Hurry Up and Wait

Coming off a weekend camping trip with Sinatra and all our 5 kids, plus one for my Lil Lady to have a friend. We chose Waco, TX which is somewhat in between our two homes, although with Sinatra driving through Dallas traffic he's got the harder and longer leg of it. I am lucky to live on the north side of Austin so I'm heading out of town ahead of Friday afternoon traffic. The weekend started a bit crazy though, and I had some serious discussions with myself on the way to Waco.

I was off at 3pm on Friday so we could get loaded up and out of town no later than 5 to make the drive and be at the campground by 6 or 6:30pm. This gave us all time to set up the camper and get dinner going before dark. I had discussed this with Sinatra 2 weeks ago when we reserved the camp the last time we were in Waco. He even said he'd have to get on the road by no later than 3 to make it through Dallas traffic to meet me by 6. As per usual, I revisited this plan a few times within the past two weeks because I am a planner and have a need to talk out my plans. He's on the phone with me multiple times every day, so it is very probable he was the one I talked to about this plan.

His drive without traffic is close to 2 hrs, mine is only 1hr 15min, but with traffic and pulling the slow camper he's closer to 3 hrs so I told him to call me when he got into his drive so I could time it where we'd meet up at the same time. Got off at 3, went to get the girls from their friends' houses and got home about 4. I began packing up and telling the girls to get their things in the car and texted him what's up? He texted me "we just left", this was 4:15...ugh, running late but ok.

I'll get my stuff done and leave around 5:15. But at 4:45 he tells me they had to stop at Walmart for something to fix on the camper...I didn't know if that meant he was there or had already done that. So I asked. His reply was "on the road now" Mine: "Where?" His: "Lewisville." This is the next town just outside his burgh. Grrr...

So now its almost 5pm and he's just leaving to get into downtown Dallas traffic. Me no happy was putting it mildly. I know he wasn't all that jolly either, but I wasn't being sympathetic. Got the kids back in the house (they were waiting in the car) to cool our heels for another 45 minutes. I truly began to fume after I talked to him and he said he didn't realize I was off work early. What?? I'd only said it multiple times in talking about getting there and setting up camp. Was I talking to myself?

My bigger issue was he didn't listen to me, as in he's only half listening to me on the phone, often because they kids are in the room, he's on the computer or he's at work or driving around doing one of a million things he needs to get done. I didn't take it well to realize he clearly only half hears me when he's on the phone with me.

He's the busiest guy I know who has trouble getting anything done. Organizationally he can be a mess. Too many irons in the fire and only enough man-power to be able to half-do most of them.

I feel for him being single, because I am as well, but I manage with lists and calendars and a mind that handles multi-tasking well. He, notsomuch. I drove to Waco thinking how would I marry someone who will need corralling and nagging to get things done?? I did that already! A man won't change at this point in our lives. Warning, warning, danger, danger! Sirens going off, red flags flying, and I'm sending him to the penalty box.

So after an hour drive with me muttering to myself ("I ain't going to be the one who...I'll just have to do it all my own damnself..."), we got there after 7:30pm. The sweet campgrounds people said they weren't sure we were gonna show up (I bit my lip on that one), and I arrived first by about 10 minutes.

He backed the camper in and got out looking as harried and of course I melted, so we got everything set up in no time. We got the BBQ going and had hot dogs on the pdq. Not to kick a guy while he's down but dinner was thanks to me, since I'd bought the weinies and everything to go with them the day before. He came with very little in the way of groceries...another thing he didn't get to. Ummmm...I see a pattern here. Oh boy.

We barely got fed before the sun went down and then off he went to the store for more stuff for the next night. Really, the enormity of getting the camper ready and then getting his three in the car and through rush hour Dallas traffic should have knocked him out for the weekend.

He was pretty great by my side as we finagled 7 kids (yes, one more was added for the day) to a water park on Saturday. We cooled off in the wave pool (no alcohol, either! Waco is so Baptist-y) while the kids ran around the smallish park. We rode the rides with them too and we all had a great time.

That night back at the camp we were cooking out again. It's a challenge getting our kids to put DOWN the iPod/iPhones and look at the lake, or the birds, or the trees around us. I tried my best to get them out of the AC'd camper and walking around the campgrounds.

His burger meal was tons better-tasting than my dumb ole hot dogs, and he cooked them all over a hot pit in the 95+ degrees without complaint. Maybe I'm the one who needs a-changin'. Hmmmm....

I hope it was a few happy memories for the kids for a lifetime. It was for me, and hopefully for my Sinatra too.

Scattered thoughts from an Overused 40+ Year-Old Mind

In June I will be 42 freakin' years old. I'm okay with the number. My life at 42 is no one else's but my own. Not dependent on anyone and I handle my own shit. Can every 42 year old say that?

I have 2 kids and 2 dogs and 2 bikes, a house, a car, and a yard of my own. I'm a single parent. If the grass grows, I mow it. Well, sometimes I pay the teenager across the street when he wants to make a quick 20. When the house needs cleaned, I clean it. Ok, I make my kids do some of it, but they aren't that great at it. When I'm having a bad day I wallow in it. Alright, I call a meeting of my BFFs and we meet for margaritas or wine. Its better than therapy.

Clearly I am an independent woman, but am not shy about asking for help.

I have a phone with a calendar on it which Google links to a calendar on my laptop or any computer I'm near. I love calendars. I have things scheduled already out to August at this point. I like to know waaaay ahead when something's coming so I can stick in my calendar. It gives me peace of mind to add an appointment. Then I know I have a chance of not forgetting it. I thrive on checking today's date and making sure I've got my ducks in a row for the day. Wow, that sounds a bit sick.

I make lists. On envelopes or post-its or scrap paper. Bills to pay, things to buy, places to be, people to call. Every week a new list. I add the status on my 401K and my mortgage balance and my weight. I throw everything on there. It soothes me. Out of my head and on to paper. Then I really get jazzed when I can cross off stuff...or maybe check it, whatever my mood demands.

I try to stay active and by doing that, I schedule every single minute down to the second with "stuff". Why? When do I rest? 42 ain't no spring chicken! Metabolism is slowing, brain function is getting muddled, skin is drooping, hair is graying. But I'm told I don't look 40+. No matter I'm told that by 75+ year olds, hey, I'll take it anyway. Because my 42 year old brain can't click as quickly as it once did, my calendar alerts keep me from forgetting something important and let someone down. I'm a pleaser and a perfectionist. Not always a good combo. I am not the most organized person either. It looks unorganized to the untrained eye, but my mess is mine and I know where everything is. Or at least what pile its in. Here is a picture of my actual workspace at work...sticky-notes, piles and all:

I know it looks like a scene from the movie A Beautiful Mind but I know where any manufacturer rep's phone number or insurance account number are hanging in the mess. It would make sense to put those stickies on one single computer-typed page. I look at my mess and am sometimes disgusted. I'm sure my office isn't professional-looking. I don't do well with change so in the 12 years I've hibernated in this office daily, this is what I get. The mess isn't going anywhere. It is all I can do to get from one day to the next without forgetting to put on a shirt each morning, so if I'm arriving at work fully dressed, getting my kids and the dogs fed, and moving my ass enough that I don't weigh 200 lbs, I figure I'm doing alright.