Leaving a Mark

A few nights ago I stumbled out of my high-waisted jeans, apparently unable to lift my right knee high enough to extricate that leg from pants. Dancing around on my left foot, I finally toppled over and caught myself with my left hand, leaving a nighttime application, anti-aging, avocado-oil handprint on the cold tile.  Rob called from the other room, "Are you OK in there?"

I looked down at the handprint and felt a wave of hysterical laughter rise - alongside a sinking feeling of loss. Insert hysterically laughing/crying emoji here. A strangled response emerged, "Yep. just fine. I couldn't get out of my jeans, but I will recover."

Later that night I slept too hard on my left side and temporarily pinched a nerve behind my shoulder blade, rendering me incapable of turning my head in either direction.  Injured while sleeping - a common occurrence. I've suddenly lost my smooth neck, gained a million more freckles and gray hairs, and now require pillows to box me in on both sides at night to prevent shoulder injury.

The years have left a few marks on me, even as my smile lines (and magical photo frame) note that most of those marks have been happy. The impacts are accelerating, too, just like the days and months that whirl by (how is it already March?)

Our house also records history - different notes from the different family members. Black grease marks in the master bedroom wall from the years Rob had an elliptical machine up there, current Peloton towels, fans and sweat marks on the bike.  A broken stair-rail pillar from Daniel's hasty grab as he whirled down the stairs, hallway art from Aden's prolific period. Senior photos, William's bedroom holding his trophies and occasional closet resources for Daniel. The cats, too, share their marks; cat hair drifting into the corners, claw marks down the leather couch.

After almost twenty years in the house it's time to re-paint, re-finish the wood floors, update the kitchen. I'm sometimes excited by the possibilities and sometimes reluctant to contemplate the loss of our visual history. The same principle goes for my face... sometimes I want to investigate youthful promises of various skin care professionals, start wearing makeup again, use eyebrow serum, etc. But then I waver, detained by either exhaustion or resignation. This is who I am, and I'm grateful for the life I've lived.

But I may sit down before taking off the next pair of high-waisted jeans.

The Month of Problem-Solving

June was a month of problem-solving. After celebrating Aden's college graduation with beloved visitors and a family trip in May, we crashed to earth in the first month of summer. From stains and smells to flooded basement bedrooms to a not-so-sneaky teenager leaving the house at all hours, parents' heads spun 'round and exhaustion crept in at the cellular level.

We try to teach the children how to solve problems, how to grit teeth and shoulder in, taking deep breaths and pushing through rather than sitting on the couch and giving in to a good wail. The boys helped us move furniture, rip out wet carpet and carpet pads, and carry everything away so fans could dry the bare concrete. Their involvement helped me keep a stiff upper lip when I wanted to tantrum, buoyed me through a trip to Target for fans and donating trunk loads of stuff we moved and found we didn't need. 

This blog won't go into the teenage craziness, suffice it to say that certain behaviors cannot be repeated or someone will be out on their ear. The tension of parenting older children wears on the nerves as we try to let them go and distance ourselves from their choices (and resulting consequences) while still recognizing when a firm voice and rules are required for minors. We are older and wiser now then when we started this parenting journey, but also way more tired. 

With the solstice in our rearview mirror and Colorado drying out from its wettest June ever, my hope is that the road ahead stays mainly smooth for the near-term. We had to replace our air conditioner last month, as well, so we're ready for the high temps that certainly lie in store. I doubt the path will be smooth for long, as life is mainly about confronting challenges, but a few days of laid-back rest and refraining from obstacles wouldn't go amiss. Wishing our readers a happy Fourth!