Namaste, #38

B993DCD7-15BD-42D0-9D4E-77360C8F79B5
I still don’t quite exactly know what “namaste” means despite taking many yoga classes this year. But that’s not going to stop me from oversaying it. Or misusing it. I’ve lived thirty eight pretty darn full years. I used to think thirty year olds shouldn’t be in the club. Don’t even get my early-twenty year old self started on those creepy forty year olds sitting at the bar.
Well, things do change, thank goodness. When you start getting older, you realize how young old folks really are. Actually, you realize that your chroniological age doesn’t have much to do with who you are, who you love, and how you live your life. It’s just a number, not a definition. People always think I’m younger than I am. Probably because I act like a big goof or maybe because of my freckles or perhaps it’s a perk of my adult acne. A man told me yesterday, “you don’t look like you should have three kids.” Well, thank you, I guess. Although I do have a few gray hairs.
I thought I should write down thirty eight awesome things I did this year. I think I grew wiser and stronger. And I also recognized I’m weaker and not as smart as I once thought I was. Aging is a humbling process. And confusing. I think I don’t take it as personally having had Crohn’s disease for so many years. Weird things happen to your body when you get older. So what. Weirder things have been happening to my body for a long time. But. “Why, God, why the chin hairs? What is their purpose?” Anyways, my random list of questions for God grows.
I like lists when they don’t have “to do“ on the top. Unless I’ve secretly written the “to do” list after I’ve already done all the things. Those brutal “to do” lists always give me feelings of inadequacy. So, here is my “38 years done” list. I’m pretty grateful and proud and also extremely humbled and sometimes dumbfounded by all of the love that surrounds me, fills me up, holds me up, builds me up and sits right next to me on the floor. I got another year and that’s amazing. I can’t wait to live it up for my 39th year on planet Earth.
Here goes: 38 Years Done
  1. I used my yoga pants and yoga mat to take…..yoga classes. Say what? I love that standing tree pose and happy baby. The end meditation nap is amazing too. Namaste.
  2. My poor knees and I played basketball on a co-ed basketball team. I missed a lot of shots, said cuss words, but I had a lot of fun. My boys asked me if I could dunk. I told them “not in this league, it’s illegal.” That’s all they need to know about that.
  3. Oh man. What a year of stellar concerts. U2 with my big boys and Cory. Amazing. Ani Defranco with my hubs. Diana Krall and her busy tapping stilettos with my hubs. Brandy Carlile with some dear friends.
  4. I coached two of my sons’ basketball teams. I learned that I’m a loud fighter for injustice when a team, um, or Coach breaks the rules by running a zone. And don’t call me “sweetie.” I learned that some egotistical male coaches have a hard time shaking hands at the end of the game after losing to a female coach. Because of the beautiful, kindhearted, never-stopping fighting spirits of my players, we lost a lot of games but we won the sportsmanship award. The biggest win. I said, “chin the ball” about a million times.
  5. I held a fish. With it’s squirming rainbow scales.
  6. I lead a small group, met amazing women who shared their stories, months of life, and helped my family so much during surgery.
  7. We went to Disney world! We shared so many fun memories. Holy smokes, that Avatar ride. I felt like we could all say we rode on a banshee. Except Colby, please don’t talk about it to him. He feared for his life. Rightfully so. It seemed so real.
  8. I taught half-day momergarten which consisted of so many unforgettable moments with my youngest boy. We found deer antlers in the woods. We stalked-in a nice way- bald eagles and even saw one poop. We rode the Adams tag along bike to get lunch. I could go on and on. It was the best year!
  9. I learned that when my body makes something, it makes it strong, difficult to reach, and indestructible. My kidney stones would not be blasted by the lithotripsy semi-truck. $20,000 later.
  10. I learned that if there is a rare complication to be had with kidney stone surgery, my body will teach and humble the most intelligent and experienced of surgeons. I learned (again) that a mom’s instincts last long after the years that your child lives in the same home with you. My right kidney doesn’t have a big ass kidney stone living in it anymore. We’re still paying for the cost of it’s removal. I have a few more scars. I feel incredibly loved.
  11. I touched a stingray, mainly because my boys wanted me to.
  12. I volunteered with hospice. I prayed every time before I entered the doors. I painted nails, held hands, listened, cried, laughed, and also advocated for my patient to meet my boys before she died. So shut your face, HIPPA. If I’m in my nineties and dying, please bring all the children to me.
  13. I accidentally yet magically made eye contact with a hummingbird. It wasn’t a stare contest because I would have won. I had just put the feeders back up and she buzzed right up to get a drink. She looked at me. I froze. Then, she took a drink. Best moment of that day.
  14. My son and I blew up the inflatable kayak, aka “The Banana Boat.” My boys floated down the creek and I could have cried if I wasn’t so focused on making sure a snake wasn’t going to get me. They paddled and our dog swam beside them. It was a heaven on earth moment.
  15. We went to the roller derby! I asked so many questions to a roller derby girl. It was awesome. I decided my derby name would be “ Body Bag”
  16. The boys and I went to “Mother/Son Prom.” It involved lots of soda pop and dancing!
  17. We had a night at The Raphael and a downtown date night. A gift for my husband for ten years of employment.
