The Case of the Missing Eggs

Three adults, one adult-in-training, two dogs and two cats share this 1,000 sq ft space that we call home. It takes a lot of flexibility, compromise, ability to turn the other cheek and 'not sweat the small stuff' as well as a willingness to talk to make this work.

I must admit that owning the title on the mortgage has probably bought me a fair little bit of leeway around the house. I don't think that I wield this power over anyone's head but I do believe in the credo by which I raised my children: "Respect community space and leave it in the state that you found it".

This one simple 'rule' seems to be understood by all (the dogs and cats excluded - they have a horrible habit of leaving hair wherever they may go and don't even let me get started about their 'bathroom facilities') and for the most part, I would say that things run pretty smoothly when everyone simply cleans up after themselves.

It is still tricky because one person doesn't see what another one does when it comes to that-which-is-not-high-priority-to-you. One person's definition of quiet is different than another and the acoustics of the house differ depending on where you spend the majority of your time.

There are many benefits of pooling resources to tending to that-which-needs-to-be-tended. Especially when it comes to yard maintenance. I have reaped many, many benefits as lawn mowing, snow shovelling and cleaning the garage has all but vanished from my eternal to-do-list.

We have unspoken rules when it comes to groceries. Each 'family' takes care of their own food supply and I seem to cover off some of the basics (like milk and margarine, salt and pepper and the like). The benefit of a second grocery supply is that 'the other guy' may have something in stock, which can be utilized in case of emergency.

We all partake in this convenience from time to time and generally the stock is replenished without ever realizing there was a lack. Except once. It was "The Case of the Missing Eggs". The only thing is ... I was the only one in the house who made a case out of something that really didn't matter.

Little things were starting to add up in my mind. Things that didn't matter.

I have found myself living with a handyman. This is a dream come true for me! There is a flip side to all that is good about this.

When one person takes over the reins and putters around with general maintenance (big and small) on a regular basis, there is a tipping point. The point where one feels like they are being taken for granted. The point where they feel they have done what they are willing and capable of doing and there is an underlying expectation or belief that this will continue without end.

The other danger lies in going above and beyond the call of duty, doing your best on a continual basis and then getting the feeling that your best is not good enough.

There are cases where an impartial third party should be hired to take care of that-which-is-beyond-a-handyman-status. If things go wrong, it is nice to be dealing with someone you don't know so that you can question, scrutinize and withhold payment if the job is not what you expected.

We had such a 'case' this past summer. There was a residual feeling of unrest left in its wake. Words that hadn't been spoken. A sense of tension in the air. A little of the walking-on-eggshells kind of feeling.

So when eggs went missing ... I finally said something. I let it be all about the eggs for the moment. I believe that we all recognized that it had little to nothing to do with the eggs, but more to do with the need to clear the air and discuss life-at-hand and get rid of the clutter of unspoken words.

You cannot force a conversation like that. Well, maybe you can. It's called an argument. We don't seem to roll like that within our very full household. We 'complain about missing eggs' and wait.

The conversation came. It was good. The 'head' of each household sat down over a few cups of coffee Saturday morning and tentatively stepped out of the comfort zone of saying nothing ... and said 'something'.

We tested the water and got used to the temperature before we waded in too deep. But it was good. It was very good.

I have been single and independent far longer than I have been a part of any marriage or sustaining relationship. I question my ability to adapt to the idea of ever letting someone into my life because I have become so set in my ways. I was quite proud of the fact that things were going so well, so long after my adult son moved back home.

Then 'this' happened. It happened at the same time I was in the process of finding out their move-out-date has been postponed. I was starting to count down the months ... and then I learned that we still have two or three more seasons to endure. It was 'then' that I realized that maybe forever is never in my future. I can't even live with my son (and his girlfriend and their two dogs) for over five years. What is wrong with me?!?!

Then we cleared the air.

There was no arguing. No harsh words were exchanged. The tones of our voices remained calm, cool and collected. Each of us is more than willing to look at, understand and feel the other guy's side. We resolved an inner conflict simply by sitting down with a cup of coffee on a leisurely Saturday morning.

We are now laughing about the eggs. But I am grateful to have the sensation of walking on eggshells behind me.

The Case of the Missing Eggs was so much more than it appeared. I'm grateful they went missing because it gave us a very safe place to start.

Cat Tales

Our Junior Cat has been part of our family for over four months now. He is here to stay. There has been an interesting Evolution of Friendship between our Senior Cat and his new counterpart.

