Two Choices, Though Not Both Alike in Dignity

This is much earlier in the day than I normally write. It was a hectic day today. We had church first thing, then a birthday celebration for our resident dinosaur expert. Simultaneously, Bekah was in our town's Independence Day parade.

The parade steps off at 1 PM. The birthday celebration started at 12:30 PM. I had to make a choice about which to attend. I had to drop Bekah off at 12:30, then go station myself at the end of the parade route so that I could pick her up. Our town doesn't normally see that much traffic, so it can get pretty clogged. I have a tried-and-true parking spot, near the end of the parade route but also out-of-the-way. I do everything I can to avoid the festival parking.

I could have left her, stopped by the celebration and then left, but the timing would have been tricky. I would have had to get across town in a relatively short amount of time. I didn't want to risk Bekah getting anxious because I wasn't there immediately at the end of the parade.

Truth be told, I was a teensy bit okay with missing the celebration.

Let me explain.

Our go-to celebration spot is Chuck E. Cheese. We have a wide range of ages to accommodate. Brooklyn, my youngest, is 3-years-old. My nephew, Scott, is 2-years-old. On the other end, Jeremy will be 12 this September. It's tough to find a spot that can appeal to all ages.

Doug had recently traveled to Main Event with Jeremy as part of a NISRA outing. In the past couple of weeks, he made an appeal to my dad to move the celebration. I voted him down. My understanding is that Main Event is geared toward kids that are a little bit older. Brooklyn and Scott would not have had much to do.

I remember Chuck E. Cheese fondly from my youth. There are pictures (actual, printed photos) of me having my birthday party there one year. (I also remember Showbiz Pizza, just so you get a sense of how old I am.)

Because we visit Chuck E. Cheese for everyone's birthday, over the past two or so years, we've been there like eight times. That is, quite frankly, seven times too many.

It is my firm belief that Chuck E. Cheese is the training ground for Vegas. Upon entering, every single one of your senses is immediately assaulted. All the games have noises, and lights. Some vibrate. Most give tickets.

It has occurred to me, as I'm sure it has occurred to every parent who has ever surveyed the prize wall at Chuck E. Cheese, that a trip to the dollar store would be cheaper and quicker. There are non-crappy prizes toward the ceiling, illuminated by lights. I'm surprised that they don't have a track of angels singing on the quarter hour, just to highlight their magnificence.

Let's be frank. If I saved every voucher we ever printed from every time we ever visited for five years, we may have enough tickets to get one of those prizes.

Earning tickets is a fool's errand. There are some games where a modicum of skill is involved, like shooting hoops, playing skee ball or jumping over a lighted circle. The rest *seem* simple and easy to win, but of course are weighted toward the house (or toward the mouse, wink wink).

One of the games is Plinko, of course from the Price is Right. I kid you not, I have spent at least 15 minutes there, feeding tokens in, convinced that I'm just one token away from winning the jackpot.

Even there, the word jackpot would normally evoke elation, but I assure you, it doesn't and it shouldn't. Even if I won 100 tickets, I'd still be relegated to the lowest tier of prize possibilities.

So you enter, and are immediately assaulted on all fronts. After about half an hour, my brain shuts down. I can't carry on a conversation because in addition to the assault on my senses, my kids are running back and forth, dropping off their beloved tickets at the table.

Meanwhile, Brian and I usually tag team Brooklyn duty. She is too little to be left to her own devices. She is also too little to operate any of the games very well. But she's at the age where she *thinks* that she is old enough to do everything on her own. Anyone who offers to help her will be rebuffed. She is a pretty typical 3-year-old, who feels like she is a big girl and can therefore do all the things big girls should be able to do.

Let me assure you, she can't. Brian told me that today's visit was especially exhausting. She kept wanting to play games that were *just* out of her skill set. She wanted to play them as they were intended, but that required a gentle nudge, which she firmly rejected every time Brian tried to offer. So mostly, he followed her around and tried to reason with a 3-year-old. This is also a fool's errand.

Now, the absolute worst part of the entire trip is trying to be judicious in picking out prizes. I will admit, I have held onto several trips' worth of vouchers just to avoid having to haggle over who gets what prize. With four kids, the name of the game is always fairness. I have to try to get everyone the same (or closely similar items). Which means, after being assaulted and having my brain shut down, I have to sit and calculate how many tickets we have and how those tickets can be divided by four. Then, I have to look at the crappy prizes (which, as you recall, are almost all cheaper at the dollar store) and decide how I can get four sets of crappy prizes that are similar enough.

