I had wanted this to be a journal of what happens during this year, but so far I have wanted to forget a good deal of it. It seems as though I am daily dealing with issues with this rotten house and the limitations Mark's broken leg imposes on our lives. I don't much like myself or my attitude and haven't wanted to write long posts about my miserable self.
On the bright side, Matthew seems to be very happy here and is enjoying school greatly. Max likes it too.
Sunday, October 3, 2010
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
Photographs and Memories
Last week the woman who was key to my survival through junior high/high school sent me a birthday card. She enclosed an incredible gift: pictures from when we were girls. Some memories were clear, some were fuzzy, and some completely eluded me.
I like connecting the old to the new, the young to the old, and the past with the present. I think that's one reason I like being back in Tucson. The streets are familiar, the mountains have scarcely changed, but Tucson has also grown quite a bit and some parts are barely recognizable. So, what about me? Am I familiar -- scarcely changed -- barely recognizable?
Tomorrow I am getting my hair cut. Going to the same stylist who cut my hair 11 years ago. I'm betting he'll say I look exactly the same, but that won't be true. I look 11 years older, but am easily recognizable to anyone who's known me since high school. I wonder if I'm the same on the inside too? Couldn't I please, please be a wiser version of myself …
I like connecting the old to the new, the young to the old, and the past with the present. I think that's one reason I like being back in Tucson. The streets are familiar, the mountains have scarcely changed, but Tucson has also grown quite a bit and some parts are barely recognizable. So, what about me? Am I familiar -- scarcely changed -- barely recognizable?
Tomorrow I am getting my hair cut. Going to the same stylist who cut my hair 11 years ago. I'm betting he'll say I look exactly the same, but that won't be true. I look 11 years older, but am easily recognizable to anyone who's known me since high school. I wonder if I'm the same on the inside too? Couldn't I please, please be a wiser version of myself …
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
Getting tired of the scooter tour
Tomorrow we go back to Mark's orthopedist. I'm ready for the scooter tour to be over and am so hoping that the doctor will see bone growth and give Mark the okay to begin weight bearing. I pray that I will have the grace to accept no 'new' news.
Psalms 130:5 I wait for the LORD, my soul does wait, and in His word do I hope.
Monday, September 6, 2010
Old? friends
Tonight we had dinner with some dear friends. Our families spent a fair amount of time together when we lived in Tucson from 1994-1999. How is it that our children have gotten older but we seem exactly the same?
Friday, September 3, 2010
The wisdom of Katie Scarlett
Last night Gwen called Mark a little frantic about a class and how much work she had to do. Earlier in the afternoon when I'd talked to her, I'd told her that the syllabus showed assignments for the entire semester, not for the week and that she could do the work if she took it a class at a time. Mark calmly talked to Gwen about her assignments, college life in general, and closed with the advice to go to bed and think about things in the morning. I've felt a little overwhelmed myself this past week and tonight I am taking Mark's advice to heart. Sometimes the best thing to do is nothing. So tonight I'll go to bed knowing that "[t]omorrow I'll think of some way … after all, tomorrow is another day."
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
Sun Tran
Sun Tran is the name of Tucson's bus service. Today I thought I should be working for them. I drove Matthew to school, ran a couple of Matthew-related errands, and then went to my next stop. My route went north to an old (I mean high-school) friend's house. I took her to her doctor's office and then back to her house. I got her settled in and quickly got back in my bus to drive home (via the gas station, naturally) so I could -- yes, that's right -- DRIVE Mark to the University. Now I'm back at home (having picked up Matthew) with a few hours until I make my last pick up for the day.
It's quite a glamorous life I lead!
Lately I'd been appreciating the mild temps; running errands in 95º temps wasn't too bad. But I did notice when I drove home just now that the temp was up to 102º! Good thing the bus is air conditioned!
It's quite a glamorous life I lead!
Lately I'd been appreciating the mild temps; running errands in 95º temps wasn't too bad. But I did notice when I drove home just now that the temp was up to 102º! Good thing the bus is air conditioned!
Saturday, August 28, 2010
Non-philosophical musings
Despite being married to a philosopher, I rarely quote philosophers. But today I will because I think Jean-Paul Sartre's translated quote "Hell is other people" is missing the mark. I would have to say that hell is other people's stuff.
