It's not always easy...

being a parent.  Like today, when I asked N to show me his project that's due the day after he gets home from his field trip, only to find out that he hadn't done anything during the four days of classtime they had been given to work on it.  I might've flipped out a little bit and grounded him from everything that resembled pleasantry.

being responsible.  Did I really want to get up today and do laundry, wash dishes, and pack N for 3 days away from me with the entire 5th grade?  Nope, not so much.  But, I did.  And it's not that I mind doing any of those things, but I really just wanted a lazy day in my bed.  Alone.  It's hard to enjoy your bed when washing your favorite sheets AND your duvet cover/comforter. 

being a grown-up.  Knowing that there's a full week of work waiting for me when I get to work tomorrow at 8...6 hours of busy work times 5 L.O.N.G. days equals my sanity coming into question.

relinquishing control.  Sometimes, things are just out of our hands.  Sometimes bad things happen to good people, and it sucks.  I can't be the boss all the time; there's someone else holding all the cards, and I just need to let Him do what He does best.  I just really suck at letting someone else take the wheel.

being cheesy.  Being a total nerd and having lame jokes takes a toll on a person.  You laugh, but coming up with material that makes people groan, roll their eyes, AND laugh simultaneously is a lot of work.  There's entirely too much tension and seriousness in life.  Sometimes, you just need someone who isn't afraid to make a complete idiot of themselves.  I'm that person.

watching your kids struggle.  Life is full of lessons that we learn at different times, in different ways, and I'm having a hard time standing by and watching.  I'm a fixer.  I'm a doer.  I make things better, and if I can't fully solve the problem, I at least bear some of the burden.  I can't do that now.  It's up to my boys (specifically N) to shoulder the burden and learn from it, and it kills me to sit back (literally on my hands) and watch him flounder.  This was NOT part of the deal, but I'm trying.  (Refer to the point about relinquishing control.)

letting go.  This one's kinda broad, but I've been struggling with letting go of people and things that I've been desperately clinging to, for various reasons.  Maybe things are the way they're meant to be, or maybe they'll get better/worse, but I'm finding it very difficult to hold onto something that's mostly non-existent.  I wish it weren't that way...but it is.  And it hurts.

being happy.  Happiness is a state of mind, and you're only as happy as you allow yourself to be.  Do I feel like things are missing in my life?  Yep.  Does that change the fact that I'm pretty content with the way things are?  Not really.  As my favorite little crab, Sebastian, says, "The seaweed is always greener in somebody else's lake..."  Why dwell on what's not there, when I have so much more going for me?  It's silly really.  There's no reason for a pity party...I've got too much to live for.

realizing you really are something special.  I tend to downplay my success and exploit my failures.  I'm not sure why because I have a ton to be proud of in my life.  I really do...and I should probably focus a little more on that and lot less on the icky stuff.

to accomplish everything on your "to do" list for the day/week/month/year/lifetime, but it doesn't mean you should quit trying.  If I gave up everytime things got difficult or heated, I would be a totally different person.  Some people thrive on completing their "to do" lists, and some don't feel like they're achieving anything if there isn't something left at the end of the day.  I'm a mixture: I love to know that I got everything accomplished that I set out to do, but I don't freak out if I have an insane number of items to complete in an unrealistic amount of time.  I used to freak out, but lately I've realized life is just too short.

to keep on truckin'.  Life's always going to throw you a curve when you least expect it.  My only hope is that the curve is being thrown by someone who looks really nice in a pair of baseball pants...

Aubs

Baseball

When I woke up this morning to rain, I was ridiculously excited...until I realized the steady drumming of rain more than likely meant I wouldn't be sitting in the stands, cheering on my Marlins.  Bummer!  This was quickly confirmed by an onslaught of emails from the baseball organization, promising that the boys would get to play...at some point.  N was completely bummed, and to be honest, so was I.  I absolutely LOVE going to watch him play.  It makes me wonder why we didn't do this a long time ago.  Oh, that's right...sometimes life just gets in the way.

N decided to hang out with me this afternoon instead of staying at his dad's house, so we did what every 10 year-old boy loves to do...  We went to IKEA!  (He hates IKEA, but he did surprisingly well...except for when he set all of the timers for 5 minutes simultaneously, then ran off giggling.  Truth: I was doing everything I could NOT to laugh, but inside I was rolling.)  We scored some great stuff, and I bought some towels for my dad's house, as he is a bachelor in a mancave and needs decorative help.  Also, IKEA creeps him out, and he refuses to walk in the doors.  I don't know what's wrong with him.

We got home, drenched to our knees, and decided to have a movie night...just me and my biggest boy.  As I'm typing this, I'm introducing him to the greatness of "The Rookie" with Dennis Quaid.  Words cannot describe how much I adore this movie, and if we couldn't have our own baseball game, this movie is the next best thing.  He is cracking up, and I love the sound of his giggles. 

