2019-08-31 Autumn Declarations 🍂🍅🌼 and Life Proclamations

I woke at 7:22am after sleeping for a solid 8 hours and 55 minutes. That’s the most I’ve slept in months, my average hovering at about 6.5. I feel great. Not just good, but great. Well, well now.

Despite a few bumps, August was a success. I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be, tip-toes, tipping over into September. A few days ago I said “I hate mums”, which is harsh. I dislike mums but I can’t hold it against them that they are the signature fall flower that pairs best with pumpkins and nights getting longer and first frosts. Its a terrible job, but some flowers got to do it.

I can’t remember if I’ve always disliked fall or if this is a relatively new development. Have orange and moon white and deep purple and maroon been stained by the September’s and October’s that have scarred my past lives? And why do I remember falling apart in Fall instead of falling in love?

I did that. A whole section of one of those lives titled “August and Everything After”, because I really believed at the time that it was finally my very own happy ever after that would last for the rest of my life. I was so head-over-heels in Love. That was 2011. It’s true, I’m not over it, I haven’t “let go”, not completely. Why must we?

I’m here today, standing in the glow of in the best possible light to make a declaration. I still regret mistakes that I’ve made but must also acknowledge that without them, I wouldn’t be here. I’d be somewhere else living a different life and only the Universe knows what that alternate reality looks like. Let us not “let go” ever. Let’s instead hold on to all of it and look back once and a while and just resist staring.

Do we need to reject nostalgia? Is it harmful or very useful? If we dismiss the past how can we learn from those mistakes?

A few days ago I was writing a poem and had a “need” to incorporate something I wrote in about 1989. I went on a hunting expedition and found myself knee deep in memories. Back then everything was hand written so it’s a lot of paper to go through. It makes me very, very grateful for my left brain organizational tendencies. I loved organizing my writing as much as I loved writing it. It’s all sorted and dated and labeled with clever, appropriate titles. I love coming up with titles for things. A few days ago I wrote a whole page that was just potential titles for unwritten poems. I digress.

I found what I was looking for but also found several hand written journals I didn’t know I had. #truth. I flipped through briefly and was like “yup, that was my life”.. back when I was married, not the “August and Everything After” guy, but years before that with my ex-husband. I just looked and didn’t dwell. I put all the collections back in the boxes and back up on the top shelf in my closet.

So that was a life, and that was a different life, and this is a different one too. They are all my lives and that’s life.

The real declaration is that Fall doesn’t have to be the enemy. I don’t have to dread it. I can build a life where fall means we look forward to sweater weather and Wearing boots and sitting by the fire-pit and enjoying looking out across the lawn and seeing the mums bloom, their deep reds and sunset oranges coming to life as the leaves begin to fall. It can be whatever you want, you just have to know what that is.

See you in September..

Peace and Love,

~Miss SugarCookie

PS.. Here’s the poem I was looking for from one of my former lives (don’t hate, I was like 15 when I wrote it)…

Stacey’s Proclamation

I thought that life was blue
And that mosquito bites were red
But life is green I guess
Because that’s what Stacey said.

2019-09-11 Hung Over Sunday Status

We had a shindig at the house last night and I’m feeling it this morning. Jim has a lot of relatives and so when we have a family gathering, it’s a pretty good size crew. No representation from my side. My one brother and one of my sisters live in Colorado and my other sister is on vacation this week in Yellowstone. My mom couldn’t come cuz she’s watching my sisters animals and my dad wasn’t invited. Such is life.

I’m on the treadmill trying to walk off the crummy side-effects from too much vodka-cran and so far, it’s not really working. I’m not really in a writing mood either and that makes it the perfect time for a Sunday Status Cheat Day. I haven’t done one of these in a while. That’s something noteworthy I think.

With that, I’m going to just take a quick look at the entire month of July and compare to August so far since we’re already a third of the way through that. Eeeeeek!

For steps in July I got an average of 13k per day, which is over my goal of 12k so that’s pretty good. August, so far, has been only about 8k a day and that’s pretty rotten. Hard to balance out to 12 with that much of a deficit.

In contrast, my sleep was poor in July and I only had about 6 hours average per night. I blame residency and NYC. So far this month I’m back up to about 7.25. Seven and a half would be better (I just need two more bits). I think I can shoot for that. I think I’ll start right now.

***

That’s enough of that. I needed a do-over so I took a half a Xanax and had a fat nap. I needed the sleep more than the steps. And I needed to find my way to some sort of normal Sunday. Not sure I’m there yet

I put on my kitty cat earrings and left my engagement ring on the shelf after my nap.

