The Excuses We Make

Why was my last post on a blog that for the first year, I wrote something nearly daily, and the second year - which began on November 28th 2012, a dozen or so times per month... over a month and a half ago?

There are many reasons for this.

• The boys are (were) all still home for the summer and I was busy cooking, cleaning, living my life in wait of what they were going to be doing.  True story.  I believe we don't have that long of a life, so it's important to be a part of theirs - even if just a spectator in my own home.
• I was spending (and still am, though not as much due to the new job) a lot of time running and reading up on healthier habits - be it exercising, eating, way of thinking... growing, stretching.
• I was beginning to scratch the surface of looking for a new job.  I'd been off of work for nearly 7 months and got my house in near perfect order (which is about the time they all returned from school for the summer) and knew that it was time.  Simply put.  The Dad wasn't telling me I had to, and for all intents and purposes, I didn't HAVE to, but we aren't a family of unlimited means (uhhh... 3 kids in college?!?!?) where shopping all day or playing tennis with the stay-at-home socialites was never going to be my gig.  Ask my  mom.  I hate shopping.  UNLESS I know exactly what it is I want or need.
• I then... got not one,  not two, but three interviews the week after my last post here.  So I would run, come home, start laundry, clean up, shower, interview and come home and make grilled tuna sandwiches for the boys.  Or whatever they wanted, for whichever of them might be home.  
• I got offered the job I wanted, but then I got a different job offer at a second place than what I had interviewed for which made it super easy to go with the job I took. (yikes!  That's hard to follow!) There wasn't much of a question in the first place - honestly, because I was weighing location NOT institution.  But I let that torment me (and my time) for long enough.  I had accepted the first job offer as soon as I received it, but knew I could change my mind if the other job warranted it.  It didn't.  Everything happens for a reason.
• I started the job.  Where I used to  be the one running home at lunches to take care of the dogs, that now falls on The Dad's shoulders.  Ironically, we've traded places. When I worked for the school district I was 8 minutes from home.  At KAYU - 2 minutes.  The Dad was clear out at Liberty Lake and his commute was usually 30 minutes.  Mine, though equally as far as his in LL - is 22 minutes from the time I leave Starbucks.  I have 3 stoplights, 4 stop signs and a most gorgeous commute... no cars, honking, idiot drivers.  Just feels like "home" - going both ways!
• An out of town party.
• Getting stuff cleaned up for Blue Eyes move back to Coug Town.
• Getting stuff cleaned up for Wack's move back to 17th Ave.
• Getting stuff squared away (because it was a HUGE hassle and until I was working there and knew the exact thing for him to tell the appropriate people... sigh) at EWU for the final quarters of Electrical Engineering classes for #7
• Cleaning the house for bunco.
• And on... and on... and on....

I often had ideas or thoughts I wanted to touch on over the past 45 or so days but, by the time I got home - I wanted to connect with The Dad, my boys (if they were around) and my faithful four-legged friends who seemingly aren't sure what to make of having had me 24/7 for months on end to now, mere hours at the end of the day.  I see the questions in their eyes and then wish I had a money tree all over.  But the pay off is worth it, the retirement is worth it.  The drive that clears my mind of worries, fears, stresses on my way to work and on my way home... is worth it.

And that's where this story begins and ends.  The drive, the time that I get to myself has allowed me to stop the excuses.  Stop lying to myself if I have been.  Stop the madness and allow only those things that need me, my attention, my love to be what my life is all about.  

I had to let go of things that cause me unnecessary upset or worry that are outside of my control.  