I love baseball.  My boys love baseball.  We love it for reasons that are the same, and reasons that are different.  The game is magical, and seeing it in person is even better.  N has been a Rangers fan since he found out what baseball was, and B likes the Rangers too...but not as much as he likes the Yankees.  I think his love for the Yankees stems from the insane amount of joy he gets when he infuriates his brother to the point where he's almost incoherent.  In the past, I've put Yankees napkins in B's lunch box and Rangers napkins in N's.  I will cheer for either team, because I support my boys and their love of the game.  To them, it's a true love for the game...especially N. 

I, on the other hand, am a huge fan of baseball (duh!) AND the pants the players wear.  Seriously?  Baseball pants are probably the best things ever.  I used to think that it was embarrassing to like baseball for that reason, but I'm not alone.  Butts look amazing in baseball pants.  It's good to keep things real.  I'm a Pudge fan: for his skill, heart, obvious love of the game, and the way he fills out a pair of baseball pants.  I have no shame.  Honesty is totally the best policy.  When Ian Kinsler "drops it like it's hot" each time he's up to bat, I giggle like a schoolgirl.  Watching my guy friends play baseball in high school and college was well worth the drive.  Very few can make baseball pants look as good as some of the guys I know make them look. 

We agonize over the losses and are ecstatic when our team(s) win.  The fact that my boys have been able to see one of their favorite teams make it to the World Series TWICE (even though they haven't won, but let's not get started on that) has allowed them to see that you can do anything you put your mind to, and dreams can come true.  If they dream it, they can make it happen, and I hope and pray they do.  I'll be behind them every step of the way...encouraging them and cheering them on, even when they tell me not to! 

That's our jobs as parents...because sometimes our kids really just want us to show up, even if they say they don't care.  N is only 10, and he's already saying he doesn't want to hear me cheering for him at games.  I asked him if he cared if his dad or other parents on the team cheered for him by name, and he said that was fine, but not for me and Nana.  When I asked him why, his answer broke my heart in both positive and negative ways all at the same time.  How is that even possible?  "Mom, I don't need to hear you and Nana cheering for me, because I know you always show up.  You're always there for me.  I don't have to hear you to know you're there."  Even though my boy gets embarrassed when he's in the spotlight, he knows his mom is always going to show up, and she always will...even when he thinks he doesn't want her around.

It's one of those things that I do really well, most of the time.  I do my best to be an "in your face" parent.  When my boys are with me, I know what they're doing, with whom, where, and when they'll be back.  I don't understand the parents who just let their kids roam without really knowing where they are.  N doesn't need a cell phone because I always know where he is, and I like it that way.  He's only 10...I want him to grow up and all, but I don't need him to rush it.  He's only going to want me around for so long.

I'll leave you with this...because these words have been running through my mind for at least a month, and it's something that means something to me as a parent, a woman, and a (sometimes slightly obsessive) wonderer:

"Some dreams stay with you forever,
Drag you around but bring you back to where you were.
Some dreams keep on gettin' better,
Gotta keep believin' if you wanna know for sure."
- Eli Young Band

Aubs

What's your song?

For as long as I can remember, I've loved music: listening, singing, but never playing.  I don't have the patience for that.  It's something that the three of us can agree on, although we typically never agree on the song.  I used to go through my ipod, looking for their favorites by request, but once my ipod hit 1400, I had to decline requests.  It just takes too long, and inevitably, the song they want is the next to the last song. 

Each of us seems to have our favorite song/genre, with the exception of B, who just seems to live to annoy the crap out of whomever has to listen to what he picks.  He, typically, picks the same song over and over again.  You'll never know how thankful I was to find that he had outgrown his "Hey, Soul Sister" stage...and his "Firework" stage, and his "Rolling in the Deep" stage, and so on.  On repeat.  Every single day. 

N is a fan of the Beastie Boys, and by fan, I mean slightly obsessed.  He knows almost all of the words to every BB song on his ipod (and mine too, for that matter), but it doesn't stop there.  He also enjoys the lyrical genius of Steely Dan (his dad's influence, not mine), and a little Coolio now and then.  Yeah, that's totally me.  Who doesn't know all the words to "Gangsta's Paradise?"  Exactly.

I am the most eclectic of our little trio.  I rotate through genres, depending on my mood and who's in the car with me.  If I'm alone, driving to and from Houston (as I'm known to do fairly frequently), I'm blasting Eminem and Lil Wayne with some Maroon 5, Everclear, and Drake.  I keep myself entertained.  When I'm in the mood, which is more often than not lately, I blast the country music with the windows down and the volume up.  Driving to work is one of my favorite times of the day...and not just because of the cops I wink at every morning outside of a local prep school.  (Sidenote: I don't find any of them attractive at all, but they look bored, and now they wait for me to drive by.  It's the little things that crack me up on a regular basis.)  I think, deep down, I'll always be a country girl first: Eli Young Band, Jason Aldean, George Straight, Pam Tillis, Tim McGraw...I love 'em all.