My tennis elbow pain, which woke again from its cortisone sleep somewhere in New York City is just really angry now. I went to lift a water bottle off the counter and pain surged up my arm. I’m gonna have to get back to the ortho again. /deep sigh

The kids who also missed the family party because they were at the wedding of one of their first cousins (on their dads side of course) which was somewhere in Kansas. I miss them, and perhaps that was one thing that contributed to my being a little loosy-goosie with the vodka last night. They have seven 1st cousins on their dads side and I haven’t seen most that crew for 10 years. I saw pictures posted on Facebook last night. That made me a little sad too. They are all grown up. Life happens.

When I was at res I met a guy named Jackson. After the lodge switched me to the second floor because of the wasp problem my room was right next to his. I hung out on the patio real late a couple of nights and he’d follow me down to my room to chat after. He helped me eat the hummus and crackers and cheese I brought with me and I was grateful since I couldn’t eat it. I hate when food goes to waste. Sharing a wall, we devised a “knock code”. Two knocks for good night and three for good morning and the classic “shave and a hair cut, two bits” knock for “hi, is anybody there”. It was sweet.

We’ve been to lunch twice now and I sat with him and another newbie of our little UNOMFA program at a poetry reading Friday night. Jim was spending the evening with his son who is headed back to college this week and I was grateful to know a few faces at Kaneko and not sit all alone.

Not sure if I mentioned this after residency but my kids went on vacation with their dad to Yellowstone and glacier national park while I was gone. Lots of driving and camping and their dad proposed to his girlfriend somewhere out there on some beautiful scenic overlook. It’s been a long time coming and there’s a little part of me that wonders if my getting engaged has a little to do with the fact that he’s finally pulling the trigger too. Ten years really is a long time for two divorced people to both remain unmarried. When I got divorced I vowed to never get married again. Guess I was wrong about that.

He told me a couple of years ago he would never marry that girl. Guess he was wrong about that too. That’s life. February 2nd is going to sneak up fast and I have flashes of inspiration about the ceremony and the reception, but mostly it’s all still pretty fuzzy. I think I need to think about it some more, but today is certainly not the day for that.

I’n a little bit the kids will be coming home and I’m going to have leftovers from the party for dinner. I don’t think I’ll be quite back to normal until tomorrow. It sucks to get old. I remember when I could drink like that and have a grand time (like I did last night) and wake up the next day feeling great by 10AM. Now hangovers seem to last about 24 hours. It’s rotten.

What I should have done this weekend is a lot of reading and writing but just never got down to it. The weekend hours are waning now and I may do a little light reading and see if I can get myself into it. Maybe.. no promises of course.

I guess this qualifies as a status. Status minus most of the stats. Ha.

Two bits and I’m gone,

~Miss SugarCookie

2019-07-04 Great Day for a Ride! 🚲☀️🇺🇸

Seriously though.. I have no idea if it’s going to be a good day for a ride today or not. Our internet took a dive this week and I don’t have a data plan that supports apps and browsing and all that good stuff so I’m sort of stalled out on multiple fronts. It’s my excuse for not being able to check the weather and also why I’m not making progress on our “save the date” cards. 😜

I’d love to be able to map out a new 4th of July bike ride, which is my tradition for that day. I historically rode from my house to the Keystone and then hit the Bellevue loop to try and ride to the Missouri River. However, with the move this year, I’m now about 20 extra miles northwest of my original starting point and so that plan is no bueno.

The other part of that tradidition was that my ride was always solo, even when I was dating Matt. The holiday had always been a big deal for my perfect little family (pre-divorce) .. we hosted a sizable event with friends and family and had food and drinks and games all day and then a healthy firework display at dusk. Yeah, we were that block family that drove to Missouri to get the good stuff and when the show started, all our neighbors came out and sat around our cul-de-sac to watch.

All of that magic went bye-bye with the separation and I lost custody of the holiday in the divorce. It was always a bigger deal to my ex and the kids love it, so I let them have it. In return, I got Halloween, which the kids also love. From that year forward I would pack snacks and a beverage and get on my bike and just ride. It was great to be free and feel the wind in my hair and listen to my music. It became my time to reflect on the past and was good despite often getting emotional thinking about our family and friends and my kids gathered and having a great time without me.

I did that year after year and each year was a little better. I made peace with the past and myself and my failed marriage and all the loss that cane with it. This year is the 10 year anniversary of my first solo holiday and for the first time in 10 years, I won’t be riding alone. Jim will be riding right along side of me and it feels great to be starting a new tradition. It’s a good time to map a new route!

