Love in the Time of Kohler

Living in the woods with a well leads to lots of mineral deposits on one's shower head.
My husband took ours off, soaked it for a while, and then went to Lowe's to see what new shower head creations had come out in the past few years.
He came home with a double headed situation on which both heads had choices of streams and power and whatnot.

This is where the Opposites Attract Theory comes into play for the 972nd time in our marriage.

So after checking all settings, on my tiptoes trying to reach the thing, water spraying in my face, I decided on the: All of it come out of just one of the heads-strong enough to get soap and conditioner out of my thick hair- efficiency setting because LET'S GO PEOPLE! I GOT THINGS TO DO!

The next day I went to take my shower and both heads had water coming out of them again. One had a rain-like setting on and the other held a little more pressure. Very: Hey-Good morning-hang out and wake up-soothing you to a mode of awakeness to allow for a drive to work.

Up on my tip toes again, I switched it back to Kate. The next morning I, again, switched it back to Kate. Then, the next morning, it was still on the setting I preferred.
I thought, a-ha!
He has seen the light!
Mine was so much better.

A week later, the husband setting was occasionally re-engaged and I finally asked him,

"How do you decide which setting to use each morning?"
"I use the same one each time."
"No, sometimes I get in and it is still on my setting."
"That is because I love you and I switch it back for you."

"oh."

"Sometimes I forget to, but mainly I try to put it back for you."

"thank you."

"Because I love you."

hm.

So the next morning, when I had finished my shower, I set the shower heads to the way he liked them. By that time in my shower, I wasn't as light-headed and winded standing on my toes with arms over head first thing in the morning, so the struggle was gone. And as I did it I thought,

"I love him."

There are mornings we both forget to switch it. We sometimes joke that night how we weren't loved when we woke up to shower. It is the silliest and stupidest thing ever- and it is the realest and most important thing ever.

In our lives of long work days and children shuffling and cooking and cleaning and crisis fixing and exhaustion wrangling, we sometimes barely see each other. And when we do, we blurt the first thing we had to remember to tell each other. It isn't always, "I love you." It should be, of course. But...

I pass out at 9:20 pm. He goes to bed at 2am. Some days nothing was said or shared, and no hug and sometimes no goodnight occurs as we are trying to get our kids to bed and listening to their fears and worries that only come out at 9pm.

But in the morning I turn on the shower, and the water is all business and single-headed and I think,

"He loves me."

And then as I am about to turn off the water and switch the setting to the relaxing, it is going to be ok setting, I think,

"I love you, too."

And I know he hears it a few hours later when he wakes up, turns on the shower, and I am already gone. And I know he smiles, too.

"It Doesn't Make Sense"

"Mommy? Can I have a hug?"

My room was dark at 9:15 last night. I was ready to be alone with my sadness at losing a friend and all the grief that it had stirred up from the past.

My middle child had gone to bed in a huff. She was probably thinking how mad she was and how mean everyone was and how unjust the world is.

Then she probably thought just about how unjust the world is.

Then she probably thought, I need mommy.

She bent over the bed for the hug and began to sob, so I pulled her in bed with me and held her quietly while she filled my pillowcase with those tears reserved for sadness. So big and full of grief that washes down the face.

I let her cry.

After a few minutes she caught her breath.

"It isn't fair that people can be fine and then be gone!" she shook out.

"No. It isn't."

"And it isn't fair for people to die after a long time being sick because they are so tired."

"That is true, too."

"It doesn't make sense. Anyone can die at any moment."

And there it was. What a lot of us have been thinking.
You can hear that tomorrow isn't promised  and understand it, but you don't get it until you say "See you tomorrow," and that tomorrow doesn't come.

"Well, we can live our lives afraid of dying or afraid someone will die, but then we don't get to live our lives. We don't get any promises. Death is a part of our lives. And it is sad. It can be shocking which can take a lot longer to process. It can be time for someone to pass. It will always be sad. Sad also shows us what happiness is."

The tears quieted and soon I got a very wet kiss on the cheek. Her big sister came in for a hug, too, and then walked her little sister out of the room.

