Remember When Forrest Gump Just Stopped Running? That's Kinda Me Right Now.

Maybe I'm running out of things to say.  I suppose after blogging three days a week for a year and a half, that could happen - even to someone like me who is constantly wording thoughts in my head.  Since I don't share all of my life on my blog, my subject matter is often limited to esoteric anecdotes, mindful living reminders, laundry and trouble with wild birds.  I choose not to share the vast majority of my thoughts and experiences in order to maintain my privacy and to protect the innocent.  That said, I'm discovering that the twenty percent of my life that's comfortably sharable and moderately funny, doesn't change much from year to year.  When I sit down to write, it's like deja vu.  Or Groundhog Day.

So I'm going to stop.  Maybe for awhile, maybe forever.  If something interesting or funny happens or I come upon some fresh insight or an unusually cute outfit, I might share it.  We'll see.  There is just so much out there and I want what I write to fill a unique and special space.  Is there even one available?  Regardless, I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart for reading my words.  It made me feel so good to write publicly again, but now you'll have to sneak into my house and find my journal if you need a little Minutiae.  But don't because that would freak us all out.

Remember to stay grateful.  And that there is humor to be found in almost every situation. 

I miss my blog already.

thanks and love.

No Matter How Challenging It Is To Coordinate Multiple Teen Sport Schedules, Nothing Will Ever Compete With The Nagging Fear Of Missing Your Turn To Bring Post-Game Snacks When The Kids Were Really Little. I Spent Three Years Driving Around With A Case Of Capri Suns And 25 Mini Bags Of Sun Chips Just In Case Something Had Slipped Through The Cracks.

I think my weekly doses of Minutiae may be moving to a summer schedule of Tuesdays and Thursdays.  While these posts clearly don't take up my entire day - there is a significant amount of time involved.  I mean, those clothes don't just put themselves on the floor to be photographed, do they?  And we seem to have entered an entirely new world of summer sport-based 'busyness'.  Both the kids are on new teams that are competing all weekend every weekend and a Monday-Wednesday-Friday schedule of blog posts doesn't seem to be fitting in very well.

My Fridays are now devoted to last-minute trips to Dick's to buy my weekly load of Gatorade water bottles (where do they go??) and Google mapping the 17 fields we need to locate in the next 48 hours.  And Mondays find me wondering what in the world made me think it was a good idea to start a load of laundry on Saturday morning that I only remembered days later when we were all forced into a post-shower dabbing off with paper towels.  I am open to any and all tips regarding mildew scent removal.

These new teams are also run by younger people which has added an unexpected challenge.  Young coaches are a tad more comfortable with social media than I am, and now I feel I'm being forced to adopt new modes of communication just to stay up-to-date on the teams' goings on.  Soccer requires a special username and password to access the team website simply to confirm an upcoming practice time via the online calendar.   This is meant to be super useful - apparently your phone can simply sync up with the website calendar and voila! you're always current.  I do not use a calendar on my phone, I like a good old-fashioned paper calendar, but thanks to my lagging cyber skills I'm not only forced to spend extra time cross referencing their calendar with mine for last minute changes,  but I'm also battling the icy fear that technology is passing me by all too quickly.

Our lacrosse team communicates mostly via Twitter.  'Nuff said.

I'm wearing this:

Today I'm dressed in my hippie gardener look.  Because I'm going to finish planting all the stuff in my pots and I intend to do it while listening to music from the 70's.

gratitude:  a couple hours alone with the fam, ice cream, patio sitting, sleeping kids

thanks and love.

On Living With Teens Who's Days Continue Even After You've Gone To Bed. It's Always Interesting To Peek Into The Kitchen Trash Can In The Morning And Piece Together The Parts Of The Evening We May Have Missed. Apparently Last Night Involved Brownies.

Some of the transitions we've been forced to make made as parents are incredible when you really think about them.  It used to be that the whole house had to be cleaned up, locked up, and I would need to personally witness the sleeping faces of my sweet babies before I could even consider heading to bed myself.

Last night I crept up the stairs holding my cup of chamomile tea around 11:00 and looked over my shoulder at the children in my kitchen.  I saw JD laying on the island wearing only his lacrosse shorts.  Eliza and a friend were drawing a Colorado flag on his chest and mixing up some henna to cover their outline.  A male friend of theirs was standing nearby, chatting with the girls and swinging his car keys on one of those lariats they all carry narrowly missing our cabinets with every circle he made.  The floor was strewn with lacrosse equipment, flip flops, soccer sweats and a damp towel (cause of wetness, undetermined).  As I reached the top stair, the doorbell rang and, from the sound of it, at least two more people entered our home.  They were not using their inside voices.

So that's it.  Summer nights with teenagers.  I drifted off to a light sleep, but let's be honest, it's impossible to really hit a serious REM stage under those conditions.  Even though we're not reading bedtime stories and enjoying bath time, I still won't give up total consciousness until the kids have closed up the house and come in to say goodnight.  Now that I think about it, the nighttime routine is basically the same except our roles are somewhat reversed:  I'm being tucked in now.  I'll still get up from time to time to peek in at their sweet sleeping faces, but it's usually around 2:00 in the morning, and as I step into their rooms to make my way to their beds I make every effort not to fixate on the fact that nearly every inch of their floors are covered with clothes I swear I just washed.  I'm just glad they're safe and sound.  That's all that really matters.

