friendship

The Mud Bowl

It was planned for a Saturday weeks in advance. A kickball game for a very special friend’s birthday. An outdoor picnic and just fun for all. 

The weather had other plans. 2 days of torrential rain. Mud puddles everywhere but a break in the rain drops just as the party begins. Many opt not to show. Some opt to wear boots. Others opt to watch. The die hard thrill seekers show up ready to play. In the end the birthday girl was happy to have a muddy game and time with friends which is all that mattered.

This was an adventure nobody planned but a fun one at that. All ages played from kids to adults. Some more competitive than others. An orange glow was among everyone’s hands and feet that ventured onto the playing field. Break time was called about mid way through the event. A time out of sorts that should have promoted good sportsmanship.

Time for cake and munchies. Maybe a little conversation. Nope not for this group. The cake eating turned into a cake fight on a whim. Blue frosting and red frosting smeared across faces, in ears, on clothing, and so on. For those who didn’t get caked, they either ran for hiding or just left. It was a sight to see. Some ran faster than I’ve ever seen. 

Then there was the washroom experience. This is where everyone washed the cake smashes off of each other as most were covered pretty good. The recovery was quick and back to the game play we went.

A few took nose dives into the mud. One down the first base line. This was extra funny as he only joined the games in the second half as it looked drier! Another laid flat out on his back with a foul kick. He said getting old did him in on that one.

Of course we didn’t catch them on camera. Some completely missed the ball they attempted to kick. Others just watched or played umpire. Or took selfies of themselves on the phone that was left out….

There might have even been a dancer on the side lines performing a show to the music that was playing. It was about 3 hours of chaos, commraderie, fun, giggles, tears of joy, screams and so much more.

It’s great to be outside again. Among friends. Playing. Enjoying company and activities without so many rules. Spring 2021 is already better than spring 2020.

Kickball, dodgeball, softball, I live to play them all. I love them even more when I get to share the experience with friends or makeshift teammates.

challenges

A New Wall

I hit a new wall today. A mentally exhausting wall. One I didn’t initially bounce off and spring ahead like normal.

This wall was different. It started out as me being tired. Then it shifted to me being irritable. Then technology flipped a few switches that set me off kilter.

Moving on to mid-day a teenager rattled my cage. Then the rain hit. All the while work was super busy. It’s the end of the month. The end of the fiscal year. Emergencies by phone and mail.

I wanted to dish out numbers like they do at the meat counter but that’s not reality. It all needs to get done. You need to be four places at one time. It doesn’t matter if it’s pouring rain let alone if you are tired. 

When you are in the hot seat. The driver’s seat. The most relied upon seat, nothing matters. You are just expected to balance it all. But what happens when you hit the wall and don’t bounce back?

For some it may take one into a dark place in mind and body. Luckily for me I have some friends who can crack me up during the day with a funny text to lighten the load. I have some go-to gals who can be a listening ear when I want to punch everyone.

And then I can always change my scenery. For me, today I took a car ride. Got a coffee. Drank it away from people. Talked to a friend by phone. Took some deep breaths. Ordered dinner to-go. Planned an early bedtime to mentally let my brain rest.

I took to writing. This blog of course. Writing is a therapeutic outlet for me for many reasons but sharing stories of walls is important for people to read. It’s life. It’s real. It’s not filtered. There are no amazing pictures.

My wall is the beginning of what may be a long road of walls. It’s midlife womanly adjustments. The yucky m word. The one you want to be over so your cycle is history but the one you dread because of its uncertainty.

Let me just type the damn word. Menopause. Menopausal. Resident psycho to some. Bitch to others. I’m sure I’m missing a few descriptions but owning the word and its side effects is step one. One of God only knows how many steps.

Pray for me. Think of me. Lift me up in spirits if you see me against the wall. Plastered to the wall. Mentioning the wall. Or anything resembled the wall symptoms. Baggy eyes. Disheveled look. Short fuse.

The worst thing you can do is ignore my hot mess as that will make me want to isolate you. As a giver and doer I help many. Unfortunately many won’t see that need for help. That struggle at that damn wall. 

Is there a magic tea for menopause? And why the hell is the word “men” embedded in the word itself. That is just crazy because they are clueless when it comes to dealing with a menopausal woman. Just sayin’.

mEn-oh-PAuse: your lady friend is about to go batshit crazy. Clear the fuck out now. Don’t pause. Run. Hide. It’s safer that way.
If the DICtionary doesn’t say that it really should. Fun fact!