2019-07-30 NYC Day 5 – A Girl and Her Limits

Nothing like trying to remember exactly what life was like 48 hours and 1,241 miles ago, especially when traveling has created a haze around everything. Where was I at again? Oh yeah, New York City. It was a Monday in the year 2019 and I was just a girl traveling with her family and trying to do every last damn thing… which pushed me to my limit.

Our first stop that Monday was to the new One World Trade Center. The time was 9:30AM. We had tickets to go up to the observation deck on the 102nd floor and experience NYC from the highest point in the city. From there, you can walk 365 degrees around and see for miles in all directions. Their slogan, “See Forever” feels spot on. You can see to the edges of earth where it starts to curve under. The advertised “experience” included a bunch of electronic nonsense — iPads, video clips, and interactive displays. As if being shot up 100 floors in less than 45 seconds and pondering life from such a height wasn’t good enough. Guess I’m just a simple girl.

The second stop of the day was a short walk from the new trade center. It was the memorial site and museum for the original buildings that were destroyed on 9/11. All of the 16 acres of land where the original seven buildings stood has been reconfigured into new buildings, a green space, and a memorial and museum. We did a 1 hour guided tour and also walked around the area above ground where the twin towers stood.

Those two locations have now been transformed into a pair of water features where the water descends into the middle past where the eye can see and the stone on the perimeter of the pools has the names of all persons who lost their lives etched in it. That was quite touching and the tour even more so. Our guide did a great job walking us through the museum and relaying information about the day, the towers, the structural collapse of the buildings, stories of people involved in escaping, rescue, recovery, and clean up in the months to follow.

I learned a great deal of new information and was moved to tears watching video of the bringing down and “laying to rest” one of the great concrete columns. The city has done a fantastic job with the space and it was time well spent.

Our third stop of the day, and last ticketed attraction, was the cruise out to the Statue of Liberty and trek up inside the statue. This was also memorable, but for very different reasons. This, “pilgrimage”, if you will, is a thing that most tourists who visit NYC do. An icon of the city and of our nations history, it is one of the most toured sites in the country. There were hundreds upon hundreds of people piling onto the cruise ships which departed about every 20 minutes. It was a massive moving crowd of human bodies on and off and through three different airport like security checkpoints. If they were going for the “huddled masses” effect, they were successful.

We had also not eaten since breakfast (and some of us don’t eat breakfast) so we also had the pleasure of being packed into the food court for what was arguably the worst cheeseburger I have ever had. Let’s make that official – Crown Cafe Cheeseburger, a solid 1 (terrible) on a 5 point scale. TO be fair, Jim had the “New York burger” and said it was delicious. There were lots of cooks on the grill and perhaps our line cook was having an off day. To make matters worse, our tickets to go up in the statue were for 3PM and we were pressed for time and had to eat in about 5 minutes.

We gobbled the food, headed for the statue at a good clip, and then proceeded to climb the 215 steps that are inside the pedestal of the statue. Bear in mind, by this time of the day the heat was at its peak and there was a heat advisory on the island. I got to the top of the pedestal, quite winded, where you can walk outside and look. I took my time walking around and would have taken longer, but the rest of the crew were impatient to go up to the crown. They only allow a few folks a day up there and we bought our tickets months ago.

They let us through the roped-off section to the stairs that led up into the top of the pedestal where the statue is secured to the base. That is as far as I got. The next stairs to climb were a tight spiral that wound around the center of the statue. When I say tight, I mean narrow and steep, and confining. Once you commit to going up, there is no going back down. You have to get all the way to the top before you can descend down the other side of the spiral. I got about 20 steps up and a panic came over me. I felt trapped and hot and dizzy and nauseous. I went back down those 20 steps and waited at that level, alone, while the rest of our crew went up and came back down.

That is the first time in my life I was not able to do something because of a panic. I’ve been afraid of things before – rollercoasters, public speaking, driving up and around cliffs on mountainsides, scuba diving, snorkeling – and at no time have I ever let that fear get the best of me. It’s just all in the head, you know. You have to push past it and things always turn out just fine. This was different though. This felt less like a mental block and more like an actual physical limitation. As I stood there alone I briefly tried to talk myself into heading up and then, upon realizing it was not going to happen, I instead tried to reason out why my body was reacting the way it was.