I'm wearing this.

We'll be at a lacrosse game this evening, so jeans are in order.  Of course, based on the forecast, this entire look may be covered with a raincoat at game time.  "Can't get enough of watching sports in the rain," she said with a forced enthusiasm.

gratitude:  having a home the kids like to hang out in, Geoff's cancelled trip for next week, new sport adventures, my voice returning

thanks and love.

In Keeping With My Tradition Of Mostly Writing About Whatever Happens To Be On My Mind, We Delve Into The Fascinating Topic Of Laundry Today. I Guess I'm Still Riding The High From Finding A Pair Of Socks For Geoff Before He Left For The Airport This Morning During A Frantic Search Through A Load That Had Been Moved From The Dryer, To A Chair, Then To The Couch And Included Those Microfiber Clothes That Every Single Sock Sticks To Like Velcro. It Was Quite A Moment.

I do all the laundry for our family.  We're not one of those households that require the kids to start doing their own washing once they hit the teen years or enter high school.  While I admire those of you that can confidently hoist that responsibility on your kids, my children will be total laundry rookies when they head to college.  And I'm okay with that.

Personally, I can't imagine the chaos that would ensue if we were all in charge of cleaning only our own clothes.  I guarantee we'd all want to do our loads at the exact same time.  We could make a schedule, I suppose, but schedules work for us for about two weeks.  It's nothing I'm proud of but how many chore charts and reading logs do we need to start and never finish before we realize that's just not who we are?

Plus, we have those high-capacity machines and I push them to their limits (trust me, there is always room for another pair of jeans in there).  It would seem like wasted space if we were each tossing in cute little bunches of clothing.  Our loads are worthy of a weight belt or at least a regular reminder to lift with your legs.

And I don't really mind doing the laundry.  It's not like I have to haul the clothes down to the river and beat them on a rock to get them clean.  Basically I sort them by color (which is somewhat soothing in an OCD kind of way), toss them in the machine and press a few buttons.  No big deal.  I think modern laundering is almost a celebration of how far we've come technologically as a people.  Folding the clothes, however, is another story.  How about some advancements there, inventor-types?

I'm wearing this.

I just don't have it in me to try to photograph myself today, so clothes on the floor it is.

And on a waaaaaaayyyy more meaningful note, I'd like to acknowledge the passing of the incredible Maya Angelou.  She has been one of my favorite poets for over 25 years.  I went to a reading she did at the University of Colorado when I was in graduate school there and I feel so lucky to have heard her live.  While her writing is undeniably beautiful and powerful, hearing her read her poems in person, with her unique tone and cadence, was magic.  Here is one of my very favorite pieces of hers:

Phenomenal Woman

Pretty women wonder where my secret lies.
I'm not cute or built to suit a fashion model's size 
But when I start to tell them,
They think I'm telling lies.
I say,
It's in the reach of my arms,
The span of my hips, 
The stride of my step, 
The curl of my lips. 
I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman, 
That's me.

I walk into a room
Just as cool as you please, 
And to a man,
The fellows stand or
Fall down on their knees. 
Then they swarm around me,
A hive of honey bees. 
I say,
It's the fire in my eyes, 
And the flash of my teeth, 
The swing in my waist, 
And the joy in my feet. 
I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.

Men themselves have wondered 
What they see in me.
They try so much
But they can't touch
My inner mystery.
When I try to show them, 
They say they still can't see. 
I say,
It's in the arch of my back, 
The sun of my smile,
The ride of my breasts,
The grace of my style.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.

Now you understand
Just why my head's not bowed. 
I don't shout or jump about
Or have to talk real loud. 
When you see me passing,
It ought to make you proud.
I say,
It's in the click of my heels, 
The bend of my hair, 
The palm of my hand, 
The need for my care. 
'Cause I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.
—Maya Angelou

gratitude:  the smell of summer, Maya Angelou's writing, lilacs, the end of the school year

thanks and love.

We're Headed To A Lacrosse Tournament This Weekend And I Have A Terrible Case Of Laryngitis. I Hope The Players Will Be Able To Function Without The Insightful Tips I Provide From The Sidelines. I'm Always Amazed That Having Never Played Lacrosse Before I Seem To Know Exactly What They Need To Be Doing On The Field.

We have these two doves hanging around our house lately.  As I understand it, they partner for life and I've seen real proof that they are truly committed to each other.  The other day one of them ran into a window on our house.  The bird was instantly knocked unconscious and fell hard into the garden.  The other dove landed next to the bad flier and tried to get it up again, nudging it with its beak, but to no avail.  Eliza peeked out the window to see what happened and must have startled the bird because it picked up its unconscious friend with its claws and flew to the base of a nearby tree for some privacy.  We checked back later and both of them were gone.  I've since seen the two feeding in our yard again and I'm sure the unconscious bird has no idea what happened.  The other bird appears relieved that its partner survived the accident, but I've also seen it just watching its friend with a faraway look in its eyes.  Eventually it just shakes its head and starts back pecking the ground for food.  I guess it's all part of being bonded for life.

