a plan.  Without carrying fruit snacks or extra napkins in your purse- just in case. Time to notice and appreciate how your calves look in a pair of platform pumps.  Time to learn that you can still make heads turn.  Time to remind you that you can fill your friend’s soul just as they do yours. 

Time to prove to no one other than yourself that through it all, you still got it.

Making a List, Checking it Twice

There is no doubt about it- I am a list maker.

I make lists for everything- personal to do, work to do, home improvement projects, songs I want to download, stores I need to make returns at, stores I want to visit and linger at for hours if I ever had that kind of time… even a running Christmas list, because without fail it will be the day after Thanksgiving and I will have no idea what to suggest as gift ideas for the girls.  And yes, at one point, there has even been a list of lists.  But there is one thing that I have wanted to capture that, while I have often talked about it, I have never taken the time to put pen to paper (or type into a word document) in order to make it “official”.

My Life List.

Now, some people might call it a bucket list.  I, for one, choose the term Life List.   I firmly believe that the things I have identified will help mold and create the type of life that I want to live.  You know, so when I look back one day I can say that I gave it my all, or in other words “Yeah, I pretty much rocked it.” 

Whatever you call it, why you do it, or the parameters you use to make it really doesn’t matter; there is no magic number (although 100 seems to come up a lot) and I have even seen the list divided into categories such as famous monuments to see, athletics to achieve, adventure activities, charities to participate in etc.  As it is with so many things in life, it’s whatever works for you that is important.

So  just in case you might want to get inspired, I came across some questions that might help get those “one day I want to” dreams captured:

• What is one thing you have always wanted to do but have not done yet?
• What would you do if you have unlimited time, money and resources?
• Any countries, places or locations you want to visit?
• What are your biggest goals and dreams?
• Anyone you want to see in person or meet?
• What experiences do you want to have / feel?
• Are there any special moments you want to witness?
• What activities or skills do you want to learn or try?
• What do you need to do to lead a life of great meaning?

While I found these questions after I had already started my list, I still find them useful.  After creating my list, I can tell that it will be fluid-  one where it’s ok if I change my mind and take something off, or add something new (again, it’s whatever works for you). For me, the biggest commitment that I can make is to identify 2 - 3 things a year that I want to accomplish.  This is why it’s important to have big and small things identified, because, as we all know, it’s a lot of the little stuff that create some of the greatest moments in our lives.

So you might be asking… with all this talk, what do I have on my list?  To date I have 73 items identified.  Some of which include:

·         Ride a mechanical bull

·         Experience Oktoberfest in Germany (officially going next year!)

·         See the sun rise over the Grand Canyon

·         Attend the Opening Ceremonies of the Olympics

·         Run a 5k

·         Drop a $100 bill into a street performer’s hat 

·         Dine at a chef’s table

·         Own a pair of Louboutin shoes

·         Go hiking in New Zealand

·         See a final Stanley Cup Playoff Game

·         Have a real Guinness in an Irish Pub

·         Be a Parrot Head at a Jimmy Buffett concert

And that’s only 12!

So, the final thing you might be asking is what things have I identified that I am going to knock off the list this year? 

Well, you might know that I will run my first 5k in just a few weeks.  Privately, there have been a few other things that I have knocked off this year as well.  As for what that was, or what else I aim to accomplish this year, I am keeping that information to myself.  But whatever it is, have no doubt, I am going to make it happen.

Because, as you might guess, doing all the things on my life list is #73. 

Silver and Gold

Make new friends, but keep the old
One is silver and the other's gold

That is an old Girl Scout song that I remember singing in elementary school.  Little did I realize when I sang it at 9 years old how relevant it would still be at 37.

I have made a few comments about how making friends here since the move has proven a little challenging for me. It’s not that I am shy by any means, but it’s just that I don’t interact with others on a regular basis as others might normally do.  I don't go to an office.  I work, live, breathe, eat, and sleep in this house.  I am not a stay-at-home mom who can connect with other moms and take the kids to an adventure park for the day. The girls are not in any activities yet where I can stalk the cool parents.  And while I have met some great women through the neighborhood and other organizations I have joined, they are all still... new. And let's face it; there is just something so comforting about a true friend that really knows you.