Junior teaches Senior 'How to Play With an Ear Plug'

At first our Senior Cat was very curious and even seemed to enjoy the new 'toy' that we brought into the house for him to play with.

Then came the "I can't believe he is still here" stage where it appeared that our Senior Cat kept waking up to a bad dream when this New Cat didn't go back to where he came from.

Toleration of the inevitable came next. It was a bitter pill but he swallowed it.

Very close to that same time our Senior Cat developed pneumonia. He started fighting dirty with Junior Cat (which we now see was directly related to not feeling well). Senior Cat was swallowing a lot of bitter pills during this phase.

After weeks of antibiotics, Senior Cat started perking up. It was small things at first. Very brief cat-chases. A short little wrestle. As energy levels resumed, so did the cat play.

Our cats started to develop a rhythm among themselves.

Senior Cat gets first dibs on all of the favorite sleeping spots. Junior Cat has learned that if his superior enjoys a spot, it is with good reason. So he happily takes over the spot that is left vacant.

Junior Cat has learned a lot of wrestling moves (legal and 'illegal' ones - he didn't forget what Senior Cat taught him when he started to get bit on the ears and heels). Junior Cat is starting to test some of those cat-induced boundaries and threatens to fight nasty from time to time to rile things up.

Junior Cat is one sly cat. He has been known to spot Senior Cat sleeping in a coveted spot so he moves in with a few coy 'do you want to wrestle?' moves and after a short scuffle, Junior Cat is sleeping where Senior was just a few short moments ago.

Senior has taught Junior everything he knows. Junior Cat has youth on his side and a cunning, witty little mind that doesn't turn off when his eyes are shut. He is thinking. He is always thinking ...

All of this has progressed and evolved into friendship. There is a quiet enjoyment that Senior Cat gets that reminds me of a crusty old uncle that has been won over by the wiles of a determined young nephew. It is something that is not well advertised but it lies under the surface of a bond that is getting stronger by the day.

Junior Cat is telling Senior Cat about all of the interesting smells in here!

In other related news ...

After over seven weeks of antibiotics, our Senior Cat is slowly becoming 'more of who he used to be' before his bout with pneumonia.

His endurance at cat-chasing and wrestling increases by the day. He has been absolutely loving the freedom that comes with our newly fenced, cat-escape-proof back yard, he has become so much more sociable and endures the love that we have to give him ever so much more than he did a few months ago.

A person simply doesn't see those little things slip away as it happens so gradually. But when they return (even if it is a slightly modified version)? It is a gift.

Majestic in his posture, Senior Cat revels in the great  outdoors

Our favorite Cat Ornament - Senior Cat savors the shade on a hot September day

Snuggled up on His Boy, Senior Cat is back where he wants (and we need for him) to be ...

A Clear Slate

I have been tending to life a little differently this past week. I have been trying to focus on one thing at a time and completing that-which-I-start. I tried to live life without my email program open and closed myself out of Facebook and my blogs. I succeeded on some levels, but not all ...

The clutter is (almost) gone. I have no other Windows or tabs open on the computer as I write this post. No incoming email can distract me at the moment. Do I open my email program on a sporadic and compulsive basis? Sadly, yes. But I'm working on it. The beauty of receiving and sending an email is that it waits until the person on the other end is open to receiving it. The downfall comes in remaining open 24/7. We need to keep appropriate 'business hours' in order for the on-line world to keep intruding on Real Life. I'm working on it. Baby steps.

The kitchen table is (almost) empty. There is not a pile of unread papers or unfinished crossword puzzles. I dealt with last Sunday's paper (and puzzle) before Saturday. That is a start. There is not a pile of paperwork waiting to be dealt with. I've swiped the table clean. Maybe I should cook a meal so that we could eat off of it. Hey! let's not get ridiculous here ... baby steps, remember? Baby steps!

The grocery list was overpowering me this past week. Every time I turned around, I seemed to be adding to the list. I don't like when the list gets too long. It takes too long to shop. It costs too much. It takes too long to unload and unpack. Procrastination, procrastination, procrastination. But the flip side of a long list is that I left the house one night of the week (when I was good and ready), instead of running out several times to break the job into smaller pieces. And ... my Youngest Son was ready, willing and able to accompany me on my mission. Sure, he had an ulterior motive (he wanted to stock up his snack supply for the weekend). But he assisted in loading, unloading and accompanied me on the-task-which-I-had-put-off-all-week. I had company, assistance and two hours is all that it took to get from 'A' to 'B' and complete the job. Two short hours in the whole realm of things? Just enough steps!