I’ve got about 4 apps on my phone that show the area trails and not a single one will load right now. Perhaps that means we should just wing it??! 🤷‍♀️

In any case, I’m excited about celebrating with Jim today and have so much to be grateful for!

I hope everyone has a safe and healthy 4th of July!

Cheers to Traditions!

~Miss SugarCookie

2019-06-17 The One About Marriage – Part 2

It’s Monday and the weekend went by too fast. We had a house full of teenagers again this go-round and it feels like I spent the entire weekend cleaning the kitchen and doing dishes. I don’t want this to turn into a rant but I just feel like I’ve gotta get it out. Every single time I walked through the kitchen, there was another mess waiting for me. I say “me” because clearly I’m the one with the lowest tolerance for mess.

In my head I’m all like “how hard is it to rinse your dirty dishes, wipe up spilled cheese or Ketchup, and not explode things in the microwave?” Apparently it’s pretty tough. And they seem fairly oblivious. It’s as if nobody has ever suggested they pick up after themselves before. Don’t even get me started on the lack of attention to recycling. I can’t tell you how many times I pulled empty soda cans and plastic cups out of the trash. I have to fight my own disgust but I do that because I hate to see recyclable materials go into the trash. But, again, I should not dwell here too long. Life is too short.

Among other things we did this past. weekend was the forward progress on wedding planning. I think it was Friday night when I finally breached the subject about my wedding angst with Jim. In truth, I put more weight on the wedding than the marriage, just like I did when I first opened the topic here in “Part 1”.

I began with the story about my first wedding and how it all just happened and I was a tangent in my own life. I never dreamed of a wedding growing up. I never had visions of what I wanted. I never even wanted to get married, as I grew up in a household in constant transition because of failed relationships.

When I was 19 and was unexpectedly proposed to, that set the wheels in motion and it was like a train on the tracks with no brakes. It was all sort of too much and there I was, outside myself and watching it happen. I was focused on finishing my associates degree and navigating a long distance relationship with my betrothed. All the while my future mother-in-law was planning our wedding.

Food, cake, flowers, balloons, centerpieces, bows for the end of the pews in the church, invitations, drinks, glasses to toast with, a knife to cut the cake, and some cute “precious moments” cake topper. No detail was too small and it was all just taken care of. I picked the color theme, midnight blue and black, but I guess midnight blue was tough to accommodate and we ended up with a bunch of stuff that was a lighter shade of blue – bridesmaid dresses, balloons, cummerbunds, and all the bows on everything. I picked the invitation, which was a black rose next to the text and that was the extent of my contribution.

The truth is that they probably asked me and I didn’t care. I was the anti-bridezilla. I didn’t even have my own dress. His mom gave me her dress and it fit and was good enough so I went with that. It was great because then I would not have to spend time dress shopping or spend any money on something I was only going to wear once. I digress.

On Friday night I told Jim I wasn’t sure about the whole wedding thing and that spending thousands of dollars just doesn’t seem justified. Let’s just say we rented a hall. That’s like $1000 right there. Catering will likely be $2500 and I have no idea how much decorations or all the little details will cost but I can easily see that the whole thing could cost $5000 or more. That’s enough for a really great vacation. Poof, gone.

We didn’t get very far with that conversation because there were other goings on and it just melted into the drama of other thoughts. He just said, “well just keep looking at the options and see how we feel”. We were seeing our first possible venue on Saturday so i agreed and so that was it.

On Saturday we went to check out two possible celebration locations and seeing those did nothing to sway my feelings. It didn’t make me excited and I had a hard time visualizing the event despite One of the spaces being decorated for a wedding reception already. The gal showing us the spaces was nice enough and provided a lot of detail for both. She even showed me pictures on her phone of different ideas.

All I kept thinking was that on top of everything else, the lions share of deciding how it should look is going to fall on me. Knowing what you want is sometimes the toughest part of any decision. How do you choose your job, your weekend plans, what to eat for dinner?. I’m so “go with the flow”, I don’t typically care. Perhaps it was good My now ex-MIL planned the last one.

I just did the math. That was 26 years ago. Good grief!!

One of the venues was ruled out completely because it was presumably too small for the amount of people we will likely invite. The other was large enough but I just didn’t get the right vibe. I could not tell if that was just me or because I didn’t like it. The best thing that came from the whole affair was the conversation that it spurred.