All I could think is that it must have been the perfect storm to create such a commotion inside. The heat, the emotional draining from seeing the 911 memorial, the being packed on a rocky boat, the pounding food into an empty stomach, the physical exhaustion from climbing the first set of stairs, the lack of a break in-between hikes around the island and up. All of these things culminated in my having a meltdown at the base of the steps that led up to the crown. All these things were responsible, I told myself, and not just a simple fear of being trapped. It couldn’t be just that. I sat down and wept. It was the second time I cried that day and would not be the last.

When Jim and the kids came back down, we all descended the rest of the stairs together and once back inside the air-conditioned lower level, both Jim and Z took me aside separately to ask me what happened. I still couldn’t say anything more than “I just couldn’t do it”. Z put her arm around me and gave me a light squeeze. Then Jim did the same. That’s when the tears came again. I just wanted to be done, and magically transported back to the apartment, back to a cool place to rest. There was no magic, of course and It would take about 2 more hot, sweaty, physically and emotionally draining hours to get back home.


That evening would be our last in the City. I didn’t want to waste it and was quite sick of “vendor and cafe” food. The area we were located is called “Hells Kitchen” which is named partially because the area is so densely packed with exceptional restaurants. We had only been at a sit down place twice the entire trip and that was a damn shame. It was mostly easier to satisfy the kids needs by eating a quick slice a pizza or hot dog or hamburger on the go.

So after our recovery Jim and I went out to a real restaurant, just him and I. I wanted to go to the “Hell’s Kitchen” restaurant which was literally less than a block from our apartment. It was Mexican food and a margarita sounded like the perfect refreshing start of the evening. It was.

We had a great meal and got a buzz on over our tacos and nachos. It felt like a normal night out at home. It also gave me the pep I needed to venture out, one last time, to Times Square with Z. Everyone else was over it, but realizing that it was our last opportunity, we went for it.

Jim stayed back with the boys so it was a girls only night out. We hit the Disney store and one of a dozen “I ❤️ NYC” souvenir stores. We stopped in at the McDonald’s to get her fries and a soda, “dinner of champions” in the heart of Manhattan. We sat at a table between the streets and giant electronic billboards. We caught some more Pokémon and laughed a lot and then wandered back, carefully avoiding the group of mini-mouses and other cartoon characters. It was a great night and a good end to our Big adventure in the Big Apple.

There’s more to write (and remember) as always. Words that go forever and curve under the edges of the earth. But even the longest day has to end sometime and this one is quickly fading into the haze.

Next Stop.. Nebraska!

~Miss SugarCookie

2019-06-30 Super-Sized Sunday Status

It’s official.. Half the year is done. There’s no time like late on a Sunday where the digits outside are soaring to get some steps in my cool basement and reflect upon the status of things.

I used to take some time most Sundays and look at how my sleep, and exercise, and healthy eating were trending. Now it’s about once a month. I mean, I technically “look” everyday at my sleep for the previous day and am constantly mindful of my step count and if I’ve hit my goal for the day, but lately it’s all just blending together. I’ve got good routines and don’t worry too much if I’m off for a few days. And I might say “healthy eating” is one of my goals but I’m not even sure if I’ve ever found a good definition for that.

Is it moderation? Is it a perfect balance of protein, fat, and carbs? Is it veggies and micronutrients? Is it limiting things like sugar and gluten and caffeine? It certainly shouldn’t have anything to do with weight or BMI Or dress size. I person who is a size 4 can have terrible eating habits and with the healthy metabolism maintain that size.

I digress. Let’s see what The almighty Fitbit has to say about my stats for the last week, month, and half year…

Sleep.. 7 hours and 14 minutes average for the past week. 7 hours and 18 minutes for the month of June and 7, 14 for the year so far. I think that’s pretty much right on target. I’m not sure getting more sleep at night will ever help my all too common afternoon brain fog and evening exhaustion. I hate to say I think it might just be related to my age. Even when I get 8 hours of sleep it does not seem to have a positive impact on my issues. I’d like to see if napping might help but I cant seem to hit enough consistency of routine to really say for sure. 🤔🤷‍♀️ I’m still going to maintain that good quality sleep is key in overall heath, which is just me flexing my “captain obvious” superpower but I always say, what may seem obvious to some isn’t necessarily obvious to all.

