Anticipation

People tell me I'm impatient. I read the last chapter of mystery novels first. I read spoilers. The last week before Christmas is a nightmare! I'm really not impatient. I'm anxious.

I like to know how things are going to end so my stupid anxious brain can't think up the 100,000 possible things that could go wrong between now and the end. Until they officially all live Happily Ever After, the prince could fall and break his leg and end up in the hospital and get the warms for his nurse. You never know.

The last 2 weeks of August were a complete disaster for me. Allie Rae was starting school for the first time and I was a complete and total wreck worrying about what might happen to her. She might get stuck in a class full of mean girls. Her teacher might be an ogre and make her cry everyday. She might be too shy to talk to anyone and be all alone and in the corner all by herself!!! I don't think I slept a wink for at least the 10 days before she started school.

But you know what? She did great. She came home from school bouncing off the walls. She made 3 new friends the first day alone. Her teacher is so sweet and Allie really responds to her. She loves music and art class the best, buys her lunch from the cafeteria and has done so much better socially than I could ever have dreamed of.

It's not all perfect. She cried and hung on to my leg for 3 quarters of her soccer game Tuesday. I don't know what set her off. She really wanted to play and did really well at her first practices and even her first game. Tuesday was a fail, though, and I'm sitting here an hour before her next game with my stomach in knots wondering what the hell is going to go wrong tonight.

That's what I mean by tackling self-improvement this year. I'm already getting pharmaceutical help for the anxiety, which has made a tremendous difference over the last year. Now I just need to teach my old brain new tricks. Allie told me this morning that she would be on the field when I get there tonight and she seemed to be looking forward to it. We talked about how I don't expect her to be the best player on the team or to score 100 goals a game or anything. I was thrilled last Thursday when her foot accidentally came in contact with the ball on 2 separate occasions! I just want her to learn to be a part of a team and get a little exercise.

So I'm telling myself to relax. As long as she doesn't hang on me crying, tonight will be just fine. Anticipating disaster is the best way I know of to make sure it comes knocking.

So go to hell, anxiety. You aren't wanted around here anymore.

Well that's good news

I took a life expectancy quiz online and it gave me these results:

Life Expectancy Results

Life Expectancy: 90.63
Lower Quartile : 83.98
Median Lifetime: 92.69
Upper Quartile : 99.73

I'll take that. Can I get it in writing??

Book Recommendation

Since I can't spend the next 50 weeks talking just about me, I'll try to throw some other stuff out there.

Read Jim Beaver's book Life's That Way. It's painful and beautiful and hopeful and devastating all at the same time.

Fans of Deadwood know him as Ellsworth and fans of Supernatural know him as Bobby Singer. All I know is that having read his book, I'm a fan for life.

As Bobby Singer might say, "Just read the damn book, ya idgit!"

The Teresa Project

I just realized that I'm less than a year away from 40. How did that happen to me? 40 happens to other people. OLD people. I'm still young. I have a 3 and 5 year old at home. 40 year olds have teenagers, for crying out loud!

It also hit me as a careen towards the nursing home that there are some things in my life I'm not terribly happy about. I'm 20 pounds overweight. I have a meaningless job that bores me to tears. I know I could be a better wife and a much better mother. My house is a disaster most of the time.

So instead of wallowing in despair, I've decided to spend the next year shaking things up a little. Taking care of myself. Working on being a better partner, parent and friend. Thinking about escaping the safe little cocoon of my office and finding something I really love. Writing more. As you can tell from the start here, my writing skills are fairly rusty, but I did have some at one point. I did, I swear.

So here's to the next 50 weeks and 5 days. I've been in a funk lately, but I got this idea while I was on the dreaded elliptical machine at lunchtime today and I haven't been able to get it out of my head. Hopefully it's a good idea. Hopefully I don't drive myself and everyone around me crazy while I decide what I want to be when I grow up.