Gratefulness

I was at the kitchen sink, washing the fruit that I had just picked up at the grocery store when my husband came in and announced with tears in his eyes, that our daughter had been in a car accident.  “How bad?” I asked.  “Is anyone hurt?”  “Is she okay?”

I am grateful to report that she and her teammates are all okay.  My mini-van, sadly, is not.  But I’m grateful that she was driving my car and not hers.  She was driving volleyball carpool and was stopping for gas before the hour-long drive home.  The weather was clear and she was not distracted.  The other driver missed a stop sign.

I am grateful that a rescue squad just happened to be at the same gas station and they were able to check on the girls and direct traffic.   I am grateful that the other driver and her son were not injured.  I am grateful that one of the girls called 911 while our daughter called us.  I am grateful that the police officer that arrived on the scene was calm and kind.

I am grateful that the weather had cleared, the sky was blue and the roads were clear. My husband and I made it to the accident site safely.

I am grateful that my cell phone battery had enough charge for a text to the other parents and calls to my daughter, calls to the other girls, calls to the other parents and directions from Google Maps — my charger was in my car — and my battery was on its last legs.

I am grateful that there was a mini-mart attached to the gas station and the girls were able to get a hot chocolate while they waited for us to arrive.

I am grateful that the damage to the car, though substantial (the air bags deployed), was such that my husband was able to drive the car home without any problems.

I am grateful that the other parents met their daughters at the designated drop off points and gave my daughter a great big hug.

I am grateful that she is home safe.

Who Knew an Organized Make-Up Drawer Would Provide Such Joy?

This morning, at roughly 6:23 am, I organized my make-up drawer.  And when I had placed the last tube of lipstick in the organizer with the other tubes of lipstick, all facing in the same direction, all with caps and none with smears of lipstick on the outside casing, I smiled into the mirror and quietly clapped my hands together.  Smiling into my clapping reflection in the mirror I could not help thinking that today is going to be a great day!  Why? Because my make-up is all organized!  How on earth could something so trivial leave me so confident, happy and ready to face the world?  Simple.  The make-up drawer and frankly everything else in the master bathroom has been in disarray for the past seven years.   And today the bathroom remodel is complete enough that I can put my make-up back in the drawer.

My husband and I bought this crazy “fixer upper” seven years ago.  My original plan was to remodel the master bathroom almost immediately.  It was an illogical layout with a door for each “room”…toilet, shower, tub.  And the fabricated marble in the sinks was all worn away.  But then we got into the house and the kitchen was so “80s” and dis-functional and ugly that remodeling the kitchen quickly moved into the number one redo project list.   And once the kitchen was done, we had to redo the main floor powder room so that guests would be comfortable.  And then it was Spring and the deck was falling apart so we needed to fix that so that we could spend time outside.  And every time any project finished and we looked at the list, something else planned or unplanned always trumped the master bathroom remodel.  There was the hail and wind that damaged all the windows on two sides of the house.  There was the electrical storm that affected the garage doors and washer/dryer.  There was the toddler niece coming for a visit who needed a working bathtub because she couldn’t yet take a shower so we remodeled the upstairs bathroom.

And so, seven years later, the master bathroom was just was it was when we moved in, if not a little worse for wear.  Over the years, the jacuzzi tub in the master bath stopped working so I used the space for storage.  And with all the remodeling projects, we pilfered doors from the master bath for other projects throughout the house.  And I spilled red nail polish on the cream colored tile floor and it stained the grout.

And finally, seven year later, there was nothing left to remodel but the master bath.  My husband completed all the demolition last year before his surgery.  I bought the floor and wall tile two years ago on sale in the hopes the project would start soon.  I temporarily moved all my stuff — make-up, hair care products, accessories and appliances, cleansers, nail stuff, contacts, buffers and such — down to the hall bathroom to share with my teenage son.