Steps/Exercise.. Last week I got about 10K steps each day which is another stat that has not had much variation in the last month and half year. Both come in at just above 10K, 10.1 and 10.6 respectively. My goal there is 12K so I’m still not there yet. But it’s days like yesterday that are the biggest challenge. I hit my goal almost everyday this week and then yesterday I was just a lump (plus we were in the car a good part of the day), so I only got like 3K. That kills my weekly average. In order to have days like that I would need to boost my daily goal to like 15 or 18. That would be tough.

With sleep, both quality and quantity are important measures. With exercise it’s tougher to measure the other key factors, such as diversity and strength or balance work. I’ve recently started doing Jazzercise again regularly and I can already tell a difference. It’s tough to put into words but my body just feels better. I’m only doing 5 pound free weights as I’m still unsure what affect doing arm weights will have on my tennis elbow. When I stopped doing Jazzercise last year I was using 8 pound weights. Eventually my goal will be bank to that.

I guess one measure I could be paying more attention to is resting heart rate. According to several web sites I visited, adults normally range from 60-100 and lower scores indicate better, more efficient cardiovascular function. Mine was 66 this past week and 63 the past week and this year so far. I’m going to say that’s a good thing.

I guess not much has changed in my relationship or school status either. Still happily engaged and on a break from School. Although one of those is going to take a dramatic turn in July. There will be at least one post coming soon dedicated to my 3rd term in the MFA program at UNO.

The biggest change in the last month has been my switch from full-time wage earner to “stay-at-home-Mom”/“household engineer”. That transition was mostly positive. Life is never free of doubts, but all things considered, it’s been great. The jury is still out on the question of whether I will go back to work. If I do, it will be when I am done with school and hopefully it will be something more in the sphere of writing and less on IT.

All in all my stats are petty stable and that doesn’t leave much to write about. Still, ive still managed a healthy sized post for this last day of June.

July is looking like one crazy rollercoaster. I’ve got about 1 more full week until that ride starts. It’s also a holiday week so we’ve got a few fun things planned. I should have plenty of time to get everything I want done, including sleep and exercise!!

Well that’s it for today.. this month.. and the first half of 2019. If you only get two bites, make sure they are good ones!

Cheers, 🍻

~Miss SugarCookie

2019-06-05 Ten Random Things…

Easy Like Lemon-Squeezeeee…

1. My Fitbit died yesterday for no apparent reason. I’m torn between contacting the company (because it’s not that old and stuff shouldn’t just stop working like that), not replacing it and seeing how life goes on without it, and running right out this morning to buy a new one.

2. We have a new egg in our Zebra finch nest this morning!!

3. It’s June 5th and I just finished the second book which was on my list of goals for the month of May.

4. It’s gonna be 90+ degrees today and I guess that means it’s officially summer.

5. I thought it was Tuesday until like 5 seconds ago.

6. It’s the third day in a row I’m doing Jazzercise today.

7. It’s the fifth day in a row I’m going to be eating gluten-free.

8. I got contacted by the same publisher who had published one of my poems last year asking for me to submit again. Ok!!

9. I got another email yesterday about a poetry contest for which the prize is 1,000 bucks! Wowza!!

10. It’s two weeks till I get to visit four of my bestest besties in Colorado. It’s so great to have so many awesome people in one place.

But seriously… This Fitbit thing is twisting my brain. I mean, how much control can one little device have on me??!! Yesterday I’m sure I got like 15k+ steps and not getting credit for that is a bummer. Then going to sleep last night without it was strange too. My stats are going to be so bonked up!! Stupid Fitbit!! 😬

That is all.

Happy Hump Day!

~Miss SugarCookie

2019-05-31 May the Thirty First

It’s the last day of the Month and at the present moment I’m looking at myself in the mirror and asking “What have YOU done?”. This constant soul searching is quite draining. But literally.. I’m on the treadmill in my basement that faces a mirror and I’m staring at myself. Seems pretty vain but it’s right there. It’s hard not to.