  18. We took the train to St. Louis. We went up in the St. Loius Arch, not for those with fear of height and claustrophobic tendencies. We also spent a day at The City Museum, where we all got to be kids exploring, climbing and having so much fun!
  19. I dressed up as a unicorn, Skittles, with the help of my mom and sons. One of my son’s was the rear end and he sprayed silly string out because I was a shy unicorn that pooped when I got nervous. Unicorns are real.
  20. I got up on water skis. Water sports can be nerve wracking with an ileostomy. But they’re so much fun. I’m grateful to have patient and generous in-laws. My knees and back wondered what the hell I thought I was doing.
  21. I had acupuncture done to ameliorate my kidney pain. It was a pretty awesome experience. We have the most compassionate and kind-hearted healing chiropractor. She has helped me so much.
  22. My youngest son and I untangled a steel blue dragonfly that was trapped in a spiderweb. It looked hopeless but she sat on me for nearly ten minutes and allowed me to gently pull the sticky web off of her wings. She happily flew away when we got all of the spiderweb off of her. My son said she “peed a lot on me.” It’s not the first time I’ve been peed on.
  23. I have made beautiful life giving, soul-expanding friends who have helped me feel less alone and more comfortable being ever-changing, ever-feeling me. They have walked with me, talked with me, laughed with me, cried with me, sat with me and cared for me in such tender ways you wouldn’t know we weren’t boood sisters.
  24. I have cherished the time with my children and the unwrapped daily gifts they constantly give me. All of the kitchen table moments, playground moments, couch cuddling moments, basketball court moments, treehouse moments, the nighttime conversations, the hugs, the giggles, open mouth laughs, the tears. The questions. The answers. I love being their mother. Somehow as seemingly impossible as it is, I find the space to love them even more so than I did the last year.
  25. We said goodbye to our fourteen year old Gizmo dog. He’s been through so much with our family over the years. He loved us all and entertained the boys for years. We all sat together at the vet. We made slideshows and have cried many tears for him. We planted a tree in his honor.
  26. I got stuck in a dress (or two) in a tiny Nordstrom rack dressing room while my three boys laughed and laughed some of the greatest laughs I’ve ever heard. I ended up borrowing a dress from my mom. The problem with broad shoulders and three little boys as dress shopping mates is that you will probably not find a wedding dress.
  27. We danced and danced at one of the most fun weddings we’ve been to. During “Shout” when I was laying down on the floor, a woman asked me if I was hurt. Nope. Just getting realllllly into the “a little but softer now…” if somebody’s not ready to call 9-1-1, are you really dancing as hard as you can? Probably not.
  28. I read so many books this year. Oh, how I love to read. I should have written all of the titles down. I will try to do that in my 39th year. One of my favorite’s was “The Rabbi’s Heartbeat” because it spoke to my soul.
  29. A dear friend and I accidentally summoned the police for our mom shenanigans. Unbeknownst to us, a walker had called the Overland Park police on our attempts at a “first annual glow in the dark” nighttime Easter egg hunt. Apparently, it looked like we were lighting tiny fires in the woods (as we hid the lit-up eggs) The police didn’t end up coming. Another walker called them back. And our kids loved finding the glowing eggs. The forest looked absolutely magical as the eggs flickered in the night.
  30. We’ve had countless memorable late night dinners, goodbye dinners, birthday dinners, celebratory dinners, just because get-togethers. We have such a diverse group of fun, loving, laughing friends and family.
  31. We survived Cory’s Doctor prescribed vocal rest. I never knew how hard it would be on all of us not being able to talk to Cory for two weeks.
  32. We walked up and down the hill hundreds of times. Back and forth to the school, the playground, the baseball field, the creek. This quote from “UP” resonates with me. “That might sound boring but I think the boring stuff is the stuff I remember the most.”
  33. I’ve looked for lost boys’ shoes countless times. I’ve held too many sticks to count (that’s  what she said.) I’ve been a bar back/sous chef/LEGO assistant specializing in organizing the Legos by color. I’ve played dodge ball, dog monster, knock out, Sandlot baseball, and candy poker, of course.
  34. I, along with my six siblings, surprised my dad to be present for a huge award he received honoring the work and time he has devoted and volunteered for the Nonprofit business alliance. We were all so proud to sit at that table front center. We also laughed a lot. I may have made my sister wet her pantyhose. I won’t say which one.
  35. I feel like I should give myself credit every year for all of the pain, hardships, uncertainty of my physical health, Crohn’s disease and it’s tag-along friends. I’ve changed my ileostomy bag too many times to count. I’ve opened medical bills. So many medical bills. I’ve taken a lot of trips to the ostomy care center. It’s all I know but it’s still hard sometimes. And tricky. And never ending. Day by day. Thanks, Ben Stiller.
  36.  I admired the Kansas sunsets and the cotton candy clouds. The double rainbows. The wild flowers. The birds of all the seasons. The deer. The slap happy butterflies. I fed a baby rabbit. I love and appreciate the complexity and mesmerizing beauty of nature more every year. It’s such a quiet constant whisper of God’s presence and love.
  37. Lots of pressure for my last thing. I loved those around me in the best ways I could. I tried to be present, I prayed to be more. I hoped and dreamed and tried to be grateful even in the midst of the ditchy moments. I’m thankful for those who give me room to grow and patience for all of the ways I fall short. I’m the luckiest.

