Random musings of a tired mind, with 15 minutes till swim lessons

Standard

Motivation = progress

 

It’s 10:07 a.m., and I’ve vacuumed the second floor and finished the list of edits. And we still have 6 days (5, depending how you count it) till the election!

 

Of course, I’ve been pushing myself through not a lot of sleep. Julianna’s cutting another molar—her fourth tooth; still no sign of the upper incisors—which means she’s waking up a couple of times a night. Christian doesn’t hear them when they whimper or cry in the night. If he did, he’d go, but he doesn’t hear them. And by the time I get him awake enough to go deal with them, I’m so awake, I might as well just go do it myself. So I’m the night duty person.

 

Christian and I are both juggling multiple responsibilities and pressures these days. Sometimes better than others. He talks about missing childhood and high school. I generally argue with him. High school was fine; I have lots of good memories, but I don’t gloss over the experience. I was awkward, socially inept, and continually out of place. I opened my mouth and got myself in trouble; I was insecure, and didn’t make myself attractive to most people—of either sex. I had three good friends in high school. Of those three, I’m still friends with one—one who is very dear to me. But those were definitely NOT “the best days of my life.”

 

Christian’s high school experience was somewhat different. He was much more popular, much more involved, and I think his family was probably one of the most visible ones in the school—with six kids, all accomplished in sports and music, how could they not be? Christian’s dad likes to tell this story about how two girls fought over him in the hallway. But then, my father-in-law is given to exaggeration, so I never know how seriously to take that story. Christian doesn’t really talk about it. Regardless, his memories are more uniformly positive than mine. But it isn’t high school itself that he misses. It’s how easy life was—the sense of security, the lack of weighty responsibility.

 

I won’t admit to nostalgia for carefree days. My life keeps getting better and better. College was better than high school…by a long shot…though I never really fit into the party wild, late-night music crowd, either. Grad school was a weird, amorphous two years, but I have wonderful memories of St. Stephens, and Angeleita, and the stunning beauty of northern Iowa. And then I was married, and that was the best time of my life, until Alex came along. Life with kids is even better, despite my lack of patience, despite being driven crazy by the “who can make the loudest noise?” matches. There is a richness to life now that would be absent without them.

 

I’ve wandered pretty far afield from my original topic, but that’s what a tired mind does to you. And now my 15 minutes is up (and then some), so I need to quit and get the kids to swim lessons.

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