Keeping Up

Excited

So excited. Last night was my first Basic Climbing Class lecture and I am so excited for the class. So excited. And it feels really good to be excited.

The class has lectures every Wednesday. And outings every weekend. Through early June. A huge commitment, but I am looking forward to getting out (and up!). Learning new things. And building confidence in mountaineering. Curious about the team to which I will be assigned. Eight other people and three instructors. I must admit, I am a little nervous about this part. But, excited. So excited.

So excited. Last night was my first Basic Climbing Class lecture and I am so excited for the class. So excited. And it feels really good to be excited.

The class has lectures every Wednesday. And outings every weekend. Through early June. A huge commitment, but I am looking forward to getting out (and up!). Learning new things. And building confidence in mountaineering. Curious about the team to which I will be assigned. Eight other people and three instructors. I must admit, I am a little nervous about this part. But, excited. So excited.

Snooze

Each morning when I hit the snooze button, I think to myself: Ten More Minutes. But really, all I get is Nine Minutes. Who decided Nine Minutes? I want my Tenth Minute.

Nervous

L arranged a gathering for next Wednesday. And invited me. All of the girls could be there. Some of whom I have not seen in many months. All of whom I have not seen in a group since last summer. And I am scared.

Not to mention it requires me to spend time at L's house. which is J's house. And Miss Else's house.

I dropped Miss Else off on Sunday and she excitedly led me to the front door. How odd to see the place J lives. His life without me. And to see L, attempting normal, casual conversation despite the months of silence.

I suppose I fell off the radar. And am unsure of how to come back into range. Beep. Beep. Beep.

Nervous.

L arranged a gathering for next Wednesday. And invited me. All of the girls could be there. Some of whom I have not seen in many months. All of whom I have not seen in a group since last summer. And I am scared.

Not to mention it requires me to spend time at L's house. which is J's house. And Miss Else's house.

I dropped Miss Else off on Sunday and she excitedly led me to the front door. How odd to see the place J lives. His life without me. And to see L, attempting normal, casual conversation despite the months of silence.

I suppose I fell off the radar. And am unsure of how to come back into range. Beep. Beep. Beep.

Nervous.

Being a Mom

I have been thinking that maybe I could be a mom. And a better mom than before all of this.

Though my chances of having this opportunity are slim. The idea stirs a happy feeling in my belly that I never really expected.

I enjoy children. And I always have. I just never felt like I could be selfless enough to make the necessary sacrifices. But, lately, on my own, I am aware of how much I have to give.

I never really considered. I focused on what I was trying to get out of It All. Out of Life. But, now. I see. That there is more to It All. To Life. Than me. Though I certainly need more Me-Time than the average person, I, for the first time in a very long time, feel like I need more than Me-Time. I actually need You-Time. Or Other-Person-Time.

I can imagine cuddling. Breast-feeding. Disciplining. Sewing cute toys. Playing on the floor. And coaching soccer. Taking prom photos. And saving for college.

After finishing my grad school loans, of course. and doing a million other things. Perhaps a single lifetime will not be enough time. To do It All. And to have children.

In many ways, scared to be my parents. And in others, desperately hoping for the chance to be as wonderful as my parents.

The lesson, I suppose, as I am constantly trying to grab something from the past few months which can make me better, is to ask not what your country can do for you, but what you can do for your country. Here, country being the people (children, spouses, friends, etc.) around you. And again with the cliches. Though if Kennedy said it, is it still a cliche?

I have been thinking that maybe I could be a mom. And a better mom than before all of this.

Though my chances of having this opportunity are slim. The idea stirs a happy feeling in my belly that I never really expected.

I enjoy children. And I always have. I just never felt like I could be selfless enough to make the necessary sacrifices. But, lately, on my own, I am aware of how much I have to give.

I never really considered. I focused on what I was trying to get out of It All. Out of Life. But, now. I see. That there is more to It All. To Life. Than me. Though I certainly need more Me-Time than the average person, I, for the first time in a very long time, feel like I need more than Me-Time. I actually need You-Time. Or Other-Person-Time.

I can imagine cuddling. Breast-feeding. Disciplining. Sewing cute toys. Playing on the floor. And coaching soccer. Taking prom photos. And saving for college.

After finishing my grad school loans, of course. and doing a million other things. Perhaps a single lifetime will not be enough time. To do It All. And to have children.