I'm tired just recounting the whole procedure.

Normally, by the end of the visit, I just want to get out of there. I want to breathe fresh air, listen to the birds chirp and close my eyes. It seriously becomes like a military exercise, trying to get the six of us, all of our presents (remember, we are celebrating someone's birthday), the leftover pizza, cupcakes, etc., out of the restaurant and into the van.

It makes me incredibly grateful that we only visit there four times a year (Scotty and Brooklyn's birthdays are close in proximity, so we combine their celebrations for now). Sometimes, the kids will come across the play cards (little credit cards that they swipe at every machine) and say, "mom, maybe we could go to Chuck E. Cheese!"

I typically use one of their well-worn strategies and pretend I don't hear them. It doesn't always work, so I go to the next tier of dismissal--"we'll see." (As Jeremy pointed out to Doug one time, "the good news is, mommy didn't say no. The bad news is she didn't say yes, either.") That phrase is the universal sign of "please lose interest in that idea so we don't have to do it, ever."

All of that being said, I know that the kids enjoy it. I am glad that my parents are generous enough to be able to provide the experience. I'm also glad that my kids still want to participate in things like that, with their parents around. I know the time is fast-approaching where they will ask to be dropped off at the roller rink. (I also am kind of looking forward to that, but I'm trying to not wish my time away.)

Also, you can see why I chose to stand in the blazing hot sun.

I'll Get Straight to the Point

I have spent all day mulling about what I should write. I wish I could say I arrived at an epiphany, but I haven't.

I have a lot of things swirling around in my head. A lot of them aren't remotely positive or uplifting. I have long subscribed to the idea that restraint of tongue and pen is a surefire way to keep one's nose out of trouble.

I will continue mulling. Hopefully, by tomorrow, the storm clouds in my head will have passed. I am hoping to have something far more constructive to say by this time tomorrow night.

A Movie Review and Fangirling for the Beatles

I made it to bedtime last night. I had a funny encounter with, who else, Doug. I was set up in bed with a book and a mindless movie on. He tried to bargain for having a sleepover in our room. I told him it wasn't a good idea because he had school today.

He walked out of the room, whining a bit (kind of a fake crying). Then he walked back in, pleading his case some more. I sent him away again. He came back and announced to me that I was, and I quote, "breaking his 7-year-old heart. You should be ashamed of yourself."

I couldn't even disguise the laughter as I texted Brian what he said. Sometimes I am able to keep a straight face, but last night I couldn't even muster it.

I swear the man has a cadre of writers working tirelessly somewhere. I don't know where he comes up with these things.

Today I had a rare treat. I got to see a movie with my dad. It's very seldom that he and I get to do things on our own. I usually have at least one child with me, or I'm needed somewhere, or I have to drop a kid off somewhere. I love my dad, as I have stated on numerous occasions. He and I have a number of common interests. (As it happens, we also have an uncanny knack to lose our keys. I currently have no idea where mine are. I even resorted to straightening the kitchen counters. No luck.)

There is a movie out right now called Yesterday. It's a British film. The premise is that the main character, a struggling musician, is struck by a bus during a freak global blackout. When he comes to, he realizes that there has been a selective deletion of things. For example, there is no more Coca Cola. He asks his mom for a Coca Cola and she doesn't know what he is talking about. (He uses Google to search for things, this is how he finds out that they have never existed.)

At a small gathering of his friends after his accident, his friend (and eventual love interest) Ellie (played by the radiant Lily James) gives him a guitar to replace the one destroyed in his accident. They ask him to play a song. He chooses to play the song Yesterday, by the Beatles.

When he is done, they are blown away. They compliment him on his songwriting prowess. He believes them to be giving him a hard time. He gives credit to the Beatles. His friends look at him with blank faces. "Like the bugs?" his one friend asks.

Upon arriving home, he googles the Beatles only to find not one single reference to the band. The only reference he can find is to the bug.

It seems like a silly premise, but I loved every minute.

I started listening to the Beatles when I was about 11 or 12, on the insistence of my dad. He gave me an education, starting with With the Beatles and all the way through The White Album.

I saw Paul McCartney in concert once, before kids. I remembered seeing the Beatles on Ed Sullivan. When I saw the girls in the audience, it prompted eye rolls. I thought the Beatles were nifty, but I felt like their reaction was over-the-top.