• I can't control what people say about me, that don't really know me, to people that I know - who then choose to believe it.  So I came up with this:  Let them.  Let them talk, let them listen.  That there is character.  Jealousy.  Unhappiness.  It breeds contempt and ill will and for a time, in me as well.  But... it's not worth my heart, my time, or my happiness to worry about those people anymore.  When I explained this to The Dad - for once, and I was shocked - he agreed.  He's just as tired of the "reasons", the superficial responses, the choices and the things we've heard along the way.  We choose us.  We choose to surround ourselves with people who want to be our friends, who enjoy spending a night out, who celebrate with us, mourn with us and don't feel "obligated" to include us.  
• I can't control that something breaks and causes us financial stresses.  We just bought a new water heater.  It was long over due, but it was the gigantic puddle in the laundry room one early morning before I left for work that could have wreaked all sorts of havoc.  Instead - twice a day for nearly 3 weeks - The Dad and I took turns shop-vac'ing up water and dumping it each time.  Not to mention the 2 loads of old towels I washed and dried each day to keep up with the leak.  In years past - this kind of thing would have caused me to be able to flip moods on a dime.  Less than a dime.  Sad... but true.  But as a team - we worked on the short term remedy until we could make the water heater happen.  I don't remember one raised voice about it.  Not even the frustration.  What good would that have done?
• I can't control... people.  And I don't want to.  It's so much easier not worrying about what other people do.  What they say.  Who they are with. When they leave. What they wear.  Who their friends are.  What they eat.  How much they weigh.  Where they work.  If they work.  What I can do is support them, feel for them, rejoice with them, cry with them.  That being said - I choose to do this for and with the people that are pretty much anyone BUT the people in bullet No. 1.  I think that's fair.  I can however, forgive the people in #1, but that doesn't mean it will ever be the way it might have been.  Could have been.  Was.  
• I can't control when my dogs get sick.  My kids make a choice I don't want them to make. The weather ruins my outdoor plans for the day.  A friend or relative doesn't like me.  The power goes out.  The water heater breaks.  The boys' car needs something that costs $342 that I wasn't expecting to pay.  Someone never likes my instagram posts - on purpose and I hear about it.  My tickets didn't come on time. The plane was late.  They ordered the wrong prescription.  I forgot my lunch.  They made the wrong drink....

I have learned, and it sounds crazy... in 45 days... (honestly, over the past few years)  to just roll with it.  To be honest and expect the same in return.  If I don't get that - that's not my choice, that's theirs.  To care and be cared for.  To love and be loved and remember - though I have to say it to myself very often - that everyone has something going on in their life that they don't want to share with others.  And those that share everything - they do too.  

I said "reasons" above - but what those reasons really are - are excuses.  We've all made them and occasionally we lose out for some we've made, sometimes we are hurt by them - mostly "excuses"  or lies or ??? are that term we've all heard - lame excuses.  

Mine listed above for not writing - were not "reasons".  They were excuses I gave myself to just not get on the computer again at the end of the work day.  But ironically - I have one last "excuse" to rid myself of.

I left The Bookface as a goal, a challenge to myself to get off of the social media giant - time suck.  I went from posting tidbits here and there to growing some sort of farm, playing bejeweled, then there was some sort of diner I think I was building... and of course looking at what my 366 (I have no clue) "friends" were posting, their photos, the "creeping" the kids talk about.  I made the goal and then I made the challenge to go for it for Year 2.  November 28th is right around the corner and I could re-up for Year 3 but - in a conversation I recently had with dear old dad - after he mentioned if I'd seen something on The Bookface - I had to explain that I wasn't on The Bookface and that I hadn't been and then... I said this... "The Bookface (though I think I called it it's real name) is just a platform for people to brag about themselves, their kids, whine about crap and garner attention.  If the people that post on it want me to know what's going on, they'll tell me. No one communicates anymore in person or an actual phone conversation."  This is a big "What's wrong in the world these days?" in. my. opinion.

On my drive home - it hit me.  My blog has been the same thing for me.  I've bragged. Whined.  Cried.  Laughed.  Berated.  Angered. Befriended.  Thanked.  Loved.  I've done all of that too.  Here.  On this blog.  This blog was more than my excuse to get off of The Bookface. It was my excuse to brag more in depth, post more in depth... 

So this is it.  My last post.  

"Your time is limited, don't waste it living someone else's life.  Don't be trapped by dogma, which is living the result of other people's thinking.  Don't let the noise of other's opinions drowned your own inner voice.  And most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition, they somehow already know what you truly want to become.  Everything else is secondary."

~Steve jobs