My son was a good “roommate” for the first few weeks.  He did a nice job keeping the hall bath tidy enough for out-of-town guests.  But after a while, I believe it was shortly after the winter dance at school, he slowly stopped cleaning up after himself.  At first, he left the stuff he uses to spike his hair open on the vanity counter.  Then it was a dirty T-shirt left in a ball on the floor.  Eventually the bathroom floor was littered with his size 13 large and stinky shoes and an athletic supporter was left hanging on a hook.

But I’m sure I was no picnic either.  My hot rollers or curling iron seemed forever precariously and dangerously plugged in and heating up on the vanity.  Feminine products invaded the space under the sink.   And the waste basket always had nasty looking make-up removing cotton balls, used tissues or a wad of hair from cleaning my hair brush.  (But at least I mostly got these items in the waste basket!)

My husband has recovered well from his surgery and in recent weeks, he’s been strong enough to resume the master bath remodeling work.  There was a lot of foundational work:  moving water lines, changing wiring and building pockets for a new pocket door into the bedroom before he got to the “fun” stuff…laying tile, painting and installing the vanity.

Installing the vanity is what he worked on this week and last night, the cabinet doors and drawers where installed.  And where was I while he was attaching those drawers? I was at the local bath shop buying drawer organizers, of course!

And so, this morning, even before the alarm went off, I took all my things off the shelves in the hall bath and raced back to the new bathroom, the new vanity and my clean, clear and empty new organizers.  I removed all the tags being careful to leave no residue.  I put all my make-up on the counter and examined each item to make sure it was worthy of placing in the clean, clear and empty organizers.  I wiped down some items and discarded some others.  And then put everything in its own compartment.  And continued filling the drawers with all my supplies.  Make-up in the first drawer, teeth and nail stuff in the second drawer and hair things in the third drawer.  I carefully closed each drawer, picked up a few bits of torn sticker off the floor, looked in the mirror, smiled, let out a long contented sigh and did my little happy clap of joy.

Why Can’t My Kids Change a Roll of Toilet Paper?

Before you get too grossed out, rest assured, they will get a new roll of toilet paper from under the sink when the old one runs out.  But apparently there is a great deal more effort involved to actually complete the process than they are capable of.

When they were younger, I never noticed this competency gap with my children because, well, because I changed the toilet paper roll for them.  Even after they had been reliably potty-trained and were taking care of business on their own, I changed the toilet paper just like I changed the sheets and the towels and anything else that needing changing and tidying.  And then it struck me that changing a roll of toilet paper was a task that given a not too complicated holder, even a young child could master.  In our house, there is only one toilet paper holder that is difficult to use and even I am tempted to leave a fresh role on the back of the toilet out of frustration when the rod keeps popping out of the grooves and goes “sproinging” onto the floor.

So, several years ago, we had a lesson in how to replace an empty roll of toilet paper.  We covered the basics:

  1. Push in on one end of the rod to make it smaller so it pops out of the grooves,
  2. Remove the empty roll and place it in the waste basket,
  3. Take a new, clean roll from under the sink,
  4. Slide it onto the rod,
  5. Get close to the holder and push in one end of the rod so that you can fit it back in the grooves,
  6. Line the rod up with the grooves (while still holding the end in),
  7. Release your grip on the end of the rod so that it returns to regular length and the little prong parts extend into the grooves in the holder

All three of my children tried the step by step process and I’m proud to report that they all mastered it in all the bathrooms except the one with the challenging holder.  We didn’t even try on that one.  And I figured we’d stick with the basics for years.  They were children for heaven’s sake and didn’t need to learn the advanced techniques such as whether or not the paper should roll off over or under the roll.