My observations?..

My hair looks good today. I washed it yesterday and it always looks best the day after that. My natural waves are clinging to each other in ringlets, loose and fluffy-ish on top with tighter spirals underneath. I straightened my hair for years and years trying to fit an ideal that was established by goodness knows who. Fashion people somewhere? Rich people? Skinny people with equally skinny hair. It’s just not natural to spend so much time trying to shape yourself into someone else’s picture of perfection.

I can say that my life is tremendously better now that I’ve gone ohh-la-la-natural. For one, I have more time now that I’m not spending an hour with a hair dryer and fat-barrel curling iron every time I wash my hair. And the other is that it’s liberating to not give a fuck what people think. The bonus plan is that I actually think it looks better this way. Yeah, I’m totally digging that “I woke up like this and so what” look.

I really wish I could say the same about my stomach and butt. But improving one’s self takes time and patience and the best changes don’t happen overnight. I still wake up everyday thinking about my weight and food and what I might strategically eat today and when. I’m constantly mentally calculating what I ate and drank yesterday and what that did to my number. You know the one… on the scale.

The first thing I do when I get out of bed in the morning is pee and strip naked and step on the scale. The second thing I do is go to my closet to put on workout clothes and pick up my phone (which I keep in the closet overnight and not by my bed) and log my weight in my Fitbit app. These are such routine behaviors for me at this point that I feel like something is wrong if things don’t start that way.

When I say “improving one’s self takes time”, I’m not talking about working off excess pounds so that the stomach is flatter and tighter. I’m talking about feeling ok with my shape the way it is now. Accepting my body and not being so highly critical of myself. It’s about not letting the dominant thought in my head be about how I look. I did it with my hair so I can certainly do the same for the rest of me. Right?!

I can’t actually see my stomach or butt from the treadmill. That’s probably a good thing. I can see my eyes and I have slightly smudged mascara because I didn’t wash my face before going to sleep last night. I basically walked into the bedroom, pulled the sheets back, crawled in and went to sleep. I slept straight through to 6am when Jim’s alarm clock went off.

I got up this morning and cooked him breakfast and sat on the couch and chatted while he ate. I clutched the cup of hot tea from two days ago I reheated in the microwave while the salmon was waiting to be turned over in the skillet on the stove. I can’t even waste a cup of tea.

When he’s done eating he gets up and kisses me goodbye and heads out the door for work. And there I sit, in my workout clothes holding the cup of tea that I’m not drinking again and I think, “this is my life now”. I’m not sure how long I sat there before I got up.

Yesterday I insisted that I was going to go to Jazzercise despite the fact that i didn’t feel good. It was a mistake. I did it and then spent the rest of the day feeling worse. I napped instead of going out to lunch with a friend and I wouldn’t let go of the internal argument of whether it would be better to rest and relax and recover or push hard through whatever it was that had a hold of me. Some strange, sneaky unwell feeling that didn’t have a definition.

When my daughter says she doesn’t feel good I ask “does your head hurt? Is it a stomach ache or cramps or do you feel nauseated? Do you have aches and pains you can point to or body parts you can name? Can you describe it as sharp or dull or throbbing?”.

What if the “ache” is a heavy heart or worried mind? What if you have anxiety of known or unknown origins? What if the sky is too big and it all just feels like too much or worse, that it doesn’t matter at all how you feel?

What if that girl you used to know finally died of the cancer that crept through time and sank it’s teeth in her bones, leaving behind two babies who will only ever remember their mom as a person fighting for her life for them. They won’t know the 20-something strawberry blonde, full of life, who hung out at Billy Frogs with you on Fridays after work, laughing at stupid things and drinking terrible cocktails and splitting nachos.

Or .. What if that other girl you barely know was raped and wrote a poem about it and posted it on Twitter? What if you wanted to hold her up and give her strength but you didn’t know what to say?

And what if that other girl you know really well because you have given birth to her is getting ready to fly away and the world she’s flying into is wrought with terrible things and terrible people and you can’t protect her from any of it?