I know that this acute sadness will pass, eventually. I wear it in honor of someone who earned to be mourned so completely.

What I Did in School Today

Today in school...
I talked to parents and listened to their thoughts.
I talked to a child about my expectations, and he listened.
I freed a squirrel from a dumpster, flinging a door open and running away in convulsions.
I rubbed the back of a boy who was pushed down on purpose, "but that's ok".
I told the same boy that it wasn't ok, and he nodded his agreement.
I learned a mother's perspective on making hard choices for her child and why they worked.
I snorted so long and loud at lunch that children came to see what the noise was.
I had a conversation on how to handle the boy who sent a kid to the nurse with a carrot injury.
I saw through a master plan a student was trying to pull off.
Nope.
I watched the snow swirl around, surprised at its sudden appearance.
I held hands with a friend when I learned of the sudden loss of our friend.
Forever.
I rearranged classroom furniture knowing no change would change what I wanted.
I looked around my classroom and felt its every gift and comfort, given and received.

I'm 43 Years Old.

You know what is missing?
My feeling that I am entitled to anything.
I have lost 100 pounds with that realization in ego alone.
I earn the respect I receive.
I also don't earn the respect I deserve and oh, well.
I give the respect that is earned.
I sometimes give respect where it is not earned because that is how I was raised.
I don't lose any of my character that way.
I do not have to win.
And when I don't win, I haven't lost.

You know what I have learned?
The last word is often the wrong word.
Patience is hard to find and hard to hold.
(Therefore, a rare gem to not lose.)
Taking a beat before answering allows possibility to grow.
It also can be dramatic and effective.
There is always a reason and it doesn't get to be an excuse.
There is always a reason and take that into consideration.
Learning happens every day and every minute.

You know what I am embracing?
The grey hairs at my temples.
The wrinkles at my eyes.
The people who are kind to me.
The people who share wonderful moments with me.
The challenges when they appear before me.
The challenges I sometimes seek out when feeling brave.
The most boring and most challenging and most sorrowful and most joyful days.
Because they are a gift.
And that is only truly known when you've lost that someone you want to embrace.

I am 43.

First World Problems

Honestly, I have only been listening to the Starbucks cup debacle with one ear. I cannot give it more than that because it is about a cup with overpriced coffee in it and about not having a snowman or snowflake on it.
A paper cup.
It is about a paper cup.

While taking a road trip with my kids yesterday, my 12 year old asked me, "What are First World Problems?"
My response was, "A red cup."

I told the three kids what I knew about the cup controversy and how that is considered a First World Problem because meanwhile, there are people in the world who would just like a clean cup of water to drink. Just any old cup of basic need and yet someone is making a stink about their unnecessary  coffee cup for the next 2 months that they will add and add and add to our landfills. (I'm usually not all soapbox-y about stuff like that, but yesterday I was because....people are upset about a cup that is essentially trash while meanwhile, there are children rooting through trash to bring home food or fuel.)

I explained what a Third World was.

I explained the joys and simplicities we have as a family- our basic needs met and surpassed.

I explained that sometimes we get SO frustrated because a webpage takes forever to load and yet our bellies are full and we are sitting on our couch in a heated home.

I explained that it isn't always fair that the oldest gets the new phone or bike while the younger gets the hand-me-down, and yet we have bikes and phones and money to pay for that and funny thoughts to text and safe streets to ride around in.

I explained it is so easy to get wrapped up in the negative. To see only what  effects ourselves.
Our world.
First World.
And by taking a breath and enlarging our scope, one can always find perspective.

As we arrived at the huge retail candle mecca to make scented jars of fun, the conversation ended. My family is fortunate. I am not going to give my children a guilt complex or feel guilty about that. I just want to make sure that they see the forest through the trees; the world through the cups, so to speak.

And just in times for the holidays! (and paring down the wishlists)

Clothing Rants? Agaaaaaaaiiiiiin? (yes)

Walking out of the dressing room, you need the friend (that Steph!) that looks straight at your crotch.
"Hmmmm. No."
"No?"
"Almost, but Whisker Kitty."
"WHISKER KITTY!!!"

