I'm feeling like a slacker for not posting on a regular basis any more. I used to be able to sneak in a quick post at the office, and just hope that no one with any power over my employment would notice. But now I work for my son, and I constantly feel I'm not doing enough. Of course, most mothers think they're not good-enough mothers, so I guess my attitude at my new job is simply a follow-on to my attitude as a mother.A couple of notables events: my cousin, Cindy, visited Mother at the nursing home last Saturday, cell phone at the ready, so I was able to speak to Mother for a few minutes. By all accounts, she's anxious to get back to her beautiful apartment at Fletcher Park Inn. The more she hangs on to that desire, the harder she'll work in physical therapy. At least that's our hope. My oldest brother is supposed to go to NC this coming weekend, and we're hopeful he can move Mother back to her apartment.
Little Miss Ridley turned 7 on the 29th of May, and her talented mother threw a fab Beatles Rock Band birthday party for her on Sunday. I don't believe I've ever seen a 7-year-old with as much self-confidence as Ridley possesses. She was in her element, surrounded by friends and the star of the day. And what a hoot to hear all these elementary school children singing 50-year-old songs perfectly. I never knew all the words to the Beatles' songs, choosing rather to sing what I thought the words were. ("Lucy in disguise with diamonds.") The babes will take their first solo plane ride on Thursday, off to visit the Colorado set of grandparents. Their daddy and their uncle had taken many solo plane rides by the time they were 7 and 9, so Boston and Ridley are just following in well-worn footsteps.
I have good days and bad days at the new job. The bad days are when I can't figure out a piece of software or a quick way to make things work correctly—when I feel stupid; when I feel my 60-year-old brain just doesn't work like it did ten or twenty years ago. The good days are when I learn something new—when I master a technique or figure out a cool way to do something. I love those days, and I cling to the hope that they will become more frequent and the bad days will wither away.
The Jazzman and I snatched a little piece of time yesterday to visit the Y and the J to check out their gym plans. He is being enormously supportive of my doctor's directive to get my ass in gear. We're leaning toward the J, which is more reasonably priced, has better parking, and is just two blocks away from my house. We've taken morning walks twice this week on the neighborhood sidewalks. The first day I tripped on an uneven square of sidewalk and dropped my knee to the concrete with a thwack! Clearly I need level surfaces on which to walk.
And I'll close with the note the newly-60 PianoLady sent me. She was quoting one of her son's best friends. He had just returned home from his first year of college, after a year of institutional food. He shook his newfound protruding belly and said, "Don't tell me to get in shape. Round is a shape!"
You're now as caught up on my life as you're going to get!
2 comments:
Better parking but only two blocks away??
I wonder if I didn't state that clearly. The J is two or three blocks away from my house and has a decent parking lot. The Y is downtown—2.5 miles away, but the only parking is by paying for parking in a deck across the street or finding whatever on-street, metered parking you can find. When Jas and I went to see it around 9:30 a.m. yesterday, we had to park a block-and-a-half away. I'm thinking in the snow of winter, that's going to be a deterence to my getting my butt out of the cold house.
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