Unsorted thoughts

It’s not that I didn’t have anything to say.  On the contrary.  I had so much to say.  I had hundreds of words waiting to be strung together like Christmas lights that twinkle until you jiggle them and then go half dark because somewhere a bulb has burned out.

So, in the interest of just catching up before the lights go dark, let’s just do a random catch-all, shall we?

I fell down yesterday at Disneyland.  I was distractedly walking, one hand focusing on buttoning a center loosey-goosey button on my shirt that insisted all day on slipping out of its buttonhole when the flat ground sloped into a curb.  My foot caught it just right, twisted and I fell hard onto my right knee.  Just as quickly, I sprang up like some sort of middle-aged gymnastic completing a required skill.  Honestly, I didn’t know I could move that fast.  (Picture Sally O’Malley.)

I didn’t even look down at my knee and no one seemed to have noticed even though the park was bustling.  My wound burned, and I thought I must have ripped the knee of my pants.

I didn’t, though.  However, my knee is skinned.  I don’t think I’ve actually fallen and skinned my knee like that since I was a kid.  I am currently sporting an enormous bandage.

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My son graduated from high school a week ago.  After the ceremony–outdoors, warm blue skies, gentle cool breeze–we went to Red Lobster at his request and presented him with gifts and cards while he sat in his forest green graduation gown and flower lei.

He caught a cold a day or two before graduation.  Old habits die hard and I keep wanting to remind him to get some sleep since it’s a school-night.

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My mom was here for six weeks.  We had fun, even though the weather has been grayer than usual with our “May Gray” and “June Gloom.”

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I sent a message to someone I know who blogs regularly (every Sunday) to point out that she was long overdue for a blog post.  (So bossy.)  She said she has been too busy to blog but really, isn’t that the time you should blog the most?  So you don’t forget?  So you can explore your own thoughts as you sort through then and put them into words?

She pointed out that I was long overdue, too, and she was right.  So, here this is.  I tell myself that I will start blogging more regularly, just for my own benefit (since my “social media influence” is hilariously non-existent.)

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Tomorrow is my 7th-grader’s last day of school.  This is my baby, the child who should have been born first because she’s been bossing us all around since she was (literally) three months old.

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You know what is weird?  I keep coming across parenting articles with tips and ideas and instructions and all of that is so irrelevant now.  Whatever choices I made as a younger mom have been made and there’s no way to backtrack and start fresh.

Now I just stand around with my hands in my pockets and hope that everything turns out right.  We lit the fuse and it’s too late to re-light it lest it explodes in our hands and takes out an eye and blows off a thumb.

We have to trust that our efforts will catch fire and . . . well, enough of this tortured metaphor.  (Though I will probably revisit it at some point because I really do feel like I’m watching my firecrackers from a distance, wondering if they are duds or if they will explode at some point like they’re supposed to do.)

*

Today (well, technically yesterday) was my husband’s 55th birthday.  My daughter said, “Oh, he’s so old!” and I wanted to tell her that I couldn’t wait until she’s fifty-five so I can tease her about being old and then she can realize the error of her ways and understand that fifty-five is really not so very old except that I realized that when she’s fifty-five I will be (statistically) (most-likely) dead.  So.  That was a sobering thought.

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My husband and I went away for two nights to Palm Springs on a retreat.  My mom stayed with the kids, but I’m not sure who was watching who, really.  Lola the Dog moped around the whole time I was gone, barely leaving the staircase landing outside my bedroom door.

I think everyone with a teenager should get a dog.  The teenager might not be happy to see you (they are so “tired” all the time from the exhausting life they lead which consists of sleeping, eating, spending your money and checking their social media while watching Netflix and who can blame them for being “literally” too tired to come downstairs to get a glass of water when they are thirsty?) but the dog will leap for joy and maybe even nip your elbow in gratitude that you have returned home again where you belong.

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I have a few other things to discuss but, alas, I cannot discuss them.  They are like “unspoken prayer requests” that people would shout out during church prayer meetings when I was growing up.  I suppose if you really knew the person with the unspoken request, you could accurately guess, but if you did not, you might distractedly speculate instead of praying during the allotted time.  (Or maybe that was just me.)

If you know me, you might guess what I can’t commit to print.  Or you can use your imagination and just speculate.  Sometimes it’s more fun to speculate anyway, don’t you think?

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The squares on my calendar for this weekend are empty.  I can only hope they stay empty.  I have plans to lie around and read and sleep all weekend.

And with that scintillating report, I’m signing off and going to sleep.