Our nemesis this year whilst cloth shopping has been the dreaded whisker kitty, probably not noticed by many. (Part of the importance of our noticing is that we both notice and can't abide the kitty.)
I'll spare you anymore suspense:

These pants are clearly just too big. But can you see whiskers in the groin area?

                                                       

 







 CROTCHSHOT! The whiskers are there!

This examples doesn't look as bad as what we encounter in the dressing room because we are at an outlet and that is where they sometimes put the creations of an angry or lazy cutter of fabrics. Where the newbie's sewing skills are sold. 

I get it. 

Doesn't mean I need to walk out of there thinking I am wearing slacks when I am, in fact, wearing an ASPCA worth of W. Kitty.

I have since bought on line a pair of my yummies yummers favorite- corduroys. The only color my dear friend Eddie B had left was a beige, but it was hugely discounted so yes. Thank you. Please.

Well, I just tried them on and they do fit me as they promised that they would fit like their line of jeans....but.....where is the lush? Where are the deep valleys and high rifts of swish swish swish? These aren't corduroys. They are textured pants. They are thinner than jeans so please do NOT sell them for Winter wear....but knowing they are cords I just can't pull them out in June! So shelf life season-wise and yet, not seasonal. My cords have gone the way of the burnout and the slub I have ranted about before.

And now, of course, I can hear my mother's voice saying, "Kathleen, you get what you pay for." But that is just it! They were selling for money! The whisker kitties had a big enough price tag, too. Slubs are costing money! But there is no longer the material to back up the price.

As always, my disclaimer- I am not a fashionista. I am terrible at spending money on clothes for myself. But I tell you, I have started perusing the sale tab on places like Peterman's, I bring in my fake ID so I'm old enough to go to Talbots, I am starting to invest in higher quality clothes. And I also know I will be that old teacher at the school that is wearing something very outdated and slightly faded because I am not throwing this full wale cords and non whiskered stuff out, and my mom will no longer be here to insist I buy woolite.

I could write a whole other post on butt flaps and other such fashion nopes Steph and I didn't put in our shopping bags of disappointment at the outlet....and maybe I will because......

BUTT FLAPS??

Not Yet.

I just dropped off my oldest daughter and her close friend at the school's Monster Bash 7th & 8th grade dance. There was a little hemming and hawing for a while this month about whether or not she was going to go. In the last week, there seemed to be a flurry of classmates asking or being asked out to the dance. Being fortunate enough to have a daughter that shares with me, I heard about some of the drama and the who is with who.

I asked her, "Do you wish that someone asked you to the dance?"
I really had no idea what her response might be. Only in the beginning stages of puberty and all that awesomeness, I wasn't sure where she really was with crushes and such.

She answered, "No. Not yet."

The maturity of her answer struck me. Not yet. She is not ready yet. She will be someday. She appreciates just watching it. There will come a time when she may feel left out. Right now, some chicken nuggets and macaroni with a good friend was all the date she needed.

I do and I don't remember this time in my life. I am fascinated watching middle schoolers all day at school and chatting more intimately with one at home. What was I doing at 12? Other than growing larger and carrying the literal and figurative weight that entailed. I wonder if I knew what I was and wasn't ready for. Was I aware that I had some say in that?
I feel like at 6th grade, I was a tourist in the world of puberty....not really going through it. Watching others' appearances change. I knew I was supposed to have a crush and grabbed one up in my mind to refer to. It mirrored most of the girls' crushes.
As for 7th grade- I can't remember any of it. I don't even know what homeroom I was in. It was a miserable year. As was 8th grade.

But today in school, I watched my 7th grader skip down the hall to do recycling.

As in-she skipped.

She holds such happiness. When I see her in the hallway, I am immediately at ease, comforted by her simple presence. I'm elevated by her excited wave "hello". I can breathe easy, fully understanding now that our children do not relive our lives.

Colleen holds more confidence than I had predicted for her, and I am burning the rest of the rough sketches I had of her in my head. She is a molding all her own.
I am quieted by this life lesson.

(A Colleen creation- she is obsessed with pandas)