Mountains of laundry, knock-knock jokes, and making memories AKA...being a parent

After working a long night shift in Salt Lake, and traveling home, the thought of crawling into my warm bed was more than thrilling.

I unlocked my door and was immediately bombarded by the smells of my home. After tripping over a few shirts strewn about the room, and a stray toy or two on the stairs, the smells began to intensify.

It smelt like sweat and dirty laundry.

Once at the top of the stairs I was reminded of the many things, including a mountain of laundry, that still needed to be done.

This never ending list only seems to grow with each passing hour.

As the list stretches, so do I. Almost thin.

The responsibilities of caring for three small children, alone, are not easy.

The loneliness and helplessness associated with it, I would not wish on anyone.

But those mornings, when I wake up with a little person by my side, or hear a knock-knock joke told without a punch line, or when I see the excitement of a first ever roller coaster ride, the loneliness, helplessness, ache and stress melt away, if even for a moment.

And all the hard work, the late hours, the tackling of laundry mountains become worth those little moments.

I only wish work and school didn't pull me away, so I could have those moments, all day, everyday.

I often feel like I'm cheating my children.

But I have also (finally) learned that it is more important for me to make those wonderful memories during the time I do get with them, instead of squandering it away pining for more.

No parent single or divorced, short or tall, fat or skinny, parents correctly all the time. It's a daunting task, to parent (with no manual, by the way). You're always second guessing, always regretting, always wishing for a second chance.

But, if at the end of the day, you love your children, and they know it (and this should go without saying...but you don't abuse them in any fashion) and you are constantly trying to be better, then you are a successful parent.

And for many of us, that's all we want.



-- Post From My iPhone

The lone wolf

Do you ever feel like a wild wolf, running through the chaos of a heavily wooded forest?

Branches seem to reach out and tug at your corse fur, anxious to slow your progression.

You glide through the mud, trying to escape.

Rocks seem to jut out and attack, as you pant breathlessly, running, running, running.

Always running.

But never with a pack.

Your path is not the packs, but because it is yours, you run it.

Alone.

You run.

Through the chaos.

Maybe someday your path will connect. Connect with a pack that runs just like you.

If you do, if you don't, you will always be running. Either way, it is who you are. A runner. In the chaos, from the chaos. Running.


-- Post From My iPhone

Firsts and lasts

This time of year has become a time of many firsts and many lasts....

I am teaching high school for the first time in my life, and just recently had my first day.

I finished the last day of my internship with the Deseret News.

And three days later I started my first day of my new internship.

Today was the first day of my last year of college.

Which also means, this past weekend was my last summer vacation of my college years.

I bought my first car all on my own.


And so many more....

Each last, seems to be the opening of a new first. And I can't wait to see where all my lasts take me, what all my first will teach me.




-- Post From My iPhone

I'm not a super model....

....but I am beautiful.

And no, I wouldn't classify my body as perfect....

....but it's mine.

So, I'm heading to the pool, wearing just my swimsuit.

No shorts covering the stretch marks on my legs, or my embarrassing tan line.

No t-shirt or tank to cover my imperfect cleavage.

Nope, nothing but the swimsuit, worn as it was intended.

I'm tired of hiding behind layers.

And don't worry, I'm not about to go streaking or anything.

....but I am becoming comfortable with me.

Comfortable enough to rock a blue and pink polka dotted tankini.

Oh yeah! Sunshine, here I come!






--Post From My iPhone

Unavailable

I don't always make the best choices in the men I choose to date.

Maybe I have been afraid of finding something really great (which comes with the even greater fear of losing it), so I've chosen the ones with impossible odds, it seemed safer.

I would choose the ones who were ultimately unavailable in some sense or another, or worse, I'd choose the ones who would never want me. (Which would, in the end, make them unavailable.)

When things would end, because they always would, I could always say that it was because they just didn't want me. (While completely true, it provided me with a scapegoat, I didn't have to admit my failures and poor choices.)

Now, just because they didn't want me or were unavailable, doesn't mean they weren't good guys. Sure, some were real class A douche bags, but, most were actually decent fellas. But, again, not available.

So, here's the crazy idea, what if I choose to be with someone who is available, someone who wants me, someone who sees me.

The possibilities are so great! We could be so great!

It's a real leap for me.

I'll be honest, the idea scares the hell out of me. (As I mentioned before, the fear of losing something sooo great is very scary.)

But, at the same time, the fear of never experiencing something so great is even scarier.

So, I'm standing at the door of this plane, and I'm jumping. And I'm counting on my chute to open.

And I can't wait to experience the thrill of falling!

-- Post From My iPhone

Sentimental

I think there are times when we all get a little sentimental.

It just happens.

When it does, we can soak it in, embrace it, love it...Or, we can shun it, spurn it, ignore it.

I usually do the latter. I think it freaks me out, because of all the feelings that come with it.

But today...I felt it coming on, and I took it in. I let it sit with me for the day. And you know what, I survived, not only that, but I really enjoyed the day.

And in a way, I feel like I've been able to connect my past with my present.

Which made me realize all the lovely things from my past can easily be woven into my current life, which is filled with the things I love.

Today I introduced dilly bars after swimming to my three loves. And what a smashing hit!





-- Post From My iPhone

Speaking of labels...what's your number?

Now, as I'm not one interested in labeling people, (as I mentioned in my previous post), one thing that has always intrigued me is a person's "number."

You hear people say, "oh she's a seven!" or "Mmm he's a nine, yowza!" or even "ugh, he's like a four, yikes!"

I've always been interested in how this number has been calculated.

For some it's purely based on looks, and scores seem to fall on the extreme ends of the stick. At first glance I think people are either very attractive or not so much.

But if you factor in personality, character, quirkiness, unique qualities, sense of humor and even how long you've known them, scores will often fall more in the middle ground.

And lower scores can even jump a few points.

What I wonder is, how important is this score? This number?

Can a 4 be with a 9?

Would a 9 even give a 4 a second glance?

I also wonder how everyone rates themselves. Do we downplay our strengths and positive traits? Or do we inflate our number, hoping to increase our chances of landing a perfect 10? (By the way, I don't think perfect 10's exist.)

I've always wondered what my number would be....

....what's yours?


-- Post From My iPhone