First world problem

Today it's cold and rainy and my 11 year old heads out the door to school without a coat.

"You should wear a jacket. It's cold and rainy," I say.

"Oh, it's nice out there...I'll be fine," says he.

Now because I'm trying my very, very best to let my kids learn their own lessons, I watched him leave the house with the knowledge that he would surely be miserable. But what's really the worst thing that could happen? He's cold. He's wet. Big deal. He's not gonna die. So why do I think of this every time I look out the window?

Sigh....

Such big problems I have. ;)

Broken

I have been looking around my house lately and realized that almost everything I own is a hand-me-down. Battered, scratched, dented, scuffed and bruised, our house has what we affectionately term that "lived in" feeling.

I feel like that today too. Used up, worn out and ready to be donated to the local thrift shop. My mind feels weathered and I looked in the mirror this morning and noticed a nice, deep wrinkle in my forehead. Wonderful.

It's during these times that I am so grateful for the helping hands and inspired hearts of those around me. A youth leader, a sister, a friend, a neighbor, a visiting teacher; people who care about me and seem to call or stop by at just the right moments. It patches up my weak parts and makes me think that I might just get a little more use out of this used up brain.

Oh my aching head

Life started with a bang this morning, but only in the form of a migraine splitting the back of my head in two. I couldn't drag myself out of bed so Abby stayed home from school, much to her disappointment, but decided to take care of me with a serving of granola bars and tepid tap water. Sometimes she is so sweet it makes my heart hurt.

Two Exedrin and two hours later I treated myself to a homemade cinnamon roll I had made the night before. Voila! Migraine gone! I have uncovered the secret cure to migraines: carbs and caffeine. Two of my favorite things.

In other news, Shawn started his new job in the ER at Mountain West Medical center in Tooele on Monday. He was nervous at first, but in true Shawn fashion, jumped right in and is loving it. This is a sample of our telephone conversation last night:

"Hey Meg, I had a great day! Most of it was pretty steady and normal, but then we had two kids and one adult come in with broken arms and one lady who was so hysterical that I had to restrain her in order to give her a sedative. It was AWESOME!"

That sounds like a nightmare to me, which is why I would be a terrible nurse. But I am sooooo glad that Shawn is finally in a job that he loves. He belongs in an ER where life is always different and usually exciting.

Now that Shawn is in a steady job and Abby will be starting 1st grade in August, I have been contemplating the possibility of going back to school and finishing my bachelor's degree. The only problem is that I have no idea what I want to do. I have taken what feels like hundreds of "career aptitude" tests, but the results are vague. How do I find my niche in life now that my kids are getting older? I've thought about a degree in English but that terrifies me because you have to be really smart to do that. And let's face it; I'm old and not that smart. A degree in computers would be fun, but the field is so competitive and I am so not a competitive person. A degree in music is also appealing but not exactly the most useful. I would love to teach music to junior high or high school age kids, but the arts programs are constantly getting budget cuts or are taken out of schools completely. I know there are so many possibilities out there but I just don't know where to start looking. Help!!! I need advice. Thinking about it makes me head hurt. Again.

Life with Abby

Abby:  "Mom...I think I want to go visit America. Because then I could be on America's Funniest Home Videos."

I got news for ya, Abby. With the things you say, you could be the star of that show!

My crazy underground garage

I am not a late person. I hate being late, I hate it when others are late, I hate it when other people make me late and in fact, the very thought of being late to anything sends me into a panic. As a result of this semi-quirkiness not only am I early for everything, but I am ready to leave early for anything, just so I can be earlier than early. 

Such is the case at this very moment. It is 4:46 p.m. and I don't need to leave until 5:30 for a concert that starts at 7. But am I ready? Why yes, of course I am. And I have been ready for at least an hour. Now I am suspended in that vacuum of time that exists between now and the designated departure with nothing to do but pace the house. I seriously drive myself insane by doing this. Why can't I chill out?

Another thing to blame on my anxiety, I guess.

So I decided to sit down and write, hoping that not only could I fill some time but maybe, just maybe, I can talk myself back into a semi-rational state of mind that tells me that everything will still work out if I am not there 20 minutes before the doors open. I will find a seat. I will enjoy the concert. Life will move on. In fact, maybe I should let myself leave at 5:45 just so I can push myself into my fears a little. Like exposure therapy or something.

I do this sort of thing constantly. I drop Abby off at school at 8:40 and then I mentally count down the minutes until I pick her up. For example, every time I look at the clock I think stuff like, "Ok, it's 10:30. I have one hour before I need to leave to pick her up." I even have reminders set on my phone so I don't forget, something that I doubt would ever happen since I am constantly thinking about it the entire time time she is gone.

In fact, I am hardly ever late for anything. I am at least 10 minutes early to church and I am so immobilized by this fear that I would rather skip sacrament meeting altogether than walk in during the opening song. My church meeting doesn't start until 1, but I get in the shower by 10, get myself all ready to go and then have 2 hours to fret about the house, checking my lesson that I have already looked at a hundred times and trying to coax the kids out of their pajamas and into the shower. I literally waste an entire morning doing something that I should only spend 30 minutes on.

Help me! What do I do to control this? I can't be alone in my neurosis. Even as I sit here I am starting to freak out because I really want to post this before I leave but I keep getting interrupted. Heaven forbid if I didn't post this until next week, but I can't do that because it would be late!! Ahhh!

Welcome to my crazy underground garage.