I remember, though, seeing Paul McCartney come out on stage. Hearing him play the songs I had grown up hearing was a feeling I can't quite describe. I understood, finally, a little of what those girls felt. I was ebullient hearing him sing. I had played Blackbird so many times on rough days. (In fact, when I was in the OR getting prepped for my emergency c-section, I tried to get Brian to play that song for me. He was too flustered to make it happen.)

Hearing Paul McCartney sing it, live, was an amazing experience (even from the nosebleed section).

The movie today highlighted what an extraordinary catalogue of music the Beatles produced. Jack, the main character, kept remembering different songs, though he sometimes struggled to remember all of the lyrics. Every time he played a new song, the crowds went wild for it.

At my wedding, Brian and I walked out of the chapel to All You Need is Love. We had our wedding party dance to Maybe I'm Amazed (while not the Beatles, still a McCartney tune).

The tremendous thing is the staying power of the Beatles' music. It holds up, even after all these years. There are lots of universal themes in what they wrote. Hey, Jude remains one of my most favorite. At the end of the movie, they played Hey, Jude as the credits rolled. I was sitting next to a total stranger (my dad was sitting in the row ahead of me) and we sang the entire song together. I know all the lyrics.

Brian and I went to see American English perform last year at the performing arts center in downtown Crystal Lake. I was probably about 15-20 years younger than the average age, but I knew all the lyrics to the songs. The range of ages in the audience was diverse.

Toward the end of the movie, two random people show up at one of Jack's concerts. They tell him that they, too, remember the Beatles. The woman presses a piece of paper into Jack's hand and tells him that she did some digging.

There is a cameo in the movie that also caused me to start crying. I won't divulge it, but suffice it to say, the casting and/or makeup was so spot-on it was eery. Even as I described it to Brian when I got home, I got chills.

I drove home from the movie playing Hey, Jude and All You Need is Love. I love listening to Lady Madonna when I'm feeling particularly motherly and also rushed. I Will, a little gem toward the end of the first part of the White Album, never ceases to put a smile on my face. Any time I stay in a hotel, I look for the requisite Bible and start humming Rocky Raccoon.

I am not sure why I got so emotional as I was watching the movie, except we've been over this--I'm an emotional being. Hearing the songs in that setting was emotional.

It's funny because every time a new boy band explodes onto the scene, reporters want to draw parallels to the Beatles and Beatlemania. This happened for New Kids on the Block, Backstreet Boys, and I've seen it happening now for BTS.

I always shake my head when they try to compare anyone to the Beatles. In my mind, anyone else pales in comparison. Now I feel like I need to expose my kids to their music, so someday *they* can shake their head when someone tries to make a comparison.

Seeking Independence

The other night, I didn't know what I was going to write. Tonight, I know what I'm going to write and I don't really want to.

The past couple of days, I've been very busy with dog walks. This is a good thing for which I am really grateful. It's also done a good job of keeping me distracted.

I took a walk last night at a time I normally don't take walks. I explained last night, in a rambling way, that I work very hard to protect my bedtime. I operate better when I get a prescribed number of hours of sleep.

When my sleep suffers, my mood stuffers. I tend to start to droop, like a plant that's not been watered enough. Normally, a good nights' sleep will help me perk back up. I'm hoping that's the case here. I am hoping that I wake up tomorrow morning with more pep in my step.

It's hard to droop at any point, but especially on a holiday. I've purposely kept off FB today. Holidays are different when you are struggling financially or have kids with special needs.

For us, fireworks are problematic. In addition to being loud and having to endure throngs of people, both of which are unpleasant for my boys, they take place outside. My boys have a tremendous phobia about bugs. (I honestly can't blame them and feel like it's not so much a phobia as an understanding about how gross and unpredictable bugs can be.) We are really a resort family, despite much encouraging from people about how wonderful and inexpensive camping can be.

When you are a resort family but there aren't funds available for a resort, you find cheap, local things to do. Hence our frequent visits to the public library, parks and other amenities maintained by the city of Crystal Lake.

We also don't really do overt patriotism. We don't have matching patriotic outfits, we honestly have taken maybe one or two family photos over the past dozen or so years. I avoid FB because holidays seem to mean an uptick in the number of highly-coordinated, posed portraits of familial joy. I won't lie, I am envious of those families.

I also mourn because we just don't have that family. We don't hang with a lot of people as a family. I think part of that is our size--trying to hang out with a family of four kids takes up a lot of space. It can be very loud. Not everyone is willing or able to accommodate us. I totally get it and am not begrudging a lack of invitations.