We talked about the guest list, what we both think about the entire weekend and what might be best in light of different dynamics involved. It was good for me to hear his thoughts. It makes it feel like more of a joint effort where both of us are involved. It makes me think that at the heart of my trepidation lies fear of divided and targeted roles and lines in the sand.

I don’t want to be the sole person responsible for always deciding things and always cleaning the kitchen. I’m looking past the wedding to the important part.. the marriage. It needs to be a partnership and a team and this whole wedding planning thing is a great litmus test. Though I have no idea what I would do if we fail.

By my latest estimate, we have about a month before the “save the date” postcards need to go out. That’s a thing now. I spent some time on Sunday going through hundreds of pics I’ve taken in the last year looking for good snaps we could use in the announcement. It was a nice reminder that the last year of my life has been pretty freaking great.

I know all of our years will not be like the first one we met, but if I hold the past year up as it’s own test, the marriage we are planning will be wonderful. I just need to keep that in mind. The wedding is just a blip in time, the marriage is what really matters.

I need to count myself among the fortunate ones. I’ve already figured out what I want and what I need and finally found that. So much of life is perspective and perception.

This “Part 2” is not the conclusion. There is more. I’m just peeling back the layers which will hopefully lead me to the answers I seek. It’s who I am. It’s why I’m here. I suppose it’s a good thing I’m no longer procrastinating thinking about it. Baby steps, you know?

The minutia of the day plays a part in all of it of course. And that will be fine as long as I don’t get stuck there in an endless “while” loop.. washing piles of dirty dishes and fishing soda cans out of the trash. Can I get a line of code with a conditional exit please? 😜

That’s all for today I suppose. T-minus 24 hours until I’m “on the move” again. Tomorrow’s agenda will be another change of scenery.

Peace and Love,

~Miss SugarCookie

2019-06-07 The One About Marriage – Part 1

It’s been about 9 and a half months since my love proposed to me. It was a beautiful setting, the green space outside of the location we met for the first time. It was a warm day and though the sun was shining, there were isolated showers. He started giving what sounded like a speech and I just knew what was coming. In truth, I’d had suspicion that it was going to be soon and even told my daughter early in the day I was nervous about my date that night. It was my birthday and he insisted on taking me out, just the two of us, which isn’t particularly odd for a birthday dinner, but like I said, I just had a feeling.

He ended his little speech (which I don’t remember anything about because of my nerves) and got down on one knee and took the box out of his pocket and held it up to me and asked if I would marry him. Of course I said yes, it was the perfect moment. Then the sky opened up and it began to to pour. We hugged and kissed and I grabbed his hand so we could go inside for a celebratory glass of wine (our first meetup was at a wine bar).

It was sweet and simple and perfect. We were outside and there were not any people around. It was just us.

Since then we have talked about getting married about 10 times. That’s about once a month if one does the math. That’s not a lot.

The first time was when we drove to Minnesota last fall and that’s when we agreed we wanted to have a celebration with close friends and family and not a destination wedding. Our parents, except for my mom, don’t travel anymore and destination weddings are too expensive for the guests anyway.

The second and third time was mostly talking about the possible dates and the guest list. Neither one of us want a “big” wedding so we decided something smaller and more modest would be better. He suggested we get married on our one year anniversary and I sort of snorted what I was drinking out of my nose at the time and then proceeded to have an internal mini freak out. I calmly said “I think that’s too soon”.

Then we talked about summer and weather and a ceremony outside. Then I came up with the idea of getting married on February 2nd, 2020. That, folks, is a stellar day as it is a bonafied numeric palindrome – 02022020 (no matter what continent you are on)!! He said “I love it”. So that was it, the date was set.

And it was delightfully far enough in the future that I could forget all about it for a good little while. And so I did.

Every once and a while the subject came up and something else was more pressing. It was the holidays and then the move and then the sale of my house and then it was just work and kids and too much to do always. Now here it is, June and less than 8 months until that perfect date and I’m done with work and the kids are out of school and I’ve got no excuses not to start planning.

We talked briefly about it again and I cleaned out a few boxes in my closet and found an empty notebook to take notes in. I googled venues in Omaha and made a short list of a few places that looked nice.

I made a few calls and left awkward voicemails and also sent a few emails. We’re “Just checking availability” and not really doing any serious planning. That’s what I tell myself when I feel my pulse quicken thinking about all of it.