And that is my friend J.

J and I have been friends since the fourth grade.  Not sure how we became friends exactly (it might have been something to do with our shared love of the Michael Jackson “Beat It” jacket) but I guess in the fourth grade everyone is still pretty much friends with each other. Regardless, she was the cool one and, having just transferred to the school, I was the new one. I remember that we took skiing lessons together that year.  On the day of our lesson we had to leave school 10 minutes early and J walked to my house and our parents took turns taking us to the ski hill for our lesson.  All I remember of that was J and I leaving10 minutes before everyone else got out of school and how special that made us feel, because let's face it, at 9 that made us the bomb-diggity.

J and I remained friends all through high school, and while we ran in different circles, those circles just seemed to intersect with each other and we remained close. When it was time to go away to college, J and I were accepted to the same school and we became roommates.  You quickly learn all you need to know about a person when the two of you live in a 12 x 12 cell block with adjoining bathroom.  Despite our different personalities we made it work, and really learned from each other. J taught me to let go a little, and she encouraged some of the crazy adventures we experienced that first year. It was also during that first year after some late night partying I taught her the right way to clean carpets.  These are both life lessons we both keep to this day.   

After college we continued to live very different lives- J moved to Chicago and lived in an incredibly cool apartment right by Wrigley field, walked to downtown bars, and figured out what she wanted to do when she grew up.  Let’s just say I took a more traditional route.  But through it all, we have always been there for each other.  Regardless if it is days or months in between our chats, it was always as if it is 2 am and we are sitting in the loft beds across from each other in our dorm room located in Valley II.  J was the one to hang signs all around our apartment for my 21^st birthday, and she was the very first person I called after M and I decided to end our marriage.  Crumbled up on the floor of my closet, she was my life line telling me everything that I needed to hear.

So one particularly dark night that first week after the girls had moved to Georgia, I called J in order to just feel connected to someone who knew me.  As good friends always do, she knew I was in a state. In what seemed like a blink of an eye we had plans for her to come and visit, and now that time is finally here.  Even though I may not been in such a sad state any more, having her here is going to be good for my soul.  I know I have said that it is important for me to put on my own oxygen mask, but J coming for the weekend is the equivalent to spending 3 days at an oxygen bar (bar also being an appropriate use of words).  With the girls away each night she is here (call out to my sister for keeping them), it will be late night laughter, references from 20 years ago, and many "remember when...", “look how far we’ve come” and “this is who I am now” type of conversations. 

And before we know it, the clock will say 2 am and we will be sitting outside on the patio, glass of wine in hand, all the while feeling we are sitting in those loft beds across from each other in our dorm room located in Valley II.  Maybe just a little older and wiser, but still those same girls who regardless of what life throws at them, will always be there for each other.

Have a Seat

I am in love, and sadly, it’s with an inadament object.      

While I have been in the house for three months now, it has remained fairly desolate.  Don’t get me wrong, I have done a lot of redecorating, but this mainly involved changing out hardware, replacing light fixtures, and other exciting things such as replacing ceiling fans and installing a new garbage disposal.  Other than that, the decor is basically a combination of what I brought with me (which was not much as I let M have the majority of house hold goods)  and what I purchased when I first moved to Georgia (which was basically all from IKEA, and I assembled myself).  

But all of that changed today.

I have been scouring thrift store web sites and Craig’s list for the start of some signature pieces that eventually I would use to swap out some older style and/or hand me downs that just really don’t say “me”.  I have been dreaming of a place called City Issue Atlanta, and checking design websites that I have come to know and love.  Then late last week I came across a listing for the perfect Danish Mid-Century Modern chair, and guess what?  It is now all mine!