In 2007/08, Mark was a visiting professor at UNC-Chapel Hill. We found a furnished house to rent in a family/dog-friendly neighborhood. Yes, it was furnished so I did expect furniture and kitchenware. But there was also an abundance of left-behind books, CDs, and outgrown toys. I did have closet space and was able to unpack our things, but was aware that I was living with other people's stuff and that it was stuff they didn't want. When we went back to Athens that summer, I cleaned out our unwanted stuff and donated it.
Forward to this year. Mark is on sabbatical with The Freedom Institute (or something like that) at the University of Arizona. Once again we're renting a furnished house. But this house isn't merely furnished; it's stuffed to overflowing with things. Things like expired medication, five opened containers of Italian bread crumbs, countless opened boxes/packages of pasta and rice, 60+ pairs of shoes; I could go on and on. There isn't a drawer, corner, or closet that isn't packed completely. Where do I put the things we brought for this year? How can I unpack when there is barely room to get my boxes in the house? I also have to remember to keep a path clear so Mark can get through. And, naturally, the garage isn't any better.
So here's what I can say about the house: I like the location. I like the view of the Catalina Mountains from the front room. I like living with my husband and son. And, although I miss Gwen mightily, I'm glad she's not here to be packed into a place that in my mind is user-unfriendly.
Oh, and for my two followers who know me: I had to throw out many, many opened packages of Trader Joe's chocolate because I had no idea how old it was! Tragic!
In 2007/08, Mark was a visiting professor at UNC-Chapel Hill. We found a furnished house to rent in a family/dog-friendly neighborhood. Yes, it was furnished so I did expect furniture and kitchenware. But there was also an abundance of left-behind books, CDs, and outgrown toys. I did have closet space and was able to unpack our things, but was aware that I was living with other people's stuff and that it was stuff they didn't want. When we went back to Athens that summer, I cleaned out our unwanted stuff and donated it.
Forward to this year. Mark is on sabbatical with The Freedom Institute (or something like that) at the University of Arizona. Once again we're renting a furnished house. But this house isn't merely furnished; it's stuffed to overflowing with things. Things like expired medication, five opened containers of Italian bread crumbs, countless opened boxes/packages of pasta and rice, 60+ pairs of shoes; I could go on and on. There isn't a drawer, corner, or closet that isn't packed completely. Where do I put the things we brought for this year? How can I unpack when there is barely room to get my boxes in the house? I also have to remember to keep a path clear so Mark can get through. And, naturally, the garage isn't any better.
So here's what I can say about the house: I like the location. I like the view of the Catalina Mountains from the front room. I like living with my husband and son. And, although I miss Gwen mightily, I'm glad she's not here to be packed into a place that in my mind is user-unfriendly.
Oh, and for my two followers who know me: I had to throw out many, many opened packages of Trader Joe's chocolate because I had no idea how old it was! Tragic!
Friday, August 20, 2010
Goodbye to Athens
A week ago I was tired, overloaded with tasks to accomplish before leaving town and didn't want to see friends. After watching a marathon session of "America's Top Model" on Saturday and a great church service on Sunday, I was ready to rejoin the world.
This week I have had breakfast, lunch, and dinner with wonderful friends and know what I am leaving behind. Friends who have known me since Matthew was a toddler and Gwen was just a little girl, friends who helped in ways they might not even know when Mark had his accident, friends who have made my life so much richer. So tonight I feel the sadness of leaving these friends behind, but I also know that my friends will be here upon my return.
Tomorrow Gwen and I drive to Pennsylvania and on Sunday I will say goodbye. I am grateful to my friends in Athens who have helped nurture and care for Gwen.
This week I have had breakfast, lunch, and dinner with wonderful friends and know what I am leaving behind. Friends who have known me since Matthew was a toddler and Gwen was just a little girl, friends who helped in ways they might not even know when Mark had his accident, friends who have made my life so much richer. So tonight I feel the sadness of leaving these friends behind, but I also know that my friends will be here upon my return.
Tomorrow Gwen and I drive to Pennsylvania and on Sunday I will say goodbye. I am grateful to my friends in Athens who have helped nurture and care for Gwen.
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
The past few days/weeks have been chock full of goodbyes. I said goodbye to Mark and Matthew when they left for Tucson and then again when I left them in Tucson. I said goodbye to my extended family after vacation knowing that I won't see most of them for another year. I am sad to say goodbye to friends who I won't see for the next ten months and am trying to prepare myself for the goodbyes to come when I leave Gwen at college.
But tonight I was reminded that not all goodbyes are sad. After leaving Gwen's dance performance, I headed out to my car and saw a familiar vehicle. Someone drove by in the 1997 Honda Odyssey we sold in June. I easily recognized each dent and scrape and when I drove past it I saw the cracked windshield. That's when I remembered that not all goodbyes are sad.