You can’t stop time and you can’t keep bad things from happening and you sure as hell cant unmelt the polar ice caps or save all the creatures of this world from meeting their doom because human beings are incredibly selfish and sometimes only think about things like how their hair looks when they wake up in the morning.

You just can’t. But you might feel better if you write about it. So you do that, hoping that it will. “Hope is not a strategy”, but it will have to do today. Today on this thirty-first day of May.

Peace and Love,

~Miss SugarCookie

2019-05-06 Reading “Wasted”

I’m reading a book by Marya Hornbacher called “Wasted”. It’s her personal memoir that focuses on her history and struggle with eating disorders. I’m about a fourth of the way through the book and we just jumped from elementary school to middle school. I’m interested in this book for a couple of different reasons. First, Marya is a woman who is a mentor in my MFA program at UNO. I don’t think she takes on Poets as she is a creative non-fiction writer, but could be wrong. Secondly, the subject matter interests me because of my own struggle with my body image and history of bulimia.
I’m not sure exactly what I am looking for in the book. Perhaps some confirmation or validation or maybe just a connection to another human being who might understand my thoughts, which can often be quite absurd. The truth about eating disorders is that they never really leave you. It’s a lifelong battle in the mind between conflicting notions about how things ought to be. Her descriptions of life events is very much like this. Always extreme, and dire, and, if I may say, beautifully tragic. I would go so far as to say passionate. That’s how I would describe her writing and it’s very inspiring.
I can relate to some of the patterns of thought she lays out before the reader as if I were living in her skin, in her body. Her hyper self-criticism while looking in the mirror is too familiar. Having fallen into that mirror at the age of 9, is something that is not familiar to me, however, as I didn’t develop my eating disorder until I was in my 30s, after I had had two children.
I was a grown woman responsible for two small children and should have had better sense than I did. I’m reading all the things that Marya sites in her book that can be contributing factors, and I don’t have any of those classic problems. If I had issues with my parents growing up (which the Universe knows everyone does), that certainly could not have been any cause because I was well past all that nonsense. It’s not like I was having issues with puberty either. One common thread may be that our society still holds being “thin” on a pedestal and there is an ideal body image that we should work hard to try and get.

I wonder if that was one of the key ingredients along with most certainly my failing marriage and my (at the time) soon to be ex-husband and his desire for skinny women – which he was very vocal about. I know I also had this constant numbers game going in my head about weigh. I had lost weight to help with my PCOS and getting my hormones in check to get pregnant. Naturally I thought that meant that whatever weight that was, was healthy. The truth is, it’s still pretty close to what my present self believes to be the ideal. That is what I mean when I say that it never leaves you.

At the present moment, I am approximately 12 lbs heavier than that “ideal” weight and it is on my mind more than anything else. More than my children, or work, or school, or my relationship. I think about food all goddamn day and am constantly scheming about how I am going to solve the “problem”. I worry that my clothes are getting too tight. I worry that if I have celebratory meals, I’m going to regret indulging in things, I don’t want to sacrifice any quality of life I get from eating (which seems to be super-important for me), yet I feel shame and guilt when I have something I know is not healthy.

Honestly, I don’t even know where this blog post is going. Was that the long intro that I needed to bore everyone away from reading further so that I could confess that I actually tried throwing up again today (the first time in about 7 years). Marya read about a girl who commit suicide and thought “I could do that”. And I read about how she was throwing up at least once a day at the age of 12 and thought “maybe I could do that”. Of course I can’t. It’s ridiculous.

I mean, I can, but I am 45 and in no mood to deal with that nonsense. Once was a good enough reminder that it’s not the answer I am looking for.

I kept my son home from school today because it is his birthday tomorrow and we have a tradition. Once a year, around their birthdays (my son and daughter), I let them pick a day and we both stay home. We spend the entire morning and afternoon together, just one on one. It’s a great tradition and I am hoping that someday they will look back on their youth and remember these times fondly. Anyway today was my day home with my son and we had just finished eating breakfast. I made a tube of cinnamon rolls and he had 4 and I kept to two. That left two in the pan and I just hate to let food go to waste. I asked him to have another but he was clearly done. That’s when I had the thought, “I’ll just eat the last two and then try purging”.

