Some Issues To Attend To


Sooo, remember that one time when I told you that I kept having a bunch of stuff go wrong but I didn’t care because I was just so happy to finally be doing my student teaching?

Well, I hit my limit on Sunday when Brent drove to the mountain with my car keys.

I had just finished my blog post and was just about to go grocery shopping when I realized that my key was gone. I was already a little on edge wondering how I was going to finish all of the stuff on my to-do list when the shit hit the fan.

Brent was an hour and a half away from us and wouldn’t be making his way home again until Tuesday morning… I freaked.

Penelope immediately picked up on my mood and freaked too. So during a nice calm Sunday morning two cry babies had at it in my living room where we were both in full on melt down mode.

Luckily, our friend who lives in the mountains was making his way down to Denver for the Bronco game and brought the key with him. He was in a hurry to get where he was going so I needed to find a ride to meet him so he wouldn’t have to go out of his way. The meeting time was in the middle of Penelope’s nap. This really sucked because I had a lot of school work that I needed to get done while she slept. That’s when my friend KJ came to the rescue.

She was originally supposed to give me a ride but she lives a block away from me and volunteered to take time out of her Sunday to get the key for me and just bring it to me so I could let Penelope sleep.

This isn’t the first time KJ has rescued me. We don’t have family near by so she has been called on in emergency matters more than once.

  • Like the time I had a migraine while Brent was at work and needed to go to the ER. KJ held my hair while I silent puked in an awkward plastic bag. (It’s true… I can puke without making a sound. It’s a gift.)
  • Or that one time when I was super pregnant and about to deliver Penelope and had to escape to her house for a while because I was afraid I might murder my husband. I had sent him to the store to buy me Gatorade because I was sick and dehydrated. He forgot the Gatorade and brought home beer instead.
  • There was also this other time she took me to the ER (again) when I got something stuck in my eye. It was an exfoliating bead from my exfoliating face wash. Turns out exfoliating your eyeball is a really bad idea.

But none of that is important. The point is KJ is a saint, always dealing with my shenanigans and bailing me out of stuff leaving me to wonder why she even wants to be my friend.

When KJ showed up on my doorstep not only was she holding my car key but she also brought me this bouquet of flowers to cheer me up. (She may or may not have heard my meltdown over the phone.)


It totally turned my day around. I got all of my school work done, I did a ton of laundry, I cuddled with my kids and I went grocery shopping during the Bronco game which meant I pretty much had the store to myself (awesome!). I just knew that my unlucky streak was over and that this week all of the kinks were going to be worked out. I was so ready for the week ahead.

When this morning rolled around I felt especially rested. That’s when I realized my alarm didn’t go off.

Apparently, I have some serious issues I need to attend to…

Fake It ’til You Make It

I don’t know what the deal is but Valentine’s Day really screwed me up. I didn’t really get back into gear until today and even then I kind of had to fake it.

I hadn’t worked out in five days and I could feel the crazy beginning to set in. The only cure would be a nice long run. It seemed warm enough when I stepped out back, so I bundled Penelope up and headed for the trail. She quickly decided that it was NOT warm enough and that a long run was NOT a good idea. It was all well and good for me because I felt like The Tin Man running low on oil. I just couldn’t find my stride.

The tin man

That just seems to be the theme of my life right now. I just can’t get into a productive groove. I’m never sitting, yet I feel like I haven’t accomplished anything. I think it is only fair that if you aren’t able to get anything done then there should be some relaxation involved, but sadly relaxation seems to be missing from the equation.

For some reason the grad class I’m taking right now is kicking my butt and the worst part is that I don’t even know why this is the case. I mean, I gave birth to Penelope in the middle of a session and was still able to come out with a 98. Why can’t I do that now? My house is always in some stage of chaos and the piles of laundry seem to multiply every time I turn my head. Nothing is panning out the way I would like for it to.

When I’m not doing school work, or wiping noses, or cooking, or dealing with pre-teen drama I write juvenile fiction. I call what I do “Coming of Age” fiction because the stories always take place during an awkward or uncomfortable stage in the character’s lives.

As I’ve been working on this blog I’ve often wondered if the juvenile angst of my characters was starting to bleed through and show up in my posts. Then I realized that the angst I write about is indeed a manifestation of my own.

That means I’m still that 13-year-old girl with the weird triangle boobs. (Note to 13-year-old self, that changes.)

In fact everything changes but the angst stays the same. The term “coming of age” could be used during any phase of your life. Nobody told me that I was going to have to deal with this crap forever!

When I was a preteen and had hit my first awkward stage I just couldn’t wait to be a grown up and have all of this self-doubt behind me. Then I blossomed and was doing great until the next awkward phase came and then the next… and then the next.

I always come through a “phase” and find a place where I feel like I’ve got it all figured out. During these times I always think to myself, “if only I could just stay right here in this moment when I’m awesome then I could be happy“. But that’s not really how it works. Life isn’t stagnant and in order to get to that awesome stuff you have to suck for a while.

I guess you could call it growth.

I read somewhere that your nose and your ears never stop growing. At the same time your inner monologue seems to suffer from some sort of arrested developement. As I wrestle with school and raising kids and cleaning the house I always find myself wondering what I’m doing wrong that I just can’t be better at it all.

The truth is I’m not doing anything wrong, in fact I’m doing it all right. It’s called life and I’m simply living it.

Since I’m not feeling all that awesome at the moment my plan of attack is to just fake it ’til I make it.

P.S. I finally got a nice long run in… and a shower to boot.