Early on, they seemed to enjoy these “big kid” responsibilities.  But somewhere along the way, the excitement and novelty wore off.  And now, despite the success of those early lessons, my daughters are unable to replace a roll of toilet paper.  When one roll is empty, they will get a new roll from under the sink and leave it on the back of the toilet, on the floor, propped on the old roll or balanced on the lid of the waste basket.  No amount of teasing, needling, nagging, punishing or yelling has changed this behavior.  I’ve timed it and we are talking another 6 seconds max to actually put the new role in the holder.   I’m sure it is possible that they are doing this as a game to push my buttons.  But I think instead that they are caught forever in sibling score keeping “I changed it last time, it is your turn” or “I wasn’t the one who finished the roll” (Note that indeed there are a few torn shreds still clinging to the cardboard roll — these are the same people who leave a thimble full of milk in the carton so that they don’t have to get another gallon of milk from the garage refrigerator.

Adieu 2013, Hello 2014 – Life with Teenagers (LwT) 1

Last night, at the stroke of midnight I was standing in our living room with my two daughters.  The youngest had grabbed a frying pan and wooden spoon as was banging away — and to think she’s had 4 1/2 months of percussion lessons at school!  My older daughter was counting down the seconds to midnight but for some reason was off by one second…Ryan Seacrest and the crowd in Times Square were counting down “10, 9, 8…” and my daughter was counting “11, 10, 9…”  I think she somehow thought this was funny.  I didn’t get it.

Earlier, between the TV shows that recapped the best and worst of 2013, I had informed my daughters that I wanted them to help me “stay current”.  This meant that every week, I wanted them to share what topics they and their friends were talking about, what was trending, videos and vines they were watching (see I learned about vines last night!) and music and artists that were hot.  They asked “why?” and I said I didn’t want to be a “fuddy duddy”.  They fell off their chairs laughing.  I suppose in hind sight, I might have picked a different word or phrase that a bit less telling as to my state of hipness (or lack thereof).

I was filled with dual conflicting emotions.  On the one hand I was immensely relieved that my husband would now have release from the pain of arthritis in his hip — he had just had hip replacement surgery.  I was so proud of my kids.  Their posts about their father and the relief they felt for him brought tears to my eyes.  I was with 2 of the greatest joys of my life and we were getting along and being silly (at my expense but that was okay).  But I was worried too because my son was at a party.  I had no qualms about the party or his behavior.  But New Year’s Eve is called “amateur night” and it was the other drivers that had me on edge.  Usually my husband is the one to wait up until everyone in the house was home and safe.  But he was resting in the hospital and so it was my job to stay up last night until everyone was accounted for.

I heard the garage door open and close.  I heard the back door open and close.  I heard footsteps down the creaky back hallway.  And then my phone buzzed with a text from my son and one simple word…”Home”.

 

Daily Project — Life with Teenagers

I’m not sure I want to call it a New Year’s Resolution.  Too much commitment.  Too much disappointment if I fail.  I like the idea of “personal challenge” better.  Maybe that is splitting hairs or rationalization.  But if it works, then that is what I’m going with.

So, I’m personally challenging myself to write everyday.  I’m now following the Daily Posts feed and I downloaded the 365 writing prompts to help me along.  There are so many projects and topics that I could choose – a couple of the obvious contenders:

  • My husband’s recovery from hip replacement surgery — but that is problematic for a couple of reasons:  1) It is his project; 2) I hope it doesn’t take 365 days; and 3) I’m sure it will work its way into some of my posts but just the inspirational ones and the funny ones
  • My professional journey to find a new career that is meaningful and impactful:  1) Whoa, that is really personal and maybe putting myself a little too much out there (yikes); 2) Again, hoping this one also does not take 365 days; and 3) Also I am confident this subject will work its way into numerous posts
  • My personal health and fitness goal to lose 50 lbs by the time I’m 50 years old: 1) Whoa, and I thought the job thing was a little too personal; 2) I don’t have 365 days until that lovely milestone; and 3) I envision a lot of cranky posts that won’t have the inspirational impact I was hoping for

So, I’ve landed on the idea for my 365 writing project as being about Life with Teenagers.