Like it’s just that easy. Like it’s no big deal. Like the last 7 years of being “over it” had never happened. I wonder a little bit to myself it this isn’t what falling “off the wagon” feels like for an alcoholic. Just one sip, and it’s “so long, and see you tomorrow”.
After breakfast he went to go up to take a shower and I went to my room to do the same, only instead of doing that, I got into that all too familiar position, crouching in front of the toilet, and tried to “get rid” of those cinnamon rolls. You don’t need any more details other than the fact that it was horrible and a good reminder how ridiculous the whole thing is. Minutes later, I was stepping in the shower, disgusted with myself for trying. The rest of our day off was quite lovely, but now it is over and this is the dominant event of the day that I feel like I need to write through. I’d much rather be reporting on how I treated us to a new video game and got my butt kicked in Super Smash Bros. or how we watched “Venom” together and I fell asleep during the big, final fight scene.
I often have to remind myself that I am only human and that I am doing the best that I can with what I have. So I made a mistake today, but nobody ever got a medal for 9 days or 9 years of sobriety and nobody is ever going to congratulate me for getting over my eating disorder. I survived. I’m still surviving.

Tomorrow is another day and another opportunity to make good choices – better choices. Hopefully today’s experience was enough of a reminder of how terrible things were when I was “in the thick of things”. Will I ever be able to hush the constant hum of worry about my appearance? I certainly hope so, but I just don’t quite know how. That’s how the mirror tricks you, it makes you believe that if you become what you imagine to be your ideal self, then the worry will stop – that all the problems will be solved. If that seems like a fucked-up circle of thought, it is because it is.

And tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow,
~Miss SugarCookie

2019-05-02 The One About Food (and Parenting)

Yesterday was such a long day and I did not have a minute to spare. I spent most of the day at the Med Center parricipating in sessions and meetings and doing that work thing I sometimes do. I only had a break from that in the afternoon long enough to pick up the kids from school and get them home. Then it was back downtown for Happy Hour with my co-workers. That was the highlight of my day.

I got to meet two of my co-workers who drove up from KC and had a brief interaction with a former colleague from my last company who stopped in to say hi to the team. My boss is also in town and he’s connected with lots of folks in our little healthcare data sphere. It was a good evening.

It was such a mad-dash of a day that I didn’t have time to cook my kids dinner. We had what we call is a “fend for yourself” night. I try not to do this too much for a couple of reasons. First, I like to cook for my kids (despite how picky they are) and have a nice sit-down meal together talking about our day. Secondly, on our drive to school this morning I asked them what they ate. My son said “chips” and my daughter said “nothing”.

She said “I was going to make nachos but forgot” and followed that with “I don’t need to eat, it’s not like I’m going to die or anything”. I was like, wow.. ok. What was I supposed to say to that?!

How about “yeah, not for a few weeks anyway”. 😜 in that moment I felt like a parental failure (an oft felt thing in my world). She’s less than 2 years away from flying the nest and still hasn’t learned the value of a good, nutritional meal or how to “fend for herself”. Perhaps if she was left alone for a few days the story would be different, hunger would kick in, and she would be forced to “cook”. Cook is in quotes because their idea of making a meal for themselves is still microwaving nacho chips with cheese or eating an unpopped pop-tart.

My son wasn’t much better. To him I said, “chips are not dinner”. He knows that but is also lazy and flexing a minute of independence to do what he wants. Then I followed up with “tonight we are having a proper meal”. A declaration to alleviate my crappy feelings about the whole thing. It worked.. mostly.

