And just like that...

Our youngest turned 13 at the end of July. This seems impossible. Surreal in a way I cannot wrap my head around. Mary is a teenager. I now have three teenagers and one almost adult. And in March I will have three teenagers and one adult. And next July I will be a stone's throw away from fifty.

It is happening, all this adulting and moving on. It doesn't matter if I am ready for it, it is happening. This summer found our oldest in Bali. Nicole was there to fulfill a college credit and teach English to the children. Her social media is full of lots of pictures. She had  the time of her life. None of the pictures have the non English speaking children, but lots of colorful landscape and colorful drinks.

Our high school Jr. was in New York this summer at a journalism program in Manhattan. It woke Paige up. She is ready now to think about college and leaving home and decide what kind of experience she will have in two years.

The college bound second born has been  home working four jobs before heading to New York for school in the fall. Reagan has a work ethic like no other. It was impressive. It is her time. Going across country is the right move for her. It isn't all rainbows and unicorns as she gets ready to go.  We draw battle lines. She wanting to be an adult. Me wanting her to do things my way.

They are adventurous. They have a bigger picture of life than the small town we chose to raise them in. This was by design. It was what I wanted for them. A big picture view of life and what is out there. It's both exciting and mind numbing in a way that is hard to describe. Because even though this is what I wanted for them, there is also the reality that this is what will lead them all away from us. Which I knew. Which I have been planning for, but still...planning is different than happening.

I quit my job. Some will say I "retired" and that is a nice word. But I was a teacher for 25 years, some of those years part time,  and I am not 50 so the state teacher retirement system isn't going to let me "retire." It's really a system only designed to benefit those that work for many years, in a row, and decide to leave well after 50. It's fine. It was time for me to go. I no longer agreed with the profession I was once so in love with. I wasn't teaching anymore so much as just giving a series of constant tests. With each test I was just saying, "THIS test is the important one!!!" Only really none of them were important. But this is a blog for another day.

I will miss the children. There were a few success stories along the way. A few I made a difference in their lives. Mostly I will miss my grade level partner. He was hard to leave. For ten years I had the best of the best. I do not say this lightly. I had worked with some REALLY good people before Ken. But Ken, he was gold. I did not have even one moment of one day that I was frustrated or angry or irritated or even vaguely annoyed. Every day I showed up, we smiled, we laughed, we enjoyed the day. He understood not to worry about the small things. He understood how to be flexible. He understood what is important. He understood it all. I was blessed.

In my new "retirement" I am subbing. I really love it. I am teaching and enjoying the children, without the stress of any kind of responsibility to the district. It is a good fit for me right now. On my second day of subbing I was displaced to the library. Basically the largest tree in Lodi had fallen on the classroom I was to teach in that day. No one was hurt, it happened in the night. It was surreal to be there on a day that changed the history of a school. It is a small country school and many generations have passed through it's doors and the memories associated with the beautiful tree are deeply felt. I arrived home that day to all of the trees behind my home gone. We back up to a railroad and they are in charge of the land. No warning given. They just cut down all the trees. My beautiful, peaceful, shady backyard. Ruined. And just like that in one day...trees, important, old, huge trees...all gone.


God is speaking to me. He is speaking to me loudly and with wood chippers. I need to quiet myself, be still and listen to what he is trying to say to me. This is not my strong suit. I am more of a "charge ahead and get it done (and done my way) kind of girl." But, even I know he is speaking to me. 


It's all just changing. It's changing and I have been excellent at embracing the changes and letting go, but in reality I was only good at letting go of  the change I had total control over. The changes I didn't have control over, I was hanging on to...tightly, with white knuckles and no blood flow. On tree day...there it was...change, big change I had no control over. Time to let go. So that is where I am and what I am trying to do. Trying to let go of things I have no control over. It's a process. But, you know God is speaking to me so I am working on it...If the trees mean something else, I will let you know.

