Keeping Pace

Keeping Pace

Archives for May 2012

alpha face-off

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Lil Yelp is back in town — visiting us for the summer.  He is bigger than life and filled twice the energy.

He arrived with a bang; dropped off by a young woman and her little girl who seemed overwhelmed and a little too eager to get rid of him. The conversation went something like this:

“Um. It might be easier if I let him out of the crate and then lift if off. Are you ready for him?”

“Oh, sure.”

“O-kay…”

[out jumps a wriggly wild thing moving around at warp speed like a tasmanian devil]

“Oh dear. [To dog: “SIT”]

“Good luck with THAT!”

“What? She (BoBo’s girlfriend) said he sits, stays, comes, and is potty trained.”

“Yeah. I’ve yet to see ANY of that.”

I had no choice in the matter. I had to accept him AND I had to let him in my house. [Read more…]

Sweat Art

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In my previous life, I got a little grossed out by icky-drippy sweat. Fortunately, I suppose, the me of those yesteryears didn’t do a whole lot of sweating. These days, however, I’ve made sweating a new form of art.

I start by rolling out my mat like a canvas. Next, I close my eyes and set an intention. Then, I let the magic happen.  As I flow from pose to pose, my creative juices begin to ooze from my every pore until it has build up to a slippery mess. With the hard work behind me, I put the finishing touches on my work. Searching for the parts on my canvas that have remained unaltered for those final poses until the moment where I can finally lie back and bask in the satisfaction of a job-well-done.

Finally, I sit back up, rejoice in song, and rise to examine my creation…

Sweat Art

my sweat art

 

Peets & my peeps

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AF Joe

Each weekday morning, I stop into the local Peets Coffee & Tea for my daily latte and my fill of chit-chat with my peeps. The same folks that arrive, more or less, at the same time as me. Some are always friendly, others not. They are the most like to drop the door in your face and, in all likelihood, have been spinning 85% of their brainpower on work for greater than an hour’s time.

Then there are the rest. Toddler toting mommas, retirees, and folks such as me who just need a little morning chatter to get the work day off to a good start. They gather in front of the store, greeting the coffee connoisseurs on their way in, wishing them a good day on the way out.

Old man Joe, for some unknown reason, is one of my favorites. He’s just one of those real live people who says it like it is. I like that.

And I also like that he calls me “kiddo.”

*yawn*

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We’ve been real tired ’round these parts. While the other schools in the area have wound down, YaYa’s school seems to have caught a second wind so-to-speak. Seems like every day this week there has been 1-2 tests on the books and a crap load of homework as well. Meanwhile, he’s still trying to find time to finish the backlogged make up work from the time period of illness, fractured bones, and dying family.

I honestly don’t know how exactly that translates to my being tired, but it does. I mean, I’m not doing much in the way of helping him complete his work. I am only doing the hovering mom thing: providing food, drink, moral support, and early morning wake up calls.

Last night, after picking up the clusters of clutter, paying bills, and other essential tasks, it was way past midnight when I discovered the boy curled up in fetal position in the middle of his bed (sideways). The iPad with his electronic flashcards was to one side of him, and his history book on the floor with his blanket. It was clear that he’d fallen asleep in the midst of it.

I got him straightened out, pulled the covers over him, and turned out the lights. “Good night, Mom,” he mumbled, “I love you.” I kissed him on the forehead, feeling grateful for my amazing son, and said, “I love you too. Good night.”

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