Now my calls and emails are being returned. A couple of the places are not available on that date and the next step will be to schedule tours of the rest. Oh gawd. “Tours”??!! That sounds so serious. Eeeek. I’m also looking at price breakdowns and that alone is enough for me to throw my hands up in surrender. It’s all just impossibly.. impossible.

Just this amount of “planning” has caused my eye to start twitching again. I want to celebrate this important time in our lives but I don’t want a grand, elaborate, expensive, look-at-us, sort of thing. He doesn’t either.

All of this and I haven’t even touched the actual subject of marriage. This is all just fluff, you know, next to the fact that on that day, the second day of February in the year 2020, I will be saying vows and committing the rest of my life to this one person. I mean, he’s amazing and all of that but the rest of my life is a long fucking time. I have a healthy amount of anxiety about the wedding but the idea of marriage literally terrifies me.

I’ve had almost 10 months to think about it and work through my issues and the reasons why I might be feeling this way, but I’ve been avoiding it. I’ve procrastinated thinking or writing or talking about it at any length with anyone, myself included. It’s probably about time I approach the conversation with him and let him help me through it. He’s been so great about so many different situations I’ve been challenged with or troubled by since like day-1, so why should this be any different??

Anyway, we have a (mostly) kid free weekend this weekend and it will be the perfect time for some good conversations. I can’t let myself repeat past mistakes and keep it all inside. Communication is key here. And, as a matter of fact, it’s one of the most important components in a successful marriage. I’d better make an effort to keep a good thing good now. It’s a long way till “death do us part”. Oh Gawd. Vows!!!!

Let’s call this little post part 1 of a series and if I can commit to that, I’m accountable to write part 2, which means I have to have the content to have something to write about.. right!?!!

Here Comes the Weekend,

~Miss SugarCookie

2019-06-04 An Amalgamation of Nugatory Thoughts

Last Friday I sat outside in a chair in the shade on my back patio trying to turn the day’s blog post which was wrought with emotion into a poem. In doing so I ended up with a poem and about a dozen bites on my neck and left arm from some unseen spider or bug or four. Now I’m still itchy and resisting the urge to scratch. I ask myself, “was it worth it?”.

The answer is “yes” and of course now Ive learned a lesson too about writing outside. I just love being outside. I think as children we have instincts that take us there and, of course we have time to spare. There is so much lost in the transition to adulthood, it’s quite tragic.

I remember when I was a senior in high-school one of my favorite things to do was to just sit on my front porch. We had a tiny two bedroom house for the five of us and that house had a four foot by five foot cement slab outside the front door surrounded on two sides by a railing and was the first “step” to a series of other steps that led down a fairly steep slope to our one car driveway below. That top landing was just big enough for one folding chair and it was my perch for a whole year and a half before we moved again.

I used to sit there with my notebook, writing and thinking and thinking and writing, I watched the comings and going’s of people and animals. And sometimes I didn’t do anything except feel the warm sun on my face when it was high in the sky. When people say “those were the good ole’ days”, that’s what they are talking about.

It sort of sounds like a girl without a care in the world but nothing could have been further from the truth. And I’ve got evidence. Those notebooks recorded many parts of my adolescent years including the impossibly hopeless crush I had on my neighbor across the street and how my parents were incredibly insensitive about pretty much everything. It’s just the kind of fluff one might expect to find in the pages of a sixteen year old girl’s journal.

Then I grew up and unlearned how to sit still for an afternoon, watching life waft by. I think most adults feel that, possibly. That we no longer have the ability to just sit and observe.

Now I’ve just got to be moving. I’ve got to be active and not “waste” any minutes doing nothing. If I sit for even just s few minutes, I start thinking about things that need “doing”. Lists that need writing, closets needing to be cleaned and organized, dishes, laundry, blah-blah-woof-woof. That’s the real fluff!

What I really need to do is re-learn what’s been lost. Reprogram my neural network to slow down and just enjoy nature and the beauty in being still. What I would love to do is take my kids with me on the ride, and make sure they understand the importance and power in doing nothing.

The inventions of personal, hand-held computers has had such a negative impact on their lives. They have probably already missed many opportunities to enjoy their own imaginations because of phones and social media apps and video games. That’s tragic too.

It’s not lost on me that my daughter is now the exact age I was when I lived in that house. She spends most of the time in her room, with her laptop and phone. The things she’s writing have so much purpose and necessity behind them. She’s already busy doing all the things and not taking care to relax and let her mind be free.

Maybe this summer I can relearn and also teach. Now that, folks, would be time well spent.. not Nugacious at all!!!

