H is for Hiccups and Hide-and-Seek

I've been on this be here/be now/be present quest lately. I mean, if sadness is a result of something that has already happened and anxiety comes from our worries about what might happen, it stands to reason that the balance lies in the present. Right? In theory, it seems easy enough - but in reality, it is a moment by moment challenge for me.

The other day, I ended up at the bookstore after receiving some sad news (not like 'my dog died' sad news, but neither that 'Kanye and Kim were having a fight' sad news. Somewhere in the middle sad news). And it would be there that I ended up with a handful of opportunities to test the theory. I ordered my double dirty chai (as if any other dirty would do) and sat down to read and forget, but I couldn't focus on the words in front of me. I was still busy trying to convince myself to let go of five minutes ago and not worry about five minutes from now. But in that exact moment, the here and now really was sad. I wasn't dwelling on the past or worrying about the future. I was sad NOW - in the present. And it seemed super counter intuitive to try to stay in it. What if being in the moment isn't always awesome? Why would I want to stay there? So I looked around aimlessly, allowing my mind to wander. I have spent countless hours in this place - walking around and judging books by their covers to quiet the noise. But this time, I just sat there - scanning the place. As I did, I saw a mysterious looking older gentleman a few tables away, staring out at nothing as much as he did his laptop. An Asian mother, nursing her baby while her toddler spoke quickly to her in a language I couldn't understand, but knew immediately to be the universal language of a toddler driving his mother batshit crazy. And a young couple staring into each others eyes and laughing at things that weren't even funny - because they still had to. And then it happened. On a shelf to my right, I saw an Erector Set and I heard myself laugh out loud. (If I have to explain why, we probably don't hang out very often). That part of me that finds joy in gems like this is always present. And in that moment, I was grateful to have the mind of an immature 8th grader, because it made the here and now pretty tolerable. Dare I say, awesome. Even if only for a moment.

It wasn't long before my gut reminded my heart who reminded my head that I was sad and I was snapped back to that feeling. I reached under my glasses to catch a tear that fell before I even knew it was coming. Very discreetly, I assumed. But within three seconds of doing so, I looked up to see the aforementioned mysterious looking older gentleman hunched over near my table, so as to make eye contact and quietly say "I'm sorry, I don't mean to interrupt you or to pry, but are you OK?" Surprised, I said, "Yes. Thank you, I am fine." As he responded with "OK, that's good, I just wanted to make sure," I realized that I instantly went from being sad to feeling comfort because of a complete stranger who, in his own "staring out at nothing," had noticed me doing the same. Maybe I should have been embarrassed, but I wasn't. Our "nows" just happened to cross. And it changed things… for a moment. After sitting there for a second more, I looked back over at the Erector Set, smiled again, and realized it was time to go. But before I left, as the kind stranger went back to the counter for a coffee refill, I stopped by his table and dropped a note on his keyboard that read:

And then I walked out - with a calm that wasn't there when I walked in.

When I started writing this entry, Quincy came to me, upset that she had the hiccups. And, as I tried comforting her, I found myself smiling at the unintended metaphor. Nobody really likes having the hiccups. Sometimes they are just a little annoying, but sometimes they make your "tummy feel really yucky and bouncy." She didn't have them a moment ago, but the good news was, she probably wouldn't have them much longer - because these too shall pass.

So, the take-aways are this:
There is always an Erector Set around the corner. People are inherently kind. It's almost impossible to leave a bookstore not feeling better than when you went in. And hiccups don't last forever. I've also learned that the times it means the most to hold on to a moment are the times I spend them with my children. Because, as the mother of two adult boys, I understand all too well how fleeting those moments really are. So, if you'll excuse me, I have a hiccup-free four year old yelling "I'm done hiding and I'm not behind the couch" - from behind the couch - that I need to find.

G is for Google

The following (all of it) is a ridiculously accurate depiction of the discussions having taken place in my head or my life over the last few days. 

• That voice is SO familiar, but I can’t figure out who it is?
• Where can I rent a carpet shampooer at midnight on a Sunday in Eagle?
• Can I actually make a meal with a tomato, peanut butter, shredded cheese and pickles?
• Is he really saying “scaramouche" and what does that even mean?

Google that shit!

What does it mean if my toddler has fluorescent….  
I don’t even have to finish the question before Google finishes it for me with ….blue poop.  And, that it isn’t weird enough that Google totally knew that's what I was going to ask, apparently it knows because at least a million other people have toddlers with fluorescent blue poop. Which tells me I am not alone, but not much else. And, it turns out, I could have easily said burgundy poop and at least a thousand other people would have already asked that too. Which is just weird. (She didn’t, by the way, have burgundy poop)

I’ve been sick all week and, while I know what it is this time, it's not uncommon for me to turn to the interwebs to tell me there are all sorts of crazy things wrong with me. Based on my "research" over the years, I am not entirely sure how I am still alive, to be honest. In fact, when I googled What does it mean if I have hypothyroidism, a hernia, a brain tumor AND Phantosmia all at the same time?* the response was….. It means you are a miracle. 
Thanks Google.  I’ve often wondered. 
*Don't bother googling. That combo was completely fabricated…..just as the illnesses usually are. But we both know you're going to Google Phantosmia. As you should. 