In many ways, scared to be my parents. And in others, desperately hoping for the chance to be as wonderful as my parents.

The lesson, I suppose, as I am constantly trying to grab something from the past few months which can make me better, is to ask not what your country can do for you, but what you can do for your country. Here, country being the people (children, spouses, friends, etc.) around you. And again with the cliches. Though if Kennedy said it, is it still a cliche?

Difficult to Get Out of Bed

Miss Else spent the night with me and it was so nice to have her company. When she sleeps on the bed, she basically lays on top of you. Especially when the room is a little chilly. She tries to be so close and, though sometimes less than comfortable, the cuddle is so great.

She made it difficult to crawl out from under the covers this morning.

Miss Else spent the night with me and it was so nice to have her company. When she sleeps on the bed, she basically lays on top of you. Especially when the room is a little chilly. She tries to be so close and, though sometimes less than comfortable, the cuddle is so great.

She made it difficult to crawl out from under the covers this morning.

1:37

AJ : Joe, I need to ask your advice. Now I know you know a lot about love and women and all that  sort of thing...
Joe :  Oh, yeah, my wife left me for another woman and my girlfriend forced me to leave at gunpoint. Does this qualify me?
AJ :  Oh, yeah, definitely. It's about Corey. You know, I gotta tell her that I, uh, well, you know, that I uh...
Joe :  Love her?
AJ :  Yeah. Now how do i do that?
Joe :  You say 'I love you'. What do you want, written instructions?
AJ :  I'll tell her today. At noon. By noon. Or one. By 1:37 exactly, Joe.
Joe :  Well, good luck.

AJ :  Lucas, do you think it's possible for a person to be in love with someone else and not even know it?
Lucas :  In this life, there are nothing by possibilities.
AJ :  Well that's good, because I have to tell Corey I love her by 1:37.
Lucas :  That is an excellent time.

Cliche

Am learning it (it being life, I guess) is less about where you are, what you are doing, or what you have than who you are with.

A little unsure of where to go with this new found greeting-card knowledge, but I concede to the truth on which it appears to be based.

In a hubristic sort of way, I always imagined I was above cliches. That J and I were above the cheesy, ill-fated hallmark romances. We never celebrated Valentine's day. Until last year, which was quite nice, actually. An evening of oysters, new shoes, and home movies. (Not that kind of home movie, mind you.) I guess I figured we didn't need a date on the calender. We were together everyday.

We'd been through our share, In the college years. And the pre-wedding years. I imagined we had no reason to really be together, we'd had our chances to go our separate ways. And we didn't. We had talked about the work that a marriage would involve, the life we would have together. Sure, we would change and grow older, but we would do so together. Somehow, I thought we were better. Better than the fifty percent.

I guess, I thought I had it all. On top of the world. Better. Above the cliches. But, maybe, if I would have given pause to the truth on which the tag-lines of the world are based. The generations of wisdom which have quoted the words. Allowed for a moment the realization that though I had a lot, I did not know it all. And am not better.

Humbled, and sad, perhaps I will spend a bit more time in the greeting card isle. Consider a box of chocolates next February. And, most importantly, take value in who I am with.

Am learning it (it being life, I guess) is less about where you are, what you are doing, or what you have than who you are with.

A little unsure of where to go with this new found greeting-card knowledge, but I concede to the truth on which it appears to be based.

In a hubristic sort of way, I always imagined I was above cliches. That J and I were above the cheesy, ill-fated hallmark romances. We never celebrated Valentine's day. Until last year, which was quite nice, actually. An evening of oysters, new shoes, and home movies. (Not that kind of home movie, mind you.) I guess I figured we didn't need a date on the calender. We were together everyday.

We'd been through our share, In the college years. And the pre-wedding years. I imagined we had no reason to really be together, we'd had our chances to go our separate ways. And we didn't. We had talked about the work that a marriage would involve, the life we would have together. Sure, we would change and grow older, but we would do so together. Somehow, I thought we were better. Better than the fifty percent.

I guess, I thought I had it all. On top of the world. Better. Above the cliches. But, maybe, if I would have given pause to the truth on which the tag-lines of the world are based. The generations of wisdom which have quoted the words. Allowed for a moment the realization that though I had a lot, I did not know it all. And am not better.

Humbled, and sad, perhaps I will spend a bit more time in the greeting card isle. Consider a box of chocolates next February. And, most importantly, take value in who I am with.