On that note, I'd like to wish my darling Geoffrey a very Happy Anniversary this weekend.  If you ever flew into a window I'd whisk you away to recover under a tree and I can only hope you'd do the same for me.  I love you!

I'm wearing this.

I was looking for something that would transition seamlessly from a three-hour car ride to an FAC with a few team parents.  Boyfriend jeans and gladiator sandals seem to fill the bill.  Whenever do they not?

gratitude:  green landscapes, new cars, serendipity, long weekends

thanks and love.

I Need Glasses (Duh), But I Also Need A Pet. I Gave The Bunnies That Nibble Our Grass A Dirty Look When I Saw Them Eating In Our Neighbor's Yard. They Didn't Seem To Care.

Just a quick post today.  No time.  What I thought would be a lunch today has turned into a morning coffee and even if I'd wanted to plan ahead and write something last night, it would have been impossible as I was at the end of year high school soccer banquet where I ate a very carb-centric buffet dinner and squinted at a heartwarming video from the back of the room trying in vain to make out a shape on the screen that resembled my daughter.

And also from the #aremyglassesreadyyet? file, I was pulling into our neighborhood yesterday and saw the most adorable little animal at the side of the street.  It had a cute round head and short, floppy ears.  It even seemed to be playing in the grass, adding to its adorableness.  Was it a big prairie dog?  A small bear?  As I got closer, I saw that it was actually a brown paper bag that moved when the wind blew.  It was disappointing, to say the least.

I'm wearing this.

I don't know.  It's flowers and a sweater because it's cloudy, but not that cold.  It's jeans and sandals because it's wet, but not all the time.  Stylewise this weather is less than fun.

gratitude:  rain, Allegra, catching up, JD's homemade biscuits

thanks and love.

Recycling Day In Our Neighborhood Always Makes Me Feel Weird. Everyone Else Has A Single Plastic Trash Can And We Have That Plus Two Full Bins, Multiple Cardboard Boxes, And Extra Bags Of Stuff On Top. When They Pour It In The Truck The Sound Of Glass Bottles Is Deafening. I Want To Yell "We Entertained And Online Shopped These Past Couple Weeks!" But Then I Realize Probably No One Is Paying Attention To Our Recycling So I Don't.

Mondays don't look pretty over here.  Especially this close to the end of the school year.  Rather than drill sergeant my way through the weekend, I tend to just let it be.  People are constantly coming and going, balls are being thrown and kicked, food prepared and consumed, fire pits lit, blankets carted to the out of doors, papers written, assignments completed, projects forgotten at home that require last minute drop offs, and household tasks started and sometimes finished, sometimes not.   It looks chaotic because it is.  Sometimes I think I could do (maybe should do?) a better job of just keeping things in line, but if I did, I'd just spend my entire weekend tidying and reminding and scurrying and that just doesn't sound like how I want to spend my time.

So when Monday rolls around I try to regain control.  At least the illusion of control for only a few short hours.  And this being the last Monday of the school year it has dawned on me that we're entering basically a three month long weekend.  Our  school year rhythm will leave us next week and we'll be without our academic calendar-imposed structure.  I'm working to develop a healthy mindset to prevent the "it's all closing in on me" feeling you get when you feel you've lost control of the place you call home and you just need A MOMENT.

I'm going to live as if we're spending the next few months in a vacation house on the beach somewhere.  And that's basically what it'll be like here at home minus the ocean and noting there will, in fact, be regular work going on.  But even when you're staying in a vacation home, you still have to keep on top of things - like laundry, groceries, general tidiness, etc.  Somehow though, those tasks seem less annoying when you're vacationing.  So I'm shifting my brain to vacation mode.

Our pace will change, but since we must remain functional as a group, I'll consciously loosen my grip without completely letting go.  And when I do have to dive deeper into family management/organization/bossing around, I'll do it with a more laid back attitude (God willing).  I want us to enjoy this time - as our kids get older every minute just seems so incredibly precious - and I don't want to be a shrew.  I also don't want our kids to look back on their childhood and imagine they lived in constant chaos so I'll endeavor to find balance.  Sometimes I may have to do it with the help of a white noise recording of waves crashing on the beach (there's an app for that) and sometimes perhaps with a wine spritzer or two (heavy on the wine).

But always, always with so much gratitude because these are very special times.  Let us not forget.

I'm wearing this:

It's hot and I've committed myself to getting our raised beds functioning ASAP so I'll be playing farmer today.  Last year we planted pumpkins too late and ended up with only two and they we're pathetic - I think I saw a robin actually pick one of them up and fly away.  It was humiliating.

gratitude:  Advil, group texts between the family, online shopping for Geoff, evenings together

thanks and love.