Category: friendship

that one time at my surprise pity party…

Published on by Mae @ Rainydayinmay3 Comments

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There are a dozen-hundred things mulling about within my brain. It has been an awfully long month of march. Emotionally exhausting things which I, to tell you the truth, hadn’t expected to take their toll on me emotionally.

For one, while I knew that it would be challenging living in a partial renovation state, I underestimated how utterly exhausting it would be. When we work on a project, or bring some-little-something to the state of completion, I am elated. I feel a calm wash over me and a reaffirmation that we can do this. As my husband jet sets off to yet another business trip, and I’m here surrounded by boxes, tools and equipment though, this defeat rises like bile. It isn’t that I want it done right now, as much as I just want something done. Some space that is finished. Some area where I can drink it in and take solace that we’ll get there…

Then there is love… Though it’s not love, nor is she pretending it is, for which I am glad. My youngest has a crush. It’s months upon months old, but it has reached a dramatic climax over these past few weeks and emotionally I’m wiped out. Young hearts are being shaped and molded and her heart is special. She has certain struggles that others might not understand… Going through this has been so much more difficult than I’d expected.

I’m so far behind on a work deadline that I laugh and joke about my *insert air-quotes here*deadline because honestly I just want to curl into a ball and cry about it. I’m taking on another work project that I’m so unbelievably excited for, but I’m just a ball of ooey-gooey something over all of it… It is the right thing to do. Both are. They are my Best Yes decisions…  But I’m not sure how to get from here, (here= complete unorganized, overwhelmed and unsupported chaos) to there.

And of course- I’m so lonely. I desperately miss, not so much Idaho home (though the restaurants and boutique shopping here do not compare) but my people… I miss my people. March marked two years here and I’ve made a few surface connections. I am so not a surface relationship girl. Having a birthday and realizing that if I were to want a party (I didn’t), there is no one to invite (again) is a pretty crappy feeling… I want to be happy here. I love our house. My husband so completely loves his job. My youngest is likely as connected and adjusted as she’ll ever be. I want to not be sad for me, but it creeps up on me. My birthday month was really hard for that reason.

Then lastly, there is the whole birthday thing. I’ve never loved them. Not really. Not mine anyway… My preferred celebration is dinner with my husband and kids and time out with friends. So when neither of those can happen (I really, really miss my other two kids too) and my husband KEPT asking me what I wanted to do- I had nothing… No input, no opinion. Nothing. What I wanted to do was work from dawn til dusk on the house so the day sped by and we accomplished something, but he was only really home for a couple of days and that wasn’t fair to him. I realized, as I turned 39, that I have a list of things I want to accomplish before I’m 40 next year. I thought I’d share…

1) a getaway with my best friend. (so needed!)

2) complete a 5K. (either walking or running. Jury is out on whether my knee can run.)

3) speak in public. (even if it’s simply giving a toast or testimony)

4) do something that absolutely terrifies me. (ha! Other than speaking in public.)

5) become a regular at a restaurant, coffee bar or bookstore.

6) chase my dreams (career wise) without fear, this year.

7) travel somewhere I’ve never been before.

8) have a weekend away with my husband.

9) learn something new. (skill)

10) try hot yoga.

11) Make a new friend.

12) take a photo everyday for a year.

13) Take Gen to the DIA. (I love it there, but she’s never been.)

14) go to Mackinac.

15) get a new tattoo.

16) find a volunteer job.

17) make homemade ravioli.

18) can a season’s worth of produce.

19) get my passport.

20) write down my fears and then begin working on confronting them.

21) learn how to build a fire from scratch.

22) ride on a train.

23) mother/daughter weekend with my girls.

24) 40 random drinks or meals bought for 40 strangers.

25) go skydiving.

26) host a dinner party. (I used to do this all of the time, back when I had friends. LOL)

27) get to know our neighbors.

28) repurpose a piece of furniture.

29) publish a book.

30) get a new wedding set.

31) acquire a ping-pong table.

32) play real tennis, even if I’m laughably awful.

33) take 365 walks.

34) read 40 books.

35) see a concert of someone I really, really love.