My weekly Daycare Chores have been tended to and I am ready to face Monday morning. And it is only Saturday. I deal with Monday ever-so-much-better when I have done all that I can do well in advance of my Daycare Family walking through the doors Monday morning. I am feeling on top of the world because I formally wrapped up last week and prepared myself for the upcoming week in one fell swoop. I feel invincible! One giant step.

I woke up to my alarm this morning and it took several seconds for me to comprehend that it was Saturday. Saturday!! I rolled over and hunkered in for some good, old fashioned rest & relaxation time. Then ... it hit me. I had tended to all of my must-do-items last night. I was waking up to a clean slate. No to-do-lists. Nothing waiting to be done. All deadlines had been met. I was actually ahead of the game! And I leapt out of bed with a force of energy that propelled me into a day that I will accomplish the impossible.

I will work on my Family Book Project today. The slate is clean and I am energized by that fact. I simply cannot wait until I complete this book project because I just know that I will be so energized by that accomplishment that I will be ready to take on the world. Or at least do a better job of living in my present day world.

Work at one thing at a time. Complete that which you start. Tend to the clutter. Shop once (not all week). Prepare for the day ahead. This is the formula that I have been working on all week. And it all added up to this morning. A morning where I am energized by the fact that I have crossed off the must-do-items in my life and I know just where I want (and need) to focus that energy.

I am off. I wish you a productive day. Fill yourself up and you have more of yourself to give ...

Beware of Ill Fitting Shoes

Our pre-nap-time ritual at my house looks something like this:

If you look very closely, you can see my foot and leg squished between the cushion of the couch and all 'my kids' (my other leg is on the floor). Two of the kids sit on me and the third squishes in at the end of the couch. Our Senior Cats loves these cuddlesome moments and you will often find him squished between the cracks of all of our combined bodies and he settles in and soaks up the body heat.

Anyway ... one of these cuddle days consisted of two of the three kids sitting on my lap, without socks. I couldn't help but stare at the perfection of those little toes.

Toes that had not yet been squished into ill-fitting shoes. Toes that had not conformed to a pointed toe shoe. Toes that had not borne the brunt of high heels. Toes that had not run a marathon. These were simple, but happy kid-toes.

I couldn't  help but think of these little bundles of perfection that are born into this world. When they come into our lives, they are little bodies of innocence that have not been expected to conform, fit in, bear the brunt of any life dramas or high expectations. They are perfect in their innocence.

Then life happens. 

We mold them into imperfect human beings and we have high expectations for them to meet. We cajole them to eat and sleep according to what we think is best for them. We dress them up, take them out and expect them to behave in a manner that pleases us. We raise them within our imperfect homes and do our best to bring up 'good citizens' that can take on the world outside of our homes.

Then comes daycare, school, extra-curricular sports and outings, friendships, work, relationships and the list goes on and on. Within each one of these experiences lies the possibility that the 'fit' may not be good. It is human nature to want to be liked and accepted ... so we mold ourselves to fit within uncomfortable people, places and 'things'.

If we are raised within a 'comfortable pair of shoes', we recognize a good fit and that is what we are attracted to and bring into our lives. If our 'shoes' have always been uncomfortable, we don't realize that they were supposed to be comfortable all along.

The perfect beings that we were in the beginning become imperfect. Not because we are not beautiful or smart or successful or un-typical in any way, shape or form. We are not perfect because that is what a human being is. Imperfect. 

When you try to fit into shoes that are not comfortable for you, think of the perfect little toes of small children. Strive to keep those toes comfortable ... in every walk of life.

I am not saying to stop trying on new shoes. Simply beware of those that are still uncomfortable after you give them a fair chance. Perhaps you could try walking barefoot for a while and simply feel your way through.

It is possible to walk comfortably. Even after the damage is done. In fact, one appreciates comfort even more ... after experiencing a lot of discomfort.

These feet have done a lot of walkin'...

Everyone deserves to feel comfortable in every walk of life. Look for comfort in your life. You deserve it!

Did You Ever ...

Have you ever had one of those dreams where someone is chasing you and you are fearing for your life and you try to scream. And absolutely nothing comes out?!??

I had another 'one of those dreams' the other night. I knew within my dream state that I was dreaming because when I went to scream, it worked! I was so impressed and relieved. Finally ... I could call out for help and be heard!

At that precise moment, I woke up and my throat hurt from screaming. So I grabbed a cough drop and went back to sleep.

I would have never thought of this dream again, if I hadn't stumbled across the cough drop wrapper on my night table the next morning.