I Am Exhuasted

I am fucking exhausted. If you are opposed to the F word, I get it, I understand, I will totally not mind if you don't read my blog, talk about me behind my back, or delete me as a facebook friend. I was kind and left it off the title, but the reality is this...I am 48 and I am fucking exhausted.
 
Not from kids or my full time job or my husband or any of the things that we hear complaints about on any given day.  Although all those things are exhausting. I am exhausted from just KEEPING MYSELF UP! I am working ridiculously hard and paying ridiculous amounts of money to look...OK.

Honestly, if I had put this kind of time and devotion in to myself in my 20's, I think I could have been a super model. At the very least had some kind of B level existence on reality TV or local beauty pageants. Certainly Miss Lodi Grape could have been within my reach if I had only put the time and energy and money into keeping myself up. But, I didn't. I washed my face, I guess. I worked out once in awhile, I guess. I lost weight when necessary to step up my dating game, or fit into my clothes post pregnancy.  But, compared to what needs to happen now, at 48, I did nothing!

My hair is colored. I can't complain about this because there was a time in my life when I had no hair, so it seems wrong to now complain about the time and money needed to keep up the hair I am now lucky to have. I have to buy expensive shampoo and conditioner for the hair I now am lucky to have and upkeep. Now that I am older the regular shampoos aren't good for my hair, they strip away the  expensive color I work so hard to drag myself in for every six weeks.

I wear contacts. Because it turns out middle age, with a little extra push from chemo, left me blind. I pretended I wasn't blind for a few years and just wore over the counter reader glasses for when I really "needed" them. The problem being I really "needed" them every minute I was awake. And because I was exhausted from keeping myself up, and because I had a fear of touching my eyeballs, I was just going to continue wearing the glasses and ignore that I didn't care for how they looked on me. So I wore them in my school picture one year. For those of you adults who do not go through the torture of taking the school photo after 18...it is awful. A terribly mean spirited torture involving cameras that left no one looking good at age ten, let alone in your 40's. It was a terrible shock to have the school picture delivered back to me that year. I left school at 2:15 and went straight to the eye doctor. Contacts ordered by 4:15.

The latest in my long list of middle age fuckery are my teeth. One tooth is a story of come uppance told in another blog post. The gist of which,  after a long winded humorous retell of karma is, I am currently toothless. At first I wore the flipper with a fake tooth out of vanity. Now, I just go toothless until the permanent tooth is installed (a year long process of ridiculousness that I am almost done with). Nothing says, "I am trying to keep up with middle age fuckery" like walking around town looking like a meth addict.The remaining teeth now stain more.  Age, coffee drinking and my recently added intake of red wine were working together to make this happen. My hygienist pointed this out to me at our last visit. I promptly told her, "I hear what you are saying about the wine. I will switch to Vodka."

Clothing is complicated as I refuse to get rid of the ten pounds needed to make clothing less complicated. So there is the need to purchase just the right size, in just the right style, that hits me in just the  right spots. I have committed recently to working out. However, work out clothes...exhausting, for all the reasons listed above, but with the added fun of large hand and leg movements.

I have to get my eyebrows waxed, yes, HAVE to...otherwise wiry short gray hairs will pop in and my brows will start to take on the look of Santa. When I go to my waxing place the lady is always disappointed in me. Often I do not make it in for waxing in a timely manner. I wait too long. This leads to muttering under the breath as she says things like, "Why are we waiting so long?" "This is lots to wax off."  She also wants me to wax my whole face. I don't have time for that, so I will say no. She will then question me, "You do not want to be beautiful?" Yes, yes I want to be beautiful!! But I am out of time! And I am broke from my hair care needs and special clothing constraints!

I am only touching the surface. there is so much more. Pedicures used to just be for pretty toes, now there is a dry skin situation. Lotion for my face and eye creams, mandatory not a fun purchase of frivolity. And the list goes on and on and on and....

It's all just a lot. I am trying to breathe through it. I am trying to be graceful in my acceptance of it all. Some days go better than others.