Quiet brings ramblings in the rambler

It's getting late. I can't recall the last time Kyle went to bed before me. He only goes before me when he is sick, as is the case this evening.


The kids are both sick too.

I took Cate back to Urgent Care this afternoon--her second trip in five days. Her fever would never go away. Finally, an ear infection was detected today. Poor girl. She was out three days of school last week and missed her first school Valentine's Day party, a school Sock Hop, her basketball game, her date with Kyle to see a play at the Children's Theater and she is now 0-for-2 on attending friend birthday parties. For the most part, she has been a real trooper. And of course, every time she so much as coughs to clear her throat, I get paranoid about her potential of having an asthmatic reaction.


Oh, Urgent Care clinic and Pediatrics office...just retain my bankcard number on file, okay?

But the quiet is nice. I'm not a morning person. No, I also believe if I tried to wake up a few minutes early to seek some solitude, it would not happen. Surely, I would hear the sound of tired little feet tripping my way, climbing up onto the couch and curling into the bend of my legs. It would be nice, but it would not be the quiet that is my companion at the moment.

It seems odd to think the hum from the lightbulb and the click-click-clicking of the handheld keyboard can be so comforting; an even more odd notion of comfort is the never-ending dull roll of the airplanes above arriving to and departing from the airport nearby.

This quiet gives me time to think. I can choose to freak out about everything I should be doing and fret about what I can't control or I can turn it around; let it go and be the best I can be each day, by being good not only to others but also to myself.

I think I am seeing progress here...

Tomorrow is coming, whether I like it or not. I choose to like it.

Now this is what I call progress

The linen closet is complete. I couldn't go to girls' night tomorrow night and face Jessica if I didn't get it done.

The Skeleton in My Closet

Jessica, close your eyes because I think, given your tidyness and organizational tendencies, you may break out in hives if you see this picture.

I have been talking about cleaning out and organizing my linen closet for some time. It's the closet next to our bathroom and we open it multiple times daily. Everyday I open the door to get something out and I think, "this weekend will be the weekend I will clean this up."

Some days I am absolutely positive that if I could just clean and organize this linen closet, the rest of my life will be set in perfect order as well.

Well, this weekend is not the weekend it will get cleaned. We will be on our semi-annual trip to Duluth, which is always more therapeutic than cleaning out a closet.

Maybe the following weekend...

Tuesday

I am laying in my room with Max monkeying around. He's supposed to be napping. I don't think it will happen though.

A few fish have been caught already this week, but no keepers. Some money has changed hands as cards have been played. The kids have enjoyed the pool and the park. We have craft time this afternoon where Cate gets to make a tie-dye t-shirt for a whopping two dollars.

I have been running the gravel road. It's a surface I'm not real comfortable with, but it doesn't really matter. There's a 2-1/2 mile rolling hill stretch up to a two lane highway I have jogged twice this week. I think I will get in one more run on Thursday.

The runs have been the highlight of my vacation. I left work Friday with some very loose ends and the running in solitude is helping me reflect on what to do, how to fix the situation, whether it can be fixed or if it is too far gone to see it to the end.

So I am trying to relax. I am on vacation. And since I am in the woods, away from most civilization, I can't do much from here. I need to accept I can't control everything and that collaboration is key to figuring it all out.

Speaking of control, Max is out of bed. I'd better go wrangle him back over here...