I'm going to say that again.

I am not whining about not being invited places or not being included. I am, quite frankly, grateful when we are excluded because it stresses me out having to take the boys places. We have two parties coming up with really the only two families with whom we gel well. That is just fine with me.

That doesn't mean that it's easy for me to scroll FB during holidays and not mourn a little that our family isn't like others. I think it's easy when one is droopy to scroll FB and get even droopier.

So I've kept myself busy today, with crocheting and reading and playing Wizards Unite. I had two dog walks. I hit my step goal.

I ate some things that I don't normally eat. Part of it was for comfort, part of it was because between yesterday and today, the heat has been oppressive and I needed the salt.

I hope someday I can celebrate my independence (see what I did there) from these expectations I put on myself about how the holidays *should* look. I know the people that care about me and my family are not judging me. Those that are, they are in luck. We live in a free country, where people are allowed to think as they please.

This year, we are going to try the fireworks. We are able to watch them from a relative distance, which minimizes both the noise and the crowds. It gives us a way to make a fast exit in case things get hairy. I can guarantee that there will be discord and discontent, both about the bugs, the heat, the proximity of one sibling to another, the list stretches on.

I would write more, but Doug has just informed me that Jeremy broke the protective shield (after more investigation, he means the curtains) in my room. I'm positive it's not going to improve my mood, but the silver lining is that bedtime looms near.

Ramble On

It has been a very long day today. I was up at 6:30 and didn’t stop moving until about 5 or 6 PM. 

I started off with one Wag! walk today. By 2, I had walked 5 dogs. I am sitting on a patio with today’s final client, Floyd the French Bulldog. I have been advised to keep my petting interactions short, as he can be a bit unpredictable around new people. 

I made an appointment with a friend for coffee. We both joked that we considered cancelling, which is really the mark of true friendship—neither of us really wanted to be in regular clothes out in public, but we made an exception for each other. 

More and more, 7:30 PM is late for me. I used to stay up pretty regularly until 1 or 2 AM. That was the norm more than it was an exception. I struggled with sleep apnea for years (unbeknownst to me). It meant I never really got restorative sleep. I would fall asleep just sitting on the couch. I would fall asleep driving. I’m not exaggerating, when I was pregnant with Brooklyn, I had to go to Park Ridge for a Level II ultrasound. Brian had to take me. I was not confident to make the 45-minute drive without nodding off behind the wheel. It was actually very scary to drive any more than 20 minutes away—I literally could not keep my eyes open. 

It’s been two years since I was fitted with a bipap machine. The structure of my throat, according to my pulmonologist, is not great. It’s likely I’ve had sleep apnea for years and just didn’t realize it. 

I was musing the other day about how different my life would’ve been had I received a diagnosis decades ago. I struggled in high school, as most kids do, to get up in the morning. Part of me wonders if that really was out of my control, if I was asking my body to do something it just wasn’t capable of doing. 

I feel like I missed a lot of life because I napped so much. It may or may not have contributed to my depression. It may or may not have contributed to my weight gain. 

In any case, the life I lead now means I am in bed by about 10 (if not sooner) and asleep before 11. I make plans based on how soon I can be in my pajamas, sitting on my couch. I used to close down parties. Now I’m typically one of the first to leave. 

My kids are early risers, with the exception of Doug (to no one’s surprise). By the grace of God, they are old enough now to fend for themselves in the mornings. When I get downstairs, the older two have already made themselves breakfast (usually waffles in the toaster). 

I don’t exactly know where I’m going with this, I’ll be honest. I was sweaty for about 80% of the day. Not a glistening sweat on the forehead, either. A full-on, sweat dripping down my back. The humidity here has been through the roof the past few days. The dogs I’ve been walking haven’t been too keen on staying out in it, either. It’s the same problem I had when it got crazy cold in the winter. 

I didn’t drink enough water because then I have to go to the bathroom. In most cases, I will use the restroom at the dog’s house. There’s always the chance, though, that the owner is home. Then I have to gauge how badly I need to go. I was so self-conscious today about how I looked and smelled. I didn’t feel okay going into someone’s house smelling worse than their dog. 

I also didn’t eat very well today. 11-2 is prime time for dog walking. At 1:45, I wolfed down two hard boiled eggs and drank some cold water. I ate dinner at 6:30. I am more tired than hungry right now. Tomorrow, I have no walks scheduled. That may change, but my hope is that I can eat lunch at a normal time of day. When I don’t eat, I get really squirrelly. And irritable. 

