Friday, September 14, 2018

Short and... Short

I went to bed exhausted and had vivid dreams about the kids being small again (and Matt wearing pink shorts, for some reason), and right now I don't feel like being rational and adult and phlegmatic about the whole thing - I feel like life has played a giant mean prank on me - here, have these tiny people, they're awesome and funny and will make you see whole new worlds, but they're also a giant pain in the ass so you won't be all that sad to see them go. NICE ONE, LIFE.

I've been trying really hard to live in the moment, realize that tomorrow is not promised, embrace the chaos - all your standard clich├ęs. Being at this age where celebrities die and I'm surprised at how old they are and how young they still seem, seeing my parents getting older, feeling more and more mortal - I know how fast things can go if you don't pay attention. The thing is, they go fast even if you DO pay attention. And it's hard to know exactly HOW you're supposed to embrace the moment. I keep looking up from my book, seeing Lucy disappearing into Eve's room and trying to capture that moment - Eve still living here, Lucy still being alive, being halfway through this book instead of through five more - and then what do I do with it? I'm perimenopausal, I can't remember why I walked into this room, how am I going to keep all these moments? And then the moment you've captured the moment, you're into the next moment. It makes me start to feel panicky and weird. And panicky and weird is my default, I don't need to be piling on addition panic and weirdness.

Also, my allergies are turbo-charged and tyrannical right now. Wednesday as I was trying to get ready for my new job, about which I am ecstatic and excited, my right eye was watering so much it was like trying to stick a contact lens on a waterfall. I went through half a box of kleenex before stepping out the door. Is it possible to be mindful and grateful while also being unbelievably snotful? Well, yes - but it's a little less poetic.


5 comments:

Steph Lovelady said...

"I keep looking up from my book, seeing Lucy disappearing into Eve's room and trying to capture that moment - Eve still living here, Lucy still being alive, being halfway through this book instead of through five more - and then what do I do with it? I'm perimenopausal, I can't remember why I walked into this room, how am I going to keep all these moments?"

You captured that one by writing it down. I can't tell you how often I'm trying to remember something from before 2007 and I have to say, "I don't know. I wasn't blogging yet then." I do go back and re-read the old ones but I find just writing it down helps me fix it in my memory.

Common Household Mom said...

Yes, yes, yes, to all of this.

And I really love this explanation of our lives as parents:
"here, have these tiny people, they're awesome and funny and will make you see whole new worlds, but they're also a giant pain in the ass so you won't be all that sad to see them go."

Sorry about the allergies. My eyes get watery, and then at night they get so dry it feels like they are full of sand. It's probably some dire medical condition but I don't have time to go to the eye doctor because of kids, and elderly relatives, and saving democracy.

Yeah, who has TIME to live in the moment?!

Best of luck with the new job!

S. Laureen MacDonald Farnam said...

I blame it on the Costco phenomenen!

How can we live in the moment when fall Mums, Frankenstein's monster, and Frosty the Snowman are all in store at once?

Consumerism is making us all stressed out. How can we "be here now" when so many visuals are saying "you are falling behind"?

Exhausting!

Meanwhile, I always enjoy seeing your blog posts.

S. Laureen MacDonald Farnam said...

*phenomenon

Obviously.

Ugh.

Nicole MacPherson said...

Okay, so I totally laughed - being in the moment. It's true! What next? But sometimes I just think it's all about noticing those things that you notice, and having a moment of gratitude or thankfulness, and then moving on :) Love you!