The bottom line is, music is such a huge part of life...for everyone, whether they realize it or not.  Maybe it's just me, but I tend to equate songs to people in my life.  Everyone has one...and some have several.  It just depends on the depth of the relationship and/or my mood, and as I was driving home from work this afternoon, I wondered if anyone else does this too, or if I'm just as weird as I imagined.

Does anyone have certain songs that come on the radio that stop them in their tracks, and bring up memories (happy or sad) or bring a huge smile to your face because ________________ crossed your mind when "Should've Been a Cowboy" by Toby Keith came on your ipod?  When that song comes on, I think of high school, and the end of football games.  It was just what we did.  Just like when I hear any number of songs, I'm immediately transported to Garner State Park.  When "Amarillo By Morning" is starting to trail away, I swear I can hear feet shuffling across the dance floor.  If you've ever been there, you know what I mean...and if you haven't, you should go.  It's where magic happens!  It made me wonder: What's my song? 

Mine seems to change regularly, depending on my mood or what I'm thinking about that day...but lately, I've found myself identifying with certain elements of completely different songs, and it's made me realize a few things.  1. I know at least some of the words to almost every song.  2. While I think about people based on the songs, I wonder if people do the same thing about me.  3.  On all the sweet country songs, sometimes I think "Awww, that would be so sweet if it were about me.  (and finally) 4. I need a life. :)

So, as we get ready for our fun-filled weekend of class, homework, baseball, and getting N ready for his 3 day, 2 night school field trip (Seriously, why didn't these exist when I was a kid?), I'll leave you with a line from a Jason Aldean song that seriously has me thinking...

Is the life that you've chosen free from regret, or is what might've been just too hard to forget?

That, my friends, is a post for another time.

Aubs

(Garner State Park: because everyone needs a happy place...and this one's mine)

It starts.

Today, I was talking to my biggest boy (N) about Michael Jackson holding his kid over the balcony railing...not because he's old enough to remember or it was even relevant to anything at all, but because I was supposed to be guessing "King Kong" on Draw Something, and all I could see was Michael Jackson holding a baby wrapped up in a blue blanket while a red plane flew overhead.  Yeah, I know.  It was obvious to me, too, but I just couldn't make it work with the letters I'd been given.  Oh well.

The whole point of that, and the title of this post, was that N randomly started singing "The Circle of Life" and calling me "Simba" instead of my usual title of "Mom."  That got ME started with all of the random lines from "The Lion King" and Rafiki just got stuck in my head.  I love that having children allows me to be able to watch Disney movies without it being considered weird.  Sidenote: I'd totally watch 'em anyway.  I'm way weird; it's part of my obvious charm.

We are in the midst of a crazy semester: all three of us are in school, I work 3/4 time (it's legit, I promise), and N's rocking it in baseball.  I'm looking forward to it settling down a little bit, but I doubt it'll last long.  I swear, we thrive on the chaos that we force ourselves into on a daily basis.  We're halfway through baseball season this weekend, and I'm so proud of my boy.  He pitched last weekend, and I've never been so nervous.  He's only 10!  I've thoroughly enjoyed watching him grow and gain more discipline over the past month or so...now, if only it could be utilized at home, too!

B (the little biggest boy) is taking a break from all things sporty, and frankly, I'm not sure how single parents handle sports with multiple children and everyday life.  It's definitely a learning process, that's for sure.  He did Tae Kwon Do for quite a while, and while he liked it, he didn't seem to sad to give it up.  We've adopted a "one sport" rule, so in order to try something else, he had to take a break.  My silly asthmatic, allerg-erific boy wants to play soccer.  Or baseball.  Because both of those are EXCELLENT choices for him.  He's stubborn and determined, just like his mom.  Just ask her...

I tend to "speak first, think later" a lot, and I've found myself trying to stop and just slow down a little.  If I don't slow down, I might miss something important.  I've had enough missed opportunities to last my whole lifetime, so it's something I'm really trying to do, not only for me, but for my boys, too.  It's really hard for a planner (read: control freak) like me to just slow down and take the day for what it is, but I've learned, especially here recently, that life's too short to just blow through it.  You miss out on so much when you're hurrying from point A to point B, and if you don't watch out, you may never get a second chance to experience what you missed in your rush to get there.

So, my new mission in life is to pay attention, to be there, and to take my time.  It freaks me out...a lot, but I'm going to do my best.  I don't want to wonder what I missed out on; I want to be able to say, "Yeah, I did that...and it was the best decision I ever made."

Catch y'all later!

Aubs