Will I Always Feel This Way?

Empty by Ray LaMontagne
This has been on repeat in my head, and now on my iPod. I'm feeling a bit like the title of the song.

A Lesson in Genetics

It's official. I've turned into my parents. I'm not saying this is a bad thing. I've got seriously awesome parents. But it truly caught me off guard.

The other night, I found myself wandering around the house, turning of lights to unoccupied rooms, muttering under my breath about what a waste of electricity. Thanks mom. I've turned into a lights-off freak. And tonight, my kid tried to convince me that she needs a laptop (note: I do not believe that 10 year-olds need laptops. Ask me why in private and we can chat for hours). The discussion went back and forth, always with a kind but firm, "no" from my end. Finally, in an effort to underscore the expense of a laptop I said, "Yeah- lets go buy one tonight. But first we have to go home and pick money off the money tree." Oh. My. Gosh! Thanks dad. I knew that money tree line would come in handy one day...Before you know it, I'm going to be threatening to turn the car around. Yikes.

Come to think of it, my parents are amazing people- they raised 3 nutty kids and we all survived into adulthood with minimal emotional scarring/therapy (Mom- that's a joke- we're OK). If I had to pick 2 people to emulate, my parents are right up there. I guess if I look at this the right way, parenting is bringing out the best in me, genetically speaking, of course.

Card-Carrying Member

So, much to the dread of kids across the state, school in UT starts on August 23rd. Friends & family have helped out with my kid's wardrobe and school supplies. I've got her back on the official school bed time schedule (yes- my kid is one of those who needs a bedtime). And to top off our pre-school year fun: school enrollment night. I've never actually been to one before, so this was a first. Apparently you get to update all of your contact info, make an appointment to meet your kid's teacher and sign a seemingly endless pile of consent papers.

As I was "checking out" at the end of all of this hoopla, I was asked if I wanted to join the PTA, to which I quickly responded, "No thank you." Once the kind, soccer-mom looking woman explained the importance of joining the PTA, even if you couldn't actively participate (my issue, as a single mom), I was hooked. I handed over my $5 to show parental solidarity! It felt reverent, and almost patriotic in a very weird way. Then to my utter surprise and delight, soccer-mom handed me an official PTA membership card.

By the time I got back out to my car, I was practically giddy. I'm a member of the PTA. Hi, I'm a PTA member at my kid's school. Nice to meet you, I belong to my kid's PTA. For some bizarre reason, it was as if joining the Morningside Elementary PTA had transformed me from mere aunt status to officially awesome mom status, with a card to prove it. Go figure. Yeah- I work full time, don't get lunch breaks and will probably never be the mom who gets to herd kids on cool field trips or decorate for assemblies. But for that moment in time, I felt legit. Not an like the impostor mom faking her way through the day (which is how I generally feel).

So yeah...I'm a card-carrying member of the PTA. I'll bake you cupcakes, I just won't be able to take them to class. But I can show you my official membership card...

Dream A Little Dream(s)

The good news is, life is never dull. That bad news is, sometimes hectic life interferes with our souls. Being a single parent is a joy. Truly. Every day is an adventure- sometimes comedic, tragic, ironic...yet every day takes a bit of a toll. Going it on my own makes it a 24/7/365 deal. Luckily for all parties in my life, my little one has been able to travel to NJ to spend a couple of weeks with the Abuelos (Spanish for "grandparents") and catch up with her old friends. I miss my cutie every day, while she has confessed to "missing [me] about 10% of the time." But its been lovely to have some time to myself. This is my first vacation, if you will, since she arrived nearly a year and a half ago. During this time, I have indulged in a number of late nights, eating out, and movies (oh- how I missed you!). But I've noticed life has been a bit more quiet, and has surprised me with a little twist.

Mercy vs. Merits

Mercy versus merits. This is something I've been pondering for literally, years. Sometimes its more on the forefront of my brain, other times its on the proverbial back-burner. As rational humans (I can't account for the non-rational ones- there are just too many!) we tend to see the world in a cause and effect light. I speed, and therefore I get a speeding ticket. I consume more calories than my body burns, therefore I've got a bountiful booty. I am a good person, therefore I deserve good things.

It makes perfect sense. Its what we are taught as children: be good and you will go to heaven, study and you will get good grades, eat your veggies, it will put hair on your chest (channeling my dad for a second there)...you get the picture.

Tune My Heart

I've been stressing and fussing over this and that. Money is tight, the dog's leg is broken, my head hurts, there's nothing on TV (kidding about that last one), my kid is grumpy...

I could whine for 28 paragraphs. But while listening to my iPod today, this gem popped up. Regardless of your choice of denomination, this old hymn is a perfect elixir for all that ails. I am blessed beyond imagination. I breath, I can see, read, type, hear. I have legs to carry me places, a bed to sleep in and a roof over my head. I have a loving (if slightly stubborn) child. We live in a land relatively free of all too common diseases which plague other countries- malaria, TB, measles. AND- I have air conditioning in my car and my home. On with the big girl panties, and off with the complaining.

Come thou fount of every blessing! Listen, ponder, repeat. I am.

Pity Party: Table for 1

OK...so part of this story is funny, part of it pathetic. Let's get to the funny. I recently suffered a solid concussion. At work. In front of my entire team (and our maintenance man). To quote, "humiliations galore."

It all began with an innocent walk across the street to the local Maverick for a morning drink & breakfast treat. Having secured my diet coke, I proceeded out w/ goods in hand. Open just reaching the steep embankment down to the sidewalk, my flip-flopped foot hit a patch of mud and that was all she wrote. My feet went out from under me so quickly, there was no time to brace, my body slammed into the embankment, head hitting the concrete slab. Please note- I did not spill a DROP of my beverage. Oh yeah- I'm clumsy, but a pro!