Again, I feel like all I’ve done is rambled today. I’m going to chalk it up to prolonged heat exposure. I am looking forward to getting a little more sleep and rest tomorrow. 

Terrific Tuesday

I really don't want to write tonight.

There has been a cluster of storms passing through over the last couple of days. It has wreaked havoc on my head.

I woke up early this morning. On purpose. I'm not one to do that normally. I was hoping to get a walk done before the day started.

I didn't have any dog walks lined up when I woke up. By the time the day was over, I had walked four dogs (two at one time, then two other dogs on their own). I had a job lined up for this week, but it fell through.

I hadn't already committed the earnings anywhere. I've learned the hard way, over the years, that I can make plans but I can't plan the outcome. I knew in my heart that the job for later this week was tentative at best.

When it fell through, my natural inclination was to feel discouraged. Luckily, instead of doing that, I started praying. I prayed that God would fill up my schedule for the week. It's been kind of slow in the Wag! app for the past couple of weeks. In addition, any jobs that have come through seem to be snatched quickly.

With that in mind, I tried to keep an eye on the app but not be obsessive. It paid off. I booked some jobs for September for a recurring client. I also lined up a dog sitting for this weekend and some walks over the next couple of days.

I love to walk dogs and am fortunate to be able to earn money doing it. I'm not out looking to make hundreds of dollars a week. That being said, Brian being unemployed sure can be a kick in the pants to get out there and take more jobs.

I walked 18,000 steps today. I was mildly surprised that the two workouts I did yesterday didn't leave me feeling incapacitated. I was sore (more so when I try standing up than sitting down).

It continues to be muggy beyond comfort here. I am trying to keep up with the daily walks, but it is like walking with a hot, wet towel over my face.

I am beyond grateful for all of the free places to go to cool off in Crystal Lake. We stayed out of the pool today because it was a very busy day, but I'm hoping we'll be able to swim tomorrow and also visit Three Oaks in the evening.

I started another shawl, which I am enjoying. I am on my fourth book in a week. I still need to figure some other things out, but I feel like overall, I am headed in the right direction.

Never Miss a Monday

I want to start by saying that I'm still compiling a list of questions for my upcoming interviews. I'm probably overthinking it, as I am wont to do. I am hoping to have the first interview done by mid-July.

It is 8 PM right now and I am workout dumb. I worked out twice today, once with my trainer and then later I did a cardio kickboxing class. (Or, as Doug likes to call it, my fight. I think he legitimately believes I go to actually fight with people.)

I feel amazing. There is something that activates in me when I workout very intensely. I have done a good job lately of hitting my step goal (to be fair, there is much to be said for people overstating the importance of simply hitting an arbitrary number of steps every day). I have not, however, done a good job of increasing the intensity of my workouts.

In my area, a lot of people do workouts with Beachbody on Demand. I have yet to take the plunge and subscribe to the service. I don't have a dedicated spot to work out (aside from in front of my TV, which involves a fair amount of straightening up). I don't have a lot of equipment, though I've been adding to my arsenal a bit at a time.

I like having someone plan the workout for me. I like having someone cheer me on. I'm not normally one for group classes, but this cardio kickboxing class is small and intimate. The instructor, my friend Kate, is not too over-the-top with her enthusiasm. I've known her for a long time and she's my kind of dark and twisty.

I also managed to finish the first shawl today. It came out really well, I am quite pleased with it. I am itching to get started on the second one and will do so after I post this.

I talked with friends today about getting into action, about doing the things that I know I need to do, even if I don't want to do them. Our brains are magnificent organisms, but they like efficiency. It's good for a number of reasons to try and learn new things. Every time we have to learn a new skill, it's like a workout for our brains. It ends up creating new neural pathways.

It's also why it's so tough for us to break bad habits and implement good ones. Our brains ultimately want to follow the path of least resistance. It's easier to sit on the couch and binge-watch the new hit show on Netflix. It's easier not to get up a little earlier and have more focus. It's easier to eat a second helping than to drink some extra water.

In any case, I'm hoping that upping the intensity in my workouts will help with a bevy of things.

I am continuing to enjoy a joyful spirit. Again, I don't know why. It would appear, to the untrained eye, that things are still in disarray and joy should be fleeting. I'm not going to poke the bear and wonder why; I'm just going to continue to ride the wave.