Peace and Love,

~Miss SugarCookie

Nugacious… came from a Latin word that meant worthlessness. It also appeared as nugation, nugament, and nugality. Something nugatious is of no importance. In philosophy, nugae were difficult but trivial matters over which a disproportionate amount of time was taken. Nugaemania was an overwhelming attraction to trifling things. A nugator was an empty-headed person; he was nugatorious.

2019-05-12 Chicago and The Road Home

Our stay here was brief and as uneventful as it could be given the circumstances. My “mystery” sickness is better this morning and I forced down a bowl of oatmeal to prove it. If I had to guess what the hell happened yesterday I would say that it was a mix of a bad migraine and some lingering effects of air travel/dehydration/and 3 glasses of red wine that did me in. I swear the older I get the less I can drink without feeling like complete garbage. The glasses were tiny though, so it could not have been just that alone.

In any case, that ruined my entire day yesterday and the only thing on the agenda this morning is a quick stop back at the John Handkock building for another appointment and then picking up our rental car to get the heck out of this town. I’ll be driving and am really hoping that, despite the fact that it is mothers day, the traffic will not be nearly as dense as it was Friday when we made our way from the airport to downtown. (fingers crossed).

The plan this morning is to make a bee line straight back home… Iowa is a pretty enough state (more beautiful than Nebraska in my opinion), but it is very similar and there is only so much rolling farmland one can wonder at before searching for something more interesting to keep the brain occupied.

I sent my mother the obligatory “happy mothers day” text already. She’s in Colorado with my brother and niece whose high school graduation was this weekend. My dad (her grandpa) didn’t make the trip, of course. That kind of stuff just doesn’t seem important to him. He has three fairly successful children and four grandchildren who are on their own path to being independent and successful but he doesn’t seem to care. Its so odd to me.

I’m proud of every little accomplishment that my kids have and can’t for the life of me figure out what that man values in life. He dotes on his step great grandchildren as if they were his own and I’m constantly struggling with anger rising in my thought when he mentions it. I should be happy that those kids whose broken lives have a solid family they can turn to in time of need, but I can’t help but feel jealous that they are being given something I felt I should have had, and if not me, then most certainly my children. I know he values a greeting card, which seems stupid and wasteful to me. If I visit (because a visit in person is way more valuable than a stupid card) we chat and he pulls out all the cards he got from other people to show me. It’s a shitty tactic. How the hell is that supposed to make me feel. Sometimes when I think about it too much I get sort of angry and then I have to try to calm myself and let it go. It’s this internal dance I do just to maintain some form of relationship with the man.

My kids don’t really have relationships with their grandparents, interestingly, similarly to me not having one with mine. I have some vague family memories of good times (and bad) and that’s about it.

I guess that’s why I always think about mothers day as one of those hallmark holidays (like valentines day) that someone made up just to commercialize sentiments and make money. I don’t fancy buying cards or spending money on throw-away trinkets or even cut flowers that are just going to die. For what? To show someone how much you mean to them? No, I’d rather just say it in words – If I feel it anyway. Sometimes I don’t say it, and shame on me.

One year I was in Austin over mothers day and forgot it was mothers day and then when I was reminded (because Rebecca has kids and they were celebrating) I called my mom. She cried on the phone. “Dustin is in Colorado and Linsday and Jamie are both working and you are in Texas, nobody cares about me.”

“Well I care don’t I, and I called”. I said and then in a softer tone “Everyone has very busy lives and we all love you, and you know that. It’s just one day of the year, and we’ll have lots more days we can get together.” That helped I think but then I had to agree to go to lunch with her when I got back, which I did. It’s fine. It’s just the way she is. Emotional and self centered.

I don’t expect anything from my kids today. I’ve told them as much many times in the past. When I see them (which I won’t today), I’ll want hugs and conversation. That’s it. Nothing special. My daughter being the gifted and thoughtful girl she is has gone above and beyond in the past with putting together special surprises all on her own. I’m overjoyed that she wants to do those things when she knows its not necessary. One year I had the best mothers day gift a mom could ever dream of from here and it was very elaborate and spanned an entire year of our life. It was a gift that kept on giving, all the time. I may have written about it in the past but don’t recall right now.

They are with their dad today as I drive home from Chicago and I will likely not see them until tomorrow after school. Maybe I will get a text from them today and maybe I won’t. No matter.

Pretty soon now it will be time to pack up and walk to get our rental car. Next Stop.. Iowa and the Road Home.

Goodbye 900 Dewitt,

Hope we never meet again!

~Miss SugarCookie