I know that I will need to get the upholstery redone; however with any vintage piece you take that chance.  Regardless, I need to refrain from screaming out loud the insanely low price that I got it for because I may get arrested it was that much of a steal.  Let’s just say less than half what I found at other places.  Less. Than. Half. Yay me!

So I (very cautiously) went to the residence of the guy that was selling it, and wow- the entire house was done in the same style and simply amazing.  Not 1960’s egg chair and green shag carpet looking, but instead think Mad Men chic with a current twist.  Anyway, he and his partner were sadly selling this amazing home that you could just tell they had put so much love and effort into.  He was very thorough in showing me the chair, and lovingly turned it over to show the markings underneath.  I threw out an offer that was ridiculously low, and I knew he would never go for it, but he just said “ok”.  I almost felt bad. Almost. So, I took a shot and asked if there were any other pieces he was selling.  He showed me a much more modern arm chair, and I passed.  I went out to the car to get the cash, and when I came back in he said, “I do have another chair for sale, it is downstairs.”  All of my Lifetime Movie alarm sirens started going off saying, “don’t go down the basement!” but it was a split level and I could see what he was talking about right from the landing.  It was actually two chairs in another style that I have been stalking as well, and ideally I would like to have chairs such as these to sit on either side of the sideboard that I will own one day.  I checked them out- they were similar- not an exact match- which is cool because they were not matchy-matchy looking.  Again, I asked how much for the pair, and I nearly choked when he gave me the amount.  I immediately agree. I went back out to the car, so thankful that I still have the Expedition a little while longer so I can get my new treasures home, but when I went back inside the seller informed me that his wife wanted to keep one of them.  So, I asked him to knock a little more off the half price amount for just one, and he begrudgingly agreed.  I quickly, but gently, scooped up the chairs and hit the road before he had an opportunity to change his mind. 

Here is a picture of the second chair:

Again, as with the first, it needs a good upholstery  job in a more updated fabric,  but I have to tell you that it has got amazing lines and is beyond structurally gorgeous. 

So now my original Danish lounge chair has found a new home right in my bedroom. 

It is the perfect fit, like the corner was waiting all along to find its missing piece.  And it is so comfortable- perfect to relax and the ultimate reading chair.  I just need a good book and a nice glass of red to go with it… once I get those, I may never leave.

Love, Attachment or Both?

I had a conversation the other day with a very good friend that I have known for almost all of my life.  We don’t get together, or even talk for that matter, nearly as often as either one of us would like, but when we do it is easy and natural and honest- the way any good friendship that has stood the test of time would be.  She also happens to be one of my only friends that have experienced divorce.  It was great to talk to someone that has already been down this road and made her way to the other side. I so appreciated her opinion and view point, but most importantly her hindsight, in that you don’t realize how good it can be until you make that decision to choose a different life.  Inevitably through our conversation I think I said “I know you will understand what I mean when I say…” no less than three times.  And sure enough, she did.

While we talked about numerous things, the theme of relationships was clearly the main point of discussion.  Growing up my friend personally witnessed the entire courtship of M and I, so even though she knows the full story, we still discussed the details of “why” M and I ended up separating. Ironically, my friend and I both share a similar story of finding ourselves married to people that we realized we were no longer were compatible with, and even though we were in a legally committed relationship, we were alone. No partnership, not able to relate to one another, but instead two people living separate lives in the same house.  It was a key moment when both of us realized that this was what we were teaching our kids a marriage was, and hence a turning point that brought both of us to action.  She said it best by summarizing it as “Never an easy choice, but the right choice.”

So now the choice is made, and I know it’s the right one.  But I still find myself struggling with the question of “Why was it so hard for me to make the decision I knew was right in my head, but was so hard for me to get right in my heart?”   

I recently came across an interesting article that really hit at the heart of the matter (no pun intended) and maybe… possibly… will help me make sense of it all.

Apparently, it’s all about the combination of love and attachment in a relationship.  

Relationships are often governed by competing emotions, and it is understanding the difference between "being in love" and "attachment” that can help navigate through some of the difficulties we face when relationships don’t turn out to be what we expect.