I laughed to myself when I remembered 'the scream' in my dream and I vividly recalled my sore throat that was not in my imagination. It hurt. It really hurt.

Then I wondered ... did I scream out loud?

If I did, no one in the house came to my rescue. It is no wonder that I have dreams where I can't call for help (I have recurring '911' dreams where I dial 911 and no one is there).

The message is clear. "You are on your own, girl!" Face it. And carry on ....

Surviving the Moment

Yesterday was one of those Daycare Days that (normally) has the ability to have me running for cover the moment the last child has left for the day. But after all was said and done, I felt like I had conquered the day (not the other way around).

There were few (if any) successes wrapped within the day. I endured. I pushed through. I dealt with what I had to deal with. And I moved on.

The day was moderately normal until the after-lunch-and-pre-nap-rituals started to play out. Add a trial run for my new (almost) one-year-old that will be soon joining our family? And it was definitely a challenging two hours.

Two hours. Two hours out of ten. That isn't so bad, is it?

There have been days when a rough patch like that would have done me in. I would have folded. I would have admitted defeat and caved in to the pressures of a small piece of the day and let it overtake and overwhelm me.

Those two hours were wrapped inside of eight additional hours of normal. Eight hours of nothing spectacular. Eight hours of following regular, old, tried and true routines. Eight hours of okay made those challenging few hours bearable.

Such is life.

If one piece of your world is out of kilter and hard to bear, it can be endured if the remainder of your life remains stable. One part unruly to four parts stable and predictable equals a better ability to cope.

It is when too many pieces of your world are out of balance at the same time, that a person loses their equilibrium and it becomes to feel so much harder. Answers start to feel illusive when too many variables are unknown.

I have been on the listening end of many conversations where I hear people fighting to regain a status quo within their life. There is a quiet desperation when a person is fighting to keep their head above water. When this puzzle called life becomes so mangled that it feels impossible to figure out how to piece it all together again.

Remain calm. Breathe. Ten deep breaths in and out will buy you at least twenty seconds and will assist in regaining composure. Grab your oxygen mask and 'save yourself first'. Once you are okay, you are in a better spot to 'save others' or regain control over one other piece of your world that is running amok.

If you are very fortunate (as I was in the very core of our Terribly Taxing Daycare Day), nap time will follow the crisis point. A period of complete and utter peace and solitude grounds me in a way that little else does.

Another small thing that made a huge difference in my ability to cope was to focus on the moment. I wasn't trying to squeeze more into my day than time allowed. I had cleared the slate of all-that-must-be-done and all that I had to contend with, was the 'moment' (not everything else that I had hoped to squeeze into the moments that surrounded it).

Ground yourself in ways that you know fill your soul. Nourish yourself with that which you need to sustain the feeling. Every day. You simply never know when you will need to call on those reserves.

We Did It!

I sat in the passenger seat beside my Student Driving Son last night and it turns out that there is no thrilling story to tell at the end of our maiden voyage.

I'm not certain how long we he drove but at the end of it, he decided that 'now' was a good time to hand me back the keys and he said, "I think that we both did fairly well" (I didn't overpower him with my anxiety and he didn't crash).

He did tell me what he saw and felt from my body language in the passenger seat though.

"From my peripheral vision, it looked like you were sitting at an angle towards the driver's seat" and my hands. He noticed my hands.

He compared his three learning driving experiences and who/what made him feel the most calm.

His driving instructor holds onto the handhold above the passenger seat and has his foot poised over the brake pedal at all times. Not very reassuring to one who has been behind the wheel zero to two times before driving with a professional instructor.

His Older Brother sat calmly, facing the road with his hands nonchalantly at his side (or on his lap or anywhere that they may naturally have fallen).

I had my hands out in front of me. Some parents use their imaginary brake pedal and almost push through the floorboards in a subconscious effort to stop a moving vehicle like Fred Flintstone did in the cartoons. Not me. We were working on steering as he made right hand turns. Apparently I had an imaginary steering wheel.

I was completely unaware of the language my body was speaking but as My Son told me what he saw out of the corner of his eye, the 'language' he felt precisely replicated my anxieties.

Even when we are holding back and not saying what we shouldn't say, our bodies speak loud and clear. If we do not want our body language to betray us, we must firmly believe in that-which-we-say.

This must be why a person automatically trusts one person over another. Who they are on the outside, is the same person that resides within.

Now I must go and teach myself to believe in my Young Son's driving capabilities. I must erase the "We Crashed" headline from my mind before we head out again. We have only just begun...