Last night, my sister was all too excited to show us her new stupid human trick, as she had finally outsmarted the Rubik's Cube. After she finished, I asked if she had googled how to do it. Of course she had, and then she proceeded to tell me it was all just a series of algorithms and if you did this here and that there and licked your lips twice, with one eye closed and blah blah blah…… (I'll be honest, she lost me at "algorithms") The point is, thanks to Google, the Rubik's Cube that has had its hold on her for the better part of 30+  years was now nothing more than a cube of algorithms. Or something like that. And algorithms, it seems, ain't got nothing on my sister!


In my infinite boredom last night, I went ahead and took a survey (which consisted solely of typing my name) to determine my spirit animal. How Chris translates to Bear, I have no idea. But don't think for one minute that I didn't google what it meant to be a bear, just in case it meant I was awesome. What I learned was: In the kingdom of spirit animals, the bear is emblematic of grounding forces and strength. This animal has been worshiped throughout time as a powerful totem, inspiring those who need it the courage to stand up against adversity. As a spirit animal in touch with the earth and the cycles of nature, it is a powerful guide to support physical and emotional healing.
So yes, I am awesome. Go figure.


There is a video (lasting mere seconds) that had me laughing out loud for a good five straight days when I first saw it. And, since that is exactly what I needed last night, I pulled up the Kid in a Minion Costume Who Falls and was immediately reminded that "I'm OK". 
If you haven’t seen it….. you know what to do.  
Google that shit! 

BTDubs:

• Aisha Tyler, from The Talk, is the voice of Lana from Archer. Quite the paradox. And brilliant. 
• You can’t rent a carpet shampooer anywhere at midnight on a Sunday in Eagle. Which then led to googling How long is the average lifespan of a cat?
• While Google had no decent ideas for the combination of the aforementioned ingredients, I now know how to perfect the grilled cheese sandwich. And that peanut butter is a meal in itself. Tell me something I don't know, Google. 
• Yes, that IS what he is saying. And it means, in an abbreviated version, a buffoon or boastful clown. I've gone my whole life thinking it was a nonsense word, but would have been perfectly content to ignorantly sing along for the rest of my life. Because it's Freddie Mercury, people!                                   

If you had to google "Freddie Mercury", you are way younger than anyone I thought would ever be reading this blog. Also, you should probably be kind of mad at your parents. And/or your friends. Somebody. You should be mad at somebody. 

F is for F***ing Forgiveness

Today, I forgive myself for trying too hard and for not trying. For crying incessantly. For eating chips just because I wanted the salsa. For not eating ice cream when I wanted it and for gaining weight anyway. For not being where/who I thought I would be at 40. For making decisions that don't reflect who I am. For recording Vanderpump Rules and for not watching the news. For running slow or, God forbid, walking. For not playing softball in college or having a college fund set aside for my children. For not finishing what I start and not starting what I want to finish. For needing somebody else to validate me. For giving people the wrong impression and then obsessing over making sure they know it's wrong. For being weak or needing help or having a bad day. For not ironing on Sunday or putting away my clothes - ever. For wishing I didn't have my cat. For overcompensating and looking ridiculous. For not teaching or writing or painting or running or knitting or reading or doing sit-ups. For failing at marriage. Twice. For not nurturing my friendships or my relationships with my sisters and brother. For being selfish and self-righteous. For saying I'm grateful but not acting like I am. For knowing nothing about politics and everything about pop culture. For drunk texting to sober people. For playing the martyr or being the victim. For not walking away before I've made a fool of myself. For not forgiving my father sooner or answering more of my mother's texts. For wanting a boob job and a tummy tuck and for being flawed. For not having written a book yet. For settling. For not remembering when my brats got their first tooth or giving them enough attention. For not wearing sunscreen and having wrinkles. For not saving all of my concert tickets. For being really bad at picking guys. For not brushing my teeth before bed or flossing - ever. For latching on to things/people that are bad for me and distancing myself from the things/people that aren't. For hitting send before I spell check. For being lazy and jealous and angry and human. For still having my dead Christmas tree in the backyard. For spending money I don't have on things I don't need. For beating myself up. For taking three years to start writing again. And for knowing that for every one thing I wrote here, there were still ten that I didn't.

Today, I fucking forgive myself…..for all of it. And moving forward, I'll probably just start being perfect and awesome and stuff.