The article defines love as a strong emotion that involves passion and desire – a need to be physically and emotionally intimate with another person.  Love is designed to bring people together, let them feel connected to one another in a way that is deep and meaningful.  These emotions connect people on a deeper level where they feel they understand the other person in such a way that no one else does, hence when love is lost we experience a true feeling of emptiness and loneliness; the person that filled us with such strong emotion and care is now gone.  

Attachment, on the other hand, is the sense of security, stability and comfort which people derive from their relationships.  Attachment is derived from patterns of behavior, sharing a history together, and knowing what to expect from your spouse.  Even if it is a negative response, we become conditioned to accept this behavior and in a way it almost becomes comforting to us because it meets our expectations.  Attachment bonds link people together even when love is missing.  It’s because we form these attachments to one another that, when relationships come to an end, people suffer a sense of loss to one's sense of security and stability. As such, the loss of an attachment partner can be a significant experience in your life as well.

Ironically, love and attachment do not necessarily go hand-in-hand. It is possible to have an attachment to someone even if there is no love.  But this article explained how when you have the combination of these two elements- love and attachment- it is, of course, the most powerful connection between two people, and hence the most devastating when it’s over. 

So basically, when you lose the one that you feel a strong passion and desire to be with, has a deep level of understanding of who you are as a person as well as a partner, and also provides comfort and stability in your life, it pretty much sucks. 

I will say that talking with my friend helped, and not just because she is a great listener, but because she is also a true inspiration.  She is now happily married to a great guy, and when you see them together it is obvious that she and her husband have both an amazing love and strong attachment for each other.  There was a long period in my life where I was not sure that type of relationship even existed.  Now, among other things, witnessing their relationship just proves that not only is it possible, it’s something worth fighting for.

Momma's Got A New Pair Of Shoes

So, just in case you felt the earth stop, I think I should explain. I signed up for a 5k.

I own what I am.  I am a gym girl, not a runner.  I have never understood the joy of running- I am that girl that would feign some sort of foreign illness during gym class when you had to run the mile just to get out of it.  I have often said that my own version of hell would be me, the devil and a treadmill.  So why, might you ask, am I doing this?

Because I can.

Ooooo- yes, I understand that I am testing the universe by saying that, by recklessly throwing out there that I can do this, but hey, I like to live on the edge.

So, I have been following a good training program, and asking (aka stalking) anyone that I know that has done this before for any words of wisdom or advice because I am basically winging it.  Which is fine until race day, and then I feel like a fish out of water, or at the very least a girl out of her element.  I have received some great feedback, but one that I keep hearing is that you have to get a good pair of shoes.

Shoes, you say?
Yeah, I think I can handle that.

So off I went to Big Peach Running Company- it was awesome!  Not even purchasing my best pair of pumps was the experience this detailed.  It started very general; how long have you been running, what distance, surface conditions you run on, etc. Then they got all technical and ran a whole biomechanics analysis including my gait and pronation. I didn't even know what those meant let alone I had one.  Then Josh (best sales associate ever!) walked me through what all of these characteristics meant, and what I should be looking for in a shoe to best meet my needs.  Then the fun started- trying on the shoes! I can't tell you how many pairs they brought out, but it was a shoe wonderland!  Brands I knew- Nike, Adidas, New Balance to some I have never heard of including Saucony and Mizuno.  Josh had me running in each pair- both inside and outside the store- comparing and contrasting each pair, then putting a different shoe on each foot, whittling it down until I finally went with these beauties:

I wore them for the first time yesterday, and wow what a difference!  They are so light you can barley tell you are actually wearing a shoe, but you can still tell what great support they provided.  My two mile run is tomorrow, and dare I say, I am really looking forward to it.  I am finding that (gasp!) I am enjoying my runs and seeing how I am building my distance and improving my time week over week. 

Apparently, up until now I have been doing it all wrong.

I just didn't have the right shoes.