But tonight I was reminded that not all goodbyes are sad. After leaving Gwen's dance performance, I headed out to my car and saw a familiar vehicle. Someone drove by in the 1997 Honda Odyssey we sold in June. I easily recognized each dent and scrape and when I drove past it I saw the cracked windshield. That's when I remembered that not all goodbyes are sad.
Friday, August 6, 2010
Blue Hawaii
It turns out that often my absence or lack of mothering is a good thing. I have spent almost no time with my children for the past week because they would rather be spending time with their cousins. I can shake off the guilt of the spring/summer and enjoy the beautiful scenery of Hawaii. And on the subject of scenic scenes, I adore watching my children happily hanging out with their cousins. I will be sorry to leave Hanalei, but I think they will be even sorrier. Aloha!
Friday, July 23, 2010
The Kids are Alright
Earlier this summer I worried that my kids would think of this as the summer they didn't have a mom.
April and May are always busy months. Mark was going to be travelling, we were having houseguests, every weekend was full. Gwen's senior recital, choir concert, prom and graduation were looming. Matthew had a swim meet, a campout, and a trip to North Carolina planned. Add both kids' birthdays to this and it was going to be a busy time.
And then Mark had an accident. And broke his leg. Badly. Life stood still for me while Mark was in the hospital. But the kids' activities went on. My priorities shifted. I didn't go back to the college course I had just started. I didn't cook dinner and hardly bought groceries. I don't know how Matthew finished school; we barely got any work done. I totally forgot about his German lessons the week of the accident and then forgot once more (for good measure?). Birthdays were a chore; something to get through.
I was exhausted mentally and physically. I think I still am. Every night I wonder if it's too early to go to bed starting around 7 p.m. I care more about my own bedtime than my kids' bedtimes. I don't feel very motherly.
But now I can see that the kids are all right and that the previous 13+ years of parenting meant more than the last few months. And I hope that when they look back on this time they will understand that I wasn't trying to ignore them but was devoted to the one thing I needed to spend my energy on -- their dad.
April and May are always busy months. Mark was going to be travelling, we were having houseguests, every weekend was full. Gwen's senior recital, choir concert, prom and graduation were looming. Matthew had a swim meet, a campout, and a trip to North Carolina planned. Add both kids' birthdays to this and it was going to be a busy time.
And then Mark had an accident. And broke his leg. Badly. Life stood still for me while Mark was in the hospital. But the kids' activities went on. My priorities shifted. I didn't go back to the college course I had just started. I didn't cook dinner and hardly bought groceries. I don't know how Matthew finished school; we barely got any work done. I totally forgot about his German lessons the week of the accident and then forgot once more (for good measure?). Birthdays were a chore; something to get through.
I was exhausted mentally and physically. I think I still am. Every night I wonder if it's too early to go to bed starting around 7 p.m. I care more about my own bedtime than my kids' bedtimes. I don't feel very motherly.
But now I can see that the kids are all right and that the previous 13+ years of parenting meant more than the last few months. And I hope that when they look back on this time they will understand that I wasn't trying to ignore them but was devoted to the one thing I needed to spend my energy on -- their dad.
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
It Happens Every Spring
I have been a homeschooling mom for the past 11 years. So for the past 10 years I have had the same thought every summer: Next year will be different; next year will be better. Next year I'll find the perfect books, design creative lessons, and be enthusiastic all year long. Next year my children will happily do research projects, book reports, and other creative projects. We'll finish these projects in October or November; we won't be rushing through them in May.
Think Charlie Brown, Lucy, and the football. Every fall Lucy tells Charlie Brown that she'll hold the ball for him and she convinces him to kick it. And what happens? She snatches the football away.
But this year it will be different. This year I will not be a homeschooling mom. My daughter heads off to college next month and my son will attend a charter school. Maybe this will be the year my children have enthusiastic teachers, creative lessons and the perfect books. Maybe this year Lucy will hold the football for Charlie Brown to kick.
Think Charlie Brown, Lucy, and the football. Every fall Lucy tells Charlie Brown that she'll hold the ball for him and she convinces him to kick it. And what happens? She snatches the football away.
But this year it will be different. This year I will not be a homeschooling mom. My daughter heads off to college next month and my son will attend a charter school. Maybe this will be the year my children have enthusiastic teachers, creative lessons and the perfect books. Maybe this year Lucy will hold the football for Charlie Brown to kick.
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