I am FINALLY coming out of the funk of all funks.  I’ve been funking so long, I’ve forgotten that I’m even IN a funk.  It started to feel normal to me.  I don’t like that version of normality.

My kids stepped off the bus today.  I haven’t seen them since Thursday afternoon.  They shrieked and squeezed me and told me how much they loved me; within an hour, they were back to fighting.  However, those initial hugs and the “Mommy, I missed you SO much” comments made it all worth it.  We opened their little gifts from Alabama and headed off to the mall so Lily could get her new earrings cleaned and switched out. 

My trip to ‘Bama helped out a bunch.  First, I went with a friend I’ve known FOREVER.  22 years is a long time to know someone.  Hailing from the same state reminds one of all the weird cultural quirks that are indigenous to your wacky homeland; hailing from the same tiny hometown is just hilarious.  A close friend was getting married; I tagged along because hey, who doesn’t want to spend a weekend in Alabama? Not THIS girl!

A couple of things I learned about Alabama and myself while away:

1.  Northern Alabama is pretty.  Hilly, green, and friendly. 
2.  People in Alabama drive even worse than people in Virginia.  Holy god, it’s amazing we are still alive.
3.  If attending an afternoon wedding in Alabama, do not wear these shoes.  It’s overkill. 

4.  Always ask the person you’re attending the wedding with, “Is this an afternoon or an evening wedding?”  Depending on the answer, adjust your shoe preference. 
5.  Alabama is really.  REALLY.  REALLLLLY conservative. 
6.  Rose and Allen were the bomb.  Their families were wonderful and welcoming and Rose made me cry twice, because she was so kind.  You can see her beautiful photographs here.   I wish she lived closer; I’d actually enjoy having her photograph me and the girls.  She’d make us all look amazing. 
7.  Clinking glasses to make the bride and groom kiss is apparently a very northern thing.  I found this out when everyone stared silently at us, wondering why we were hitting our knives on the wine glasses and making hooting sounds. 
8. Running 10 miles in the rain before a half day of sitting on a plane is generally a bad idea.
9.  Sometimes, people from your past can make the present that much better. 

Getting out of Richmond even for a few days helped me shake the fog off my psyche.  Truthfully, I needed a break from my home and the things in it.  I needed a break from thinking too much about things that aren’t good for me.  I needed to stop being indignant and hostile because frankly SOME PEOPLE ARE JUST SO DARN STUPID AND THEIR STUPIDITY AFFECTS OTHER PEOPLE DAMMIT.  Alabama and my friends helped erase the indignation and help me accept that yep, some people are stupid and really, at the end of the day, it’s me that’s stupid for letting them piss me off.  My friend is going through a wacky divorce process too, complete with some serious depression and sadness, so we’ve alternated being each other’s rocks.  There was a morning not too long ago where I didn’t think I could get out of bed.  I was right; I didn’t get out of bed til close to lunch, but with some conversation and texting I made it through.  Those simple reminders of “this too shall pass” and other trite phrases can sometimes be all I need to make it another 24 hours. 

I laugh sometimes about my “impulsivity”.  It was an impulsive decision to agree to go to Alabama.  But as many times as I regret my impulsivity, 75% of the time the most wonderful things happen when I stop overthinking everything and trust my gut.  Therapist Jennifer tells me my judgment is right on, as long as I’m actually listening to what it tells me.  In this case, my judgment WAS right on.  I went, I laughed, I remembered why people like me.  I remembered why I liked myself, and that was the best part of it all. 

Finally catching up on a week’s worth of photos.  Commentary coming.  Maybe tomorrow.

Nope.  I can’t sleep even though I am officially WIPED OUT. 

It’s been quite a week.  Last Saturday, I ran 8 miles, then headed out to Carter Mountain with Windsor and the girls.  We ate a ton of apples and picked a few too, drove with the top down, and in one memorable instance, experienced a stranger slapping me on the butt while telling me it was accidental.  It was Windsor’s idea to go up there and it’s beautiful if you live near Richmond and haven’t been.  I want to go back again since the end of October marks the ripening of the Pink Lady apples - the girls’ favorite apple of all time. 

Before Carter Mountain, I had my friend’s son Colby over for a sleep over.  The girls love Colby and he’s one of the coolest kids I’ve met (that I didn’t birth, of course).  They won 4,000 tickets at Chuck E. Cheese, ate an entire pizza, behaved and then watched a movie before Arden had a meltdown.  Poor thing - she was exhausted from a day of fighting over Colby’s attention.  I think it’s her first really big crush.  Unfortunately, I’m pretty sure that Colby’s “bringin’ on the heartache” or something Def Leppard-like. 

Today, I participated in the Run Like A Girl 8K event, held in West Creek.  Theresa’s brother-in-law runs the race and I was drafted to help.  I may not ever help again after downloading the pictures and realizing that Theresa had taken an entire series of pictures featuring my ass.  She was trying to show off the new RLAG running skirt patterns, but seriously Theresa - I was about to kill you when I downloaded the pics.  I’ve left one up in the series but against my better judgment.  Also, please note that I left the picture of Theresa and me together.  This is noteworthy because a skeleton would look like a fatty next to Theresa, so don’t judge.  Or as Nicole says, “Don’t Hate - Appreciate or Congratulate”.  Congratulate me on having the courage to stand next to an extremely well-dressed Theresa, AFTER I ran the nearly 5 miles. 