I can’t feel too bad about the situation because I recognize that people, even one’s own children, have to figure things out for themselves. Hell, I was brought up with a mom who almost always cooked balanced meals, yet when I left home and went to college and then ran off to Vegas, I ate terrible for like almost 10 years. At Iowa Western my main go-to meal was French fries and dill pickles and I probably ate fast food or bowls of sugar cereal for most of my 20s. I don’t recall cooking much outside of spaghetti and enchiladas and hamburgers and hot dogs on the grill. Oh and my favorite meal of all time which was Original Kraft Mac and Cheese and Applesauce (still is high on my list of favorites, right below cheeseburgers)! 🍔 😉

I’m sure my kids will also go through this when they leave home. I just hope my voice gets some airtime in their minds as they start to make choices. “Eat some fruits and veg with each meal” and “breakfast is important”. I have my own nagging voice to deal with all day every day and have learned the importance of nutrition and taking care of one’s body. My inner voices are always arguing about it. What is needed is a nice balance, but it’s not always easy. I digress.

All this thinking about food is making me hungry. It’s not even 9am and I don’t typically eat breakfast until after 10 or 11 sometimes (so much for taking my own advice).

Today is a new day, and an opportunity to make better choices. I’m back to sitting at my computer at home to do my work and I’m very much looking forward to dinner with my people tonight which will be followed by a little writing time with my writing group which I feel I’ve abandoned for like a month. It’s time to get back into that, and more than just a few hours a week. Pretty soon now I’ll be registering for classes and that’s exciting!

It’s going to be a great day.

Happy Meal Planning,

~Miss SugarCookie

2019-04-17 Redemption – It’s the Little Things

After all my emotional ranting yesterday, one might think I would have felt better, but the sour day continued long into the afternoon. It was a frustrating work day and the pickup of the kids from school wasn’t much better. Traffic was hell and I almost died like theee times (not counting when I made my daughter drive). I was in no mood to go sit at a coffee shop with my son who was also in a foul mood. We have a 2 hour wait for my daughter to finish her after school activities and so we just drove home.

That means I did 3 round trips to the school yesterday and that equates to about 3 hours in the car. 🙄 The last “leg” home I had my daughter drive to start forcing her to learn the grid and be able to get around without google maps. These are skills that we used to get automatically because we did not have a personal computer giving us turn by turn directions.

She has resisted this because she seems to like to be chauffeured. She wants the independence and to drive the car when she wants, which is on her terms and that seems pretty random. That’s a teenager. I got another dose of “your music sucks” right away and because she was driving, she switched the input to the radio. At least she has pretty good taste (or similar to my own) so the station was good.

I have not ridden with her since she got her license and she has become much more confident and has already picked up some bad habits. Following to close and braking hard and fast when it feels almost too late. It was terrifying. I tried to coach her but she just brushed me off. When I tried to explain the main east-west streets she said nothing. Then I asked her “so which major street will we cross next?”.

Her reply was “I don’t know because I wasn’t listening”. Oh boy! As we approached home we had the “dinner” discussion where she turned her nose up at everything and refused to accept any suggestion. I’m over arguing in this topic and just let it go. I’ll cook and she’ll either eat it or not. /shrug

This all sounds so awesome.. I know!! So where’s the redemption??! Good things are worth waiting for I guess. 😜

After arriving home things took a turn. I helped my son with his last missing Spanish assignment and got a text from darling daughter that “spaghetti would be fine as long as it comes with crescent rolls and Dr Pepper.” I’ll take that compromise.

At dinner she had her soda and I had a glass of wine and we had great conversation. Jim had already eaten so it was just the three of us. There was smiles and jokes. It was like a ray of sunshine that broke through a very overcast day. Then they emptied the dishwasher without a complaint.

In the evening I had a lovely conversation with my friend Steph who now lives in Galveston. We’re trying to plan a girls trip or some visit to her new place sometime soon. Later, Jim and I watched a show and Z and I made brownies. The evening turned out really great. It was a nice reminder how quickly things can turn around, and how the little things do matter.

My daughter who constantly complains about food said it was the best spaghetti I had ever made. And I said “thanks to Prego”. She went on to describe some things they have made in in foods class and I asked her to bring home recipes she likes and we’ll cook together. I’m filled with hope once again.

Today will be another full day and I’m getting ready to finish my hour of cardio and get back home. I’ve got a mountain of work to do. Five weeks of contract left and I’m and counting down the days. I can’t wait to get back into my MFA and am very much looking forward to taking a class… but that’s a whole other blog post waiting to happen.

☮️ ❤️ 😊,

~Miss SugarCookie