36) see a Broadway show that I’ve never seen before.

37) attend a conference.

38) spend time with all 3 of my kids- together- and have family photos done again.

39) ride a horse (it’s been since my early 20’s)

40) make someone’s life consistently brighter/happier/more joy-filled/less stress-filled.

The moral of my March, and what I learned is that I don’t want to be sad about the sad things. I want to learn, love and grow. I learned that even when life is beautiful and there is a lot to be grateful for (and there really is) sometimes circumstances will be a little unpredictably sad and catch me a little off guard… but a new day, (or in tomorrow’s case, a new month) will come and brighten the prospects a little bit…

What I learned in 2014…

Published on by Mae @ Rainydayinmay4 Comments

IMG_0377As we pull up to the end of what has become one of the worst, (if not THE WORST) years in my 38 years of life, I thought I’d take a moment to share the lessons I’ve learned over these twelve months. I’ll be linking up over at Emily P. Freeman’s blog Chatting at the Sky.

– Being at your daughter’s wedding is a roller coaster of emotions that I don’t think any mother can really be prepared for. {at least this one wasn’t}

– I’m pretty ok with being a grandma at 38 to my daughter’s awesome new sons.

– Just because a large majority of people believe something is the easy way out does not make it so.

– Wearing a swimming suit, in a pool, that is now several sizes too big for you is inadvisable. (VERY, VERY inadvisable.)

– also inadvisable, when you have finicky hair like mine, is changing shampoos when you have one you really love. Big, BIG mistake…

– That my people are my everything, and when something scary, tragic, devastating or sad happens to one of them it may as well happen to me.

– A champagne massage is possibly how I want to celebrate every single milestone ever. Heaven.

– I suddenly hate cheese. And anything that has recently associated with cheese. And yogurt…

– That I have a STRONG dislike of granite countertops.

– That I will probably never be the daughter my mother wants me to be, that she will hate everything I enjoy and there is nothing I can do to control that.

– Likewise, I will likely never the person my kids want me to be. I’m trying to be ok with this too…

– no amount of passion, love or effort guarantees results/success.

– chasing people is only fun and affective when you’re under the age of 9, and on a playground.

– Being a writer is hard. Way harder than I perceived in 2013 and DEFINITELY more so than 2012.

– Podcasting is awesome.

– Churches in the area we live in now are seriously different from the other 8 states I’ve lived, and not different in a good way. It’s a major disappointment that our family is trying to reconcile with.

– I’ve grown to dislike moving, but worse is this 5 month purgatory of moving to who-knows-where…

– Friends can say some mean, crappy and insensitive things. Some friends say they’ll be there and never show up at all, (see: Chasing people above) but people are human and flawed. That’s ok. Step back, reevaluate. Some relationships are worth sticking it out, some are worth cutting them go…

– game nights are the best. Like mini-vacations, leaving your worries behind for a bit.

– I like less tv than ever. Sitting there too long drives me crazy.

– Newark New Jersey is like a completely different world than NYC, despite their close proximity.

– eloquently penned (& pinned) quotes and sayings on Pinterest are not always based in truth or healthy, even when if they may stir your heart to read.

– Some people live really nasty, and are completely unaware. We’ve walked through so many homes with our realtor that were absolute disgusting…

– lastly, I don’t need a fancy house or fancy stuff. I just want a home that is warm, peaceful and has a yard for my dogs, room enough for the bed I share with my husband and a room big enough for our dining room table to hold all our family…

hours & minutes…

Published on by Mae @ RainydayinmayLeave a comment

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On Tuesday I spent two beautiful hours in the place I feel the most of everything. I walked city blocks, took in the tree at Rockafeller Center, rode the subway downtown to grab a bite to eat and found I was more me than I have been in a really long time.

For those two hours there were no mortgage nightmares unfolding at a snail’s pace, while questions of where we would live and other adult style crises hung overhead. For those hours there was only the city, and thousands of others sharing in those same holiday sounds and the alive energy that is New York City. To be honest, before we navigated my car into the Lincoln tunnel I questioned if I even wanted to attempt a few city hours. It seemed so pitiful and teasing, but the way in which they filled me left me realized these moments matter and to seize them…

Yes, everyone else realized this long, long ago.