Homemade King Cake

image

Due to a bit of a scheduling glitch, or a general lack of a sense of meaningful or important dates, I’m getting scoped the day after Mardi Gras. Which means I’m on clear liquids today, Fat Tuesday. Dangit. It’s really not too big of a deal. I’ve learned to go without food on many occasions but it’s kind of a bummer. I told my husband yesterday that I was going to make a homemade king cake. He asked me if I wanted him to go ahead and pick one up at the grocery store too. Just in case. He was being a funny and thoughtful punk because he knows me. Pretty well. I laughed and was determined to make a better cake than the grocery store could.

I’m a strong believer that rarely will we be able to avoid the difficult, painful or even, sad times in life. I have learned its best to lament a bit, to feel the weight of it all, and then figure out how these times can strengthen us in some obvious or hidden way as opposed to weakening us. I’m no expert. Sometimes I’m just downright pissed and moody and I want to go to a “used body” shop and trade mine in for something better. Not flashier, but less problematic. One that will require less specialists’ care. Maybe I could even just swap out a few parts. Since this is not really an option, I’ve had to figure out how to be grateful for the body that I have. It’s all about choices. Even though I sometimes feel like I have none. I will always possess the choice of my attitude. Be it pissy, grateful, optimistic, realistic, pessimistic, narcissistic, or any combination of these and so many more.

When I walked my boys home from school yesterday, the cold, bullying Kansas winds blew right down to the bone seemingly freezing our faces off. My boys’ cheeks looked pink and chapped from the five minutes they stood outside of school waiting for me. And they were a little mad at me for not picking them up in the warm car. They complained and complained and near-cried as we trudged along up the hill.

I requested for them to stop for a brief talk, well, more like a mom lecture. I got down on my knees. I talked to them about how they have a winter coat. How they have a short walk, not a long walk. How they have a warm house to go home to with a bed. And food. Then, I talked to them about the people, especially kids, who don’t have any of these things. I told them that they will always have a choice in their attitude. They will always have an opportunity to complain or be grateful for what they have. I realize that they are just seven years old. But, I think they got it. They stopped complaining and picked up their paces to keep up with mine.

As I told my husband this morning that I can’t eat Mardi Gras food, I realized that I knew all too well that I have a few choices today. There was a lecture that was recently opened, still at the top of my inbox. I realized that I have access to doctors who can help me. I have the privilege of knowing countless inspiring, loving, and amazing people. I have pretty decent health. I should be grateful. I have the helpful and constant distraction of a loving family and thoughtful friends.

For today, I have clean, clear liquids.

I’ve also got a king cake to make. For the first time ever. And bonus, I won’t even have to eat it if it’s disgusting. Happy Mardi Gras!