Tag: family

family

The Busy Week

2chicksandapen

It’s Monday night. A long day at the office already. It seems like it should be Friday but the week has just begun. The busy week. As if every week isn’t already busy, this one is extra busy.

Three games for the teenager. 5 days of carpool or riding in circles as I call it. Work. Consulting. Research. Taxes. Oh how the list goes on and on. I wouldn’t be happy sitting idle but a breath of fresh air is good for the soul. As the workday ends, I go into the Monday mist.

As the sun sets the air becomes chillier. The rainy mist on this Monday made it just a bit cooler outside than I like. I was off to game one for the teen this week. I didn’t mind at all. A good break from the crazy. A chance to catch up with and socialize with other families. Just a night in the community with good people.

What makes my evening special is I get to watch and observe my youngest hit the field in a sport she loves to play with some of her favorite pals. Sometimes even playing against pals from across town. The big stage. High school varsity sports. Which at her age is a big life experience. I enjoy being her biggest fan.

I watch her run. I may giggle when she falls. I silently smile when she makes a big play. I celebrate her without looking all crazy in the stands. For a teen it’s not really cool to have that mom who stands out in the stadium. It’s better to just be in the stands, present. Sometimes the silence is what’s needed. No directions just support. I love to be her support in the stands. A security blanket of sorts for the times she gives the stands a glance, if at all.

I have already watched her evolve. I’ve watched her conquer fears. I watch her handle adversity and difficult situations. I watched her smile and cheer on her team. I see her potential. I am super proud of her.

She has talent.

She has guts.

She has strength.

She has fun.

The season has just begun but she is growing through her experiences. She is adapting to whatever is thrown at her. She is training consistently and her efforts are paying dividends. I can’t wait to see where she pushes herself in the years ahead.

I will be watching. I will be cheering. I will be celebrating her. Oh how thankful I am that she can enjoy this season in the midst of pandemic life. One game down for this busy week. Two more to go.

I am and always be her #1 fan. I am always ready for the next game. 

#fangirl

family

Mystery Envelope

2chicksandapen

A self-addressed stamped envelope on the kitchen table. (Who even does that anymore?) My own handwriting. A return address sticker with a name I didn’t know. Confusion.

Opened the envelope to find a letter and some photos. A pile of very old and very unexpected memories.

It was her very first plane ride. A whiplash trip to Naples, Florida. Me and my little baby.

Took the 8am flight out, the 8pm flight back. Nothing but a car carrier, diaper bag, formula, a ton of diapers, my little front baby pouch, and some food. Her Great Grandma was nearing the end of life, and I wanted them to meet each other before Great Grandma passed away.

We took a shuttle straight to the nursing home. Met her Great Grandma during recreation time. She sat in her wheelchair. My little Anne, still wobbly on her feet, reached up for her. Great Grandma was deep into dementia by then. I’m sure she didn’t know me, she didn’t know Anne. But still, even through the fog and confusion, Great Grandma’s face lit up. A sweet little baby, soft and curious, reaching up to be held. Their smiles echoed each other’s – wide and cheerful.

We spent a couple of hours. Just talking about nothing in particular. Great Grandma hadn’t been my family for very long. She was my Grandpa’s fourth wife. He had been her third husband. He passed away first, leaving my little known new Grandma to handle his affairs. This wasn’t an easy process, but my Dad loved and accepted her because she had been his Dad’s choice. He still called her every week. But she hardly knew me. I hardly knew her. There was just a lot of smiling and playing with the baby.

We flew home. I wrote her a letter and sent her photos of the visit. As I wrote in the letter, I knew she didn’t have much use for clutter in her tiny single room. So I sent a self-addressed stamped envelope in case she wanted to return them.

Fifteen years later, 2021, the envelope, the photos, appear in my mailbox. My sweet baby in the photos now drives her own car. Still has the blond hair, but she’s five foot nine. She still reaches up. She still smiles, and brings smiles to many.