Speaking of, I had a great race this morning. I ran my 9 yesterday and wasn’t sure how it would feel to run again less than 24 hours later. Not only did running help stretch my aching body, but the weather was perfect and I actually ran about 45 seconds per mile faster than normal.  I finished right around 50 minutes and for me, I was jamming the entire way.  As much as the rest of my life is sucking so much it sounds like a Dyson, my running is the opposite of suck.  Once again, running saves me. 

It was a crazy weekend altogether.  I spent the majority of Saturday with Dan and Nicole, Trevor and Windsor.  We had an absolute blast at Kings Dominion - I had forgotten how much fun I can have getting thrown around without the kids.  Dan and I both almost blacked out on the Intimidator.  90 miles an hour is FAST.  After we met up with Stanley and Elizabeth for nachos, queso and very large margaritas, which made me very large sick.  Poor Dan almost ended up with me puking on him in my own car.  Thankfully some water and ibuprofen after a day of running and dehydration solved my problems. 

I miss the hell out of the two of them, but seeing them reminded me that a trip to Blacksburg is in my very near future. 

The house is not going to close today.  I am not surprised.  Now the banks are fighting with each other.  Over $6500. 

I am going away this weekend.  There will be sleep, a pool, and a hot stone massage, and a kayaking trip involved.  I have not relaxed like this in over 6 months.  It is time. 

Next week, I am going to the beach with the girls.  Two of my favorite twin sisters (the only ones I know, actually) invited me to the Outer Banks.  Between us, we will have 5 children.  It should be entertaining if nothing else.

That is all. 

A boss I had back in 2000 was fond of saying, “No good deed goes unpunished”.  I used to think he was cynical, negative, or just wrong.  Turns out he was right, about 80% of the time.  I’ll still keep doing what I do, because the 20% of good deeds being appreciated make the rest worth it.  Sort of like accepting heartbreak as a price tag for love, or the fine line between pleasure and intense pain. 

I own my role in the mistakes I’ve made.  I’m hopeful that one day, owning my role will turn into changing the way I approach things or people. 

A friend of mine has a mother who is fond of saying, in the most guilt-inducing way possible, “I give and I give and I give . . . ” and it’s probably followed by a long sigh.  I found myself feeling the same way on a number of levels.  If that’s truly the way I feel, then perhaps it’s time to stop giving so much, being so focused on the outside, and take care of the things I can actually care for.  Chances are, the people I am giving to don’t want what I am forcing down their throats.  An old relationship of mine taught me to look at the actions, not the words.  Actions, in my opinion, are the best indicator of what is really going on.  I get so passionate and caught up in what I think will help that I forget others may not want that kind of help, or be bowled over/silenced by my enthusiasm to “make it all better”.  It’s both a flaw and a strength for me.

A while back, Robey asked me if I was listening.  If I was hearing what was being said, even without words.  As usual, she was right.  I wasn’t listening. 

Simplicity is underrated.  A small house, friends who will stay with you and buy you ice cream, sending flowers to someone just because.  Slumber parties on school nights with two warm and snoring girls.  Farting labradors and long runs with just the sound of your feet and a nose full of pollen.  I’m happiest when I’m simple.  I need to remember that. 

One of my favorite clients is a life coach out in Minnesota.  She has that adorable accent I used to have - I start saying “How key-ooooot!” whenever I talk to her.  She sent me this quote after a marketing meeting today and it is awesome. 

There are no detours around obstacles. There isn’t a meaningful goal that can be achieved, without facing obstacles and hurdles. It’s an inevitable part of life’s road to success. The more you come to grips with this, the faster you’ll get where you want to go!  Instead of seeing difficulties as the end of your dreams, see them as part of the journey. View obstacles as challenges, which, once overcome, will bring you closer to your destination. Refuse to be stopped – keep focusing on where you want to go. When the going gets tough, remind yourself that snags build wisdom, perseverance and strength. With this outlook your frustrations will transform to motivations and success will come your way more quickly.
©Jane Powell – Meditations for Women

I’m printing that bad boy (or girl) out and putting it on my mirror.  And the bathroom scale. 

In happier news, after a truly crappy day on a multitude of levels, I FOUND A HOUSE.  I am really excited.  When you walk through the front door, you don’t need a Hot Tub Time Machine.  You’re in the 60’s, baby.  From the knotty pine cabinets in the tiny kitchen to the powder blue and white tiled “master” bathroom, this house screams “Carol Brady, Take Me Away!”  But I love it.  Hardwoods, sprawling brick rancher, screened porch (complete with neon green Astro-Turf for extra awesomeness!), a huge fenced yard with irises and day lilies blooming, a huge garage, a shed, and a DEN!  The den even has the requisite dark wood paneling on the walls (I’m promptly painting it gloss white).  This means Nikki can continue her nannying/work bitch/domestic slave loveliness, I have an office in which to work that is not in the master bedroom, and my inventory can be stored in the pull down huge-ass attic.  I can deal with an ugly kitchen.  If I get motivated, I’ve even been given the go-ahead to paint the kitchen cupboards white.

From 3600+ square feet full of granite, stainless steel, quartz and vessel sinks to an unrenovated house from the 60’s.  Change has never felt so good.  I am embracing the cheese pieces of the house and digging on the other things that I love, like sitting outside in the fall protected from mosquitoes and digging in the dirt with a bulb planter.  Letting my kids ride bikes in a street where very few cars drive.  Watching Thora run like a freak through the yard.  Parking my new car in a garage and vacuuming it out.  Lying in my bed at night with tiny lights on, reading a book.  For the first time in years, it will be my house - my responsibility - my space.  It’s horribly frightening but incredibly liberating.