On the other side of that tunnel, (the very reason we were in Jersey to begin with) there was an ICU room at Rutgers, where we’d left our hearts. This perhaps made our New York jaunt a little lighter as well. Visiting hours gave us a free afternoon and sitting in a hotel room sounded like too much time to think, too much time to worry, too much… So, we adventured. If you’ve ever been to Newark then you know, adventuring there was NOT a wise idea, so the City was the obvious choice. (But, of course…)

I drove through Pennsylvania mountains yesterday, heading home to Michigan. As the miles spread between us and that hospital room, between me and that city, I was overcome with all of the things that matter and all of the things that do not. I italicize “home” because it isn’t for me. Even, aside from the fact that we technically, right now, do not have a real home. For Christmas I need to find a way to make peace with this idea of the two coexisting. For my husband, I do. He belongs here, and that means I must too. While I’ve tried in countless ways to make it home, I have to keep trying and finding new ways. This matters. My marriage, my family, my beautiful daughters, my son- whereever he is- my relationships, my writing… These things matter.

Why, at Christmas, do we get so caught up focussing on those things which often do not?

For Christmas I gave myself the gift of seeing that RC Christmas tree, something I have always wanted to do. Standing there, with every other smiling, selfie taking person, I realized there wasn’t a gift in the world I could unwrap that would mean more to me than that did. Even if it took $62 in parking fees and a $14 bridge toll to do it. Life is about the journey, the moments… We fill up, on the inside, with the moments. A cup of tea and a hearty laugh with a good friend can do more for the soul than a new sweater ever could, so why is the second one so more easily attainable it seems? This is a sad, sad part of today’s reality.

Yesterday, driving through those mountains, I soaked them in. No, they were not my Pacific Northwest mountains of Home, but they were mountains none the less. They were refreshing to my spirit and I allowed myself to fill up on them like I filled on the city. 2014 has been filled to the brim with some of the ugliest and hardest minutes and hours I have ever known, the worst being within the last few weeks. It took seeing someone we love become a living-breathing miracle to realize that I have to choose to not let my 2015 continue in such a fashion. Even if the trend sets similarly, I will take notice, adventure and savor.

The art of looking…

Published on by Mae @ Rainydayinmay1 Comment

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A few snowflakes dance on the outer side of my office window.

I sit here watching them waltz, kiss a bit and then chase each other down to the ground… It is snowing in such a way that it isn’t really snowing at all. Gen had hoped for a snow day because, honestly, she has (finally) reached that point in adolescence where she wants to fake sick and miss school. Since it took her becoming a Sophomore for this to happen, I began to question if it ever would. Tragically, (for her) the green grass outside and blustery seven flakes, in the late morning, do not constitute inclement weather. Not so tragic for me, I guess. I sit here thinking about the state of life. How sad things fill our news feeds every day, but when then are big unfathomable things that happen here on our own American soil they feel so much bigger.

Life feels heavy.

Days before Thanksgiving, the state of it all feels bleak. Dark.

And then I see commercials or ads for Black Friday sales and mention of how we need or want this, that and something else. More, more, more… I’m so sad because, you guys, we just don’t get it. Maybe for a window of time you get it, or I get it, but we as a people do not register that the way to make the dark a little brighter is simply to shed a little kindness and share some love. On a radio show this morning someone commented that this “Ferguson stuff is putting a damper on my Thanksgiving.” What? No, this person does not live anywhere near Missouri. Talk about missing the point of Thanksgiving in the first place.

While I typed my last blog post, 34 days ago, I’m sure I glanced up to see leaves dance outside of my window the very same way these snowflakes have been. There is something both beautiful and a touch magical about these dancing seasonal fragments of nature. My soul needs the wonder of their whimsy amidst the blackness clouding my phone, Facebook, twitter and internet feeds.

It took me looking up, from the bad though, to see this good. That’s how it is. Sometimes, we have to look up. Sometimes, we have to seek out the beautiful moments, but they are there.

Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday, but this year everything in me wants to hate it because everything I love about it is not present. I miss home, I miss my family and friends. Scrolling through photos of my nieces and nephews, my heart-felt homesick pangs like none I’ve had before. I have china and service ware for holidays that I doubt will ever be used again and I am the shallow sort of person who sheds real, hot, heartbreaking tears over this realization. All of that being said though, (and I’m not complaining, I’m just being real…) I’m looking a little bit harder these days and I am finding things to be thankful for…

Things beyond the:

– my amazing husband

– my wonderful kids

– my adorable, faithful canine companions

things like,

– a warm place to sleep, even if it’s only a temporary solution.

– clean water to drink, that does not carry disease.

– one really lovely weekend. We had a nice date, Chw and i, and we had a really fun family day. This was preceded and followed by home stress that neither of us have any energy or resources to deal with, anymore, but the weekend was divine.

– ridiculous conversations with my awesomely witted friends.

– Rudolph Christmas stamps. I’m not sending out Christmas cards this year (for the first year ever) but those stamps are amazing.

– the rains that came and took the snow (for now) away.

– sore muscles.

– friends who keep me accountable.

– cozy pajamas and flannel sheets.

– a thermometer that reads in the ear.

– tea, iced or warm.

Thanksgiving, the day, is in a few days. It’s Thanksgiving for Americans living in Boise, Detroit, Tampa and Ferguson. People have buried loved ones this week, or will prepare to. Thanksgiving is a spirit we need to embrace, to make the most of our moments, our people and our breaths… This is what I mean when I say Happy Thanksgiving.

Nearer my heart…

Published on by Mae @ Rainydayinmay1 Comment

unnamedFor quite awhile, my youngest was obsessed with Paris. When she turned twelve we naturally had a Parisian themed birthday party complete with French movies, a fashion show and crepes for breakfast. While I think visiting Paris would be lovely, someday, I never shared her obsession or wonder over the fantasy of what she believed Paris was. Her Parisian focus certainly did not come from me, but we homeschooled at the time and I think our lives (as such) blurred the lines between where Gen ended and I began in areas. Many of my friends assumed I loved Paris, and Gen simply mimicked me.

For one of my birthdays, amidst of France phase, my friend gave me a french coin inscribed with a phrase, (in French), a turned into a pendant and put on a chain. The inscription read “The joy of life.” It was very unique and I loved it simply because I love my friend, though honestly the French aspect meant nothing to me. Then, last year when we moved to Michigan, I lost it. I hadn’t realized consciously that I wore the necklace every day until I was forced to go a day without wearing it. I felt vulnerable and unprepared. One day, some months later, it mysteriously appeared in my night stand drawer. While that’s a whole other set of stories for another time, I can honestly say I’d never been so happy to see a piece of jewelry in all my life.

I deeply missed my friend.

It felt like home…

I took the necklace off, in Chicago, to put on something a little more fancy for a small date with my husband. Since that day, those weeks ago, I’ve made the knowing decision every morning NOT to put it back on. It felt to big, somehow. Like choosing to wear The joy of Life around my neck was simply more than I could take on in that moment.

Last night Chw and I had dinner with dear friends whom we hadn’t seen in years and years. They have walked the parenting road we walk now, and it hasn’t gone lovely for them. While they understand how hopeless and insurmountable life, right now, truly seems/feels, just talking with someone else who gets it was reassuring. I can honestly say, in all my life, I have never felt more alone. There are several ugly, regret filled conversations that have filled our lips these past weeks/months, but there is no room to dwell on such things. Instead we must stand up, brush ourselves off and move forward. The Joy of Life. I don’t know how to have it today, but I do know I’m in charge of choosing it.

This morning my husband flew across the country for work and I got up, got dressed, washed my face, walked my dogs and then came inside and put on my necklace.

The Joy of Life.

I will have to remind myself with every tear fall, with ever ice pick twinge to the head, with every second that reality crashes around me… but even in the seconds when I forget that I do have some choices and that joy is one of them, the reminded will be there whispering its French inscription to my heart. Not only tying me to such a truth, but to my beautiful friend and a time when motherhood wasn’t so overwhelmingly dark.