A letter from her daughter came with it. She had just found the photos, with my letter and envelope, in a long packed away box of photos and keepsakes. Obviously Great Grandma wanted to keep them, she wrote. What can you do but wistfully smile at fate and memory and times long gone?

I got to share the story with Anne, and the pictures. Shortly after that visit, I learned that those were the very last photos ever taken of Great Grandma. Her own children appreciated them, and cherished that we took the time to visit.

Across fifteen years, a whisper from a daughter I may have met once. A memory of an experience that mattered, even if Great Grandma and Anne wouldn’t have known it at the time.

When I think about it, it was kind of crazy. Take a baby on a plane? By myself? Twice in one day? Just to see someone who probably won’t recognize me? Who may not even know why we are there? Yup, I did that. I’m still that kind of crazy. The kind of crazy that will drive hours out of my way for a hug. That will go over and above just to do something little. The little things are the big things.

Take time for people. Take time to write. To chronicle and share. To connect and care.

dare to be different

Thursday

2chicksandapen

Today is Thursday. I made it to Thursday. My week has been a shit storm of this, that, the other and then some. It’s like the shit was smeared across my bathroom mirror, the car window, the computer screen, the kitchen table, you name it.

I guess you get the picture I have painted. Now I’m not thirsty or I would be taking advantage of it being Thirsty Thursday. Instead I’m opting for some time in my thinking chair. Feet kicked up. Faithful dog by my side while I listen to traffic pass by in the nearby street.

I think about those cars rushing to their next destination. Hustle, bustle, and hustle some more. It’s the grind we live. For me I’m pausing in the space between activities, work and life to catch my breath. A deep breath. It’s been a hell of a week and it’s just Thursday!

This is where the self talk comes in. One day left. Another 8-10 hours of petty bullshit. I got it. I already went through the thick and gooey shit. The end of the week should be a breeze. Get after it. Make Friday your day. Slay and put all that shit in the shitter where it belongs.

This weekend I will focus on recharging. Resetting my mind. Re-engaging with my social circle. Relaxing in a new environment. I will even make it a point to eat or drink something new to step out of my comfort zone. It doesn’t matter if I don’t like it. It matters that I push my limits while recharging. It’s part of the process of reawakening oneself.

Have you ever had a day, a week or any amount of time that life just seemed to get sucked out of you? Everyone needing your time, your attention, your emotional energy causing you to be tired and ready to just shut down. That about sums up my last couple days. 

I made it to today. This fine hour where I could be doing a lot of other stuff but I chose me. I chose correctly. If I don’t take care of me, I will never have what it takes to support those around me who need me. The ones that I lead when they question their path. The ones who need a gentle nudge. Even the ones who need a firm push.

I matter just like you matter. Look in the mirror each day and smile. Reflect on why you matter. Embrace it. You make the world better. One step at a time.

For my Friday wish, I wish for whomever reading this to be content with who they are today. Not who they were in the past and not who they will be in the future. Just who they are today. The me of today matters the most. Live life to the fullest.

challenges, fitness and nutrition

The Open

2chicksandapen

This is year #5 for me in The CrossFit Open. Pretty crazy for me to look back and reflect on where I started in the sport I love to where I am today. So many memories. So many relationships built. So many milestones hit. So many adventures. All part of my athlete journey.

A couple months ago the Open didn’t seem like something I would participate this year. It seemed like another disappointment with all the Corona cancellations around my athletic competitions. Then I paused for a minute. I slowed down to appreciate where I’ve been, where to want to get to, and how much I like data. The Open is a data point for me. An accountability pinpoint in time.

Maybe I weigh more this year. Maybe I lift less weight. Maybe I’m not counting my macros right now. Maybe I’m at a different gym. The variables shouldn’t matter. It’s Me vs. Me in the Open. 2021 is a recovery year for me. A rebuild of the foundation that got some cracks in 2020. I’m looking to see how deep the cracks are or how superficial they are. The only way I will know is to push my limits and see how I fare. The Open will help me gauge my comeback results of 2021.

As I look back at some pictures from the 2020 Open, I see some faces have faded in my gym world. As I look back to 2019, I see where some new friendships blossomed and each and every one of them is still intact. A group of strong females between 45-55 years old grinding away. Daily, weekly, monthly we almost in the work. Why not celebrate our commitment, consistency, and courage in the Open? 

2018 and 2017 were a bit of a blur for me as I didn’t do as good of a job documenting all my ups / downs but that’s where the leaderboard comes in. I can see where I stacked up to others worldwide. I can see how far I have come. As I write in this blog I may inspire another to sign up for the open. Or maybe sign up for a gym membership. 

This year I have a job to sign up two newbies to CrossFit to attempt the Open: one in their teens. One in their twenties. Both have journeys in their infancy. I’m looking forward to watching them shine in their own special way. Motivate. Inspire. Repeat. 

I have hope that when I write about my fitness highs, lows and everything in between that I have an audience. The audience may change from year to year and that’s okay by me. I love to inspire all ages. All types of people. The more I impact the more I write. The more I challenge myself to do more year over year.

Thank you for being part of my fitness journey. I’m on the road to fab at 50. You have a front road seat in the journey. You will see my fitness. My friends. My family. My competition. My exhaustion. My will. My pride. My ego. My personality. My triumph. 

Bringing my best: March 2021

Why not join me? The Open is open to all ages and this year you can even compete at home. Options are available to test your fitness.

perspective

$&7%# is all she wrote…

2chicksandapen

I made it through Saturday.

Then Sunday came along and I learned a few words. Observed my couch getting a beat down. I listened to hootin and hollering more than I care to reflect on.

Now it’s Monday. Same shit different day.

False start!

No foul.

Out of bounds, you ass!

Block in the back.

You suck!

Why isn’t the whistle blowing.

Take the time out.

YES!

Quiet for a few minutes. Maybe it’s half time? 

Friggin’ safety sucks. 

Are you kidding.

Whistle blows repeatedly.

Offsides.

Whistle blows.

False start.

It’s going to #6 be ready! said spectator.

Get out of bounds!

Spike it!

Ooooh.

Good job.

Jesus friggin’ Christ.

This is bullshit.

He got pushed!

He got pushed.

Over and over.

Watch the recap.

No penalty. 

Penalty declined.

Oh, what on earth could I possibly be writing about? Damn football. College football. NFL football. Monday Night Football. It’s all the same to me. A shit show on steroids.
Unfiltered chaos. Overwhelming negativity.

A big fat distraction at bedtime. An annoyance on the weekend. A time suck. An unnecessary event that includes rage, celebration, sportsmanship, and so much more. Why do people get so hyped up that they talk to the TV? Do they think the referee can hear them? Is a game really that personal? So crazy to me.

Is there a healthy level of watching football that doesn’t seem like it will cause a heart attack? Am I the only one that experiences this? I took a poll and apparently I’m not.

I don’t need to go to a bar for this kind a of people watching. I can be in my own house. I can go to a friend’s house where the guys are watching a game in the man cave. Sometimes it’s even a coed event and/or spectacle.

It’s hard to do your homework. It’s hard to pay your bills. It’s hard to have a phone conversation when others are acting like 2-year-olds having a tantrum because they didn’t get a sucker or toy at the store. 

How does one sum up this behavior? What does it do for our kids who are watching silently? Will this aggression spill over to a youth football game? Is there any logic in this chaos? Should one be able to control their emotions in the moment? This doesn’t even include alcohol which would only intensify the crazy.

Is there another equivalent to football in America that causes so much raw emotion amongst its spectators? Maybe a heavy metal concert. A violent hockey game? Just not sure.

I’m sure there is another side of football I can’t see at the moment because my judgment is clouded with all the noise and disturbance around me. Either way I found it fitting to jot down my environment during this insanity.  I thought somebody make get a chuckle out of it.

Are you a football fan?

Can you keep your behavior in check?

Are you an athlete?

I will invest in some headphones during football season to stay sane. At one point I thought a finger might have been severed with all the curse words I heard. Guess no cause for alarm. It’s just football.

Oh damn it’s just half time now! I need to get headphones now.