Keeping Pace

Keeping Pace

Archives for May 2014

1 year down and 3 to go

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A week ago, I was gnawing on my fingernails as YaYa sat for final exams to close out his freshman year of high school. His preparation included 4 hours of additional tutoring focused on the exam material for Algebra, English, and Science. He ran through a bit more of his English quizzing with me but the remainder of the studies sat with him. Although I offered many times, he did not take me up on my suggestion to run through the Science material.

And in the end, he passed…but NOT with flying colors by any means.

We are told that we should expect things to step up in intensity in the Sophomore year. Apparently, if he gets through that, he will do well from there on out.

Who’s watching who?

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bird overhead

In the canyon, one must keep an eye on their food at ALL times. This bird liked what he was seeing coming out of our packs at lunch one day.

“Bird Watching” now has new meaning. He kept a close eye on us and we kept a close eye on him.

walking therapy

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Yesterday, I was overwhelmed with feeling fat. Today, I decided to do something about it…

I went out for a walk during my lunch break. This was not the usual 30 minute leisurely stroll. No! This was an hour long, arm swinging, heart pumping, hair blowing sort of walk on the streets surrounding the office. And if the walk itself didn’t have a way of transforming my mood, the honks, waves, hoots, and hollers definitely did.

It’s therapeutic. I think I’ll go again tomorrow.

Cacti Smacktie

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One of our guides leading the Grand Canyon hike suggested that we call Cacti “Cactuses” instead. He said that “Cacti” just sounded weird. Quite frankly, they both do.

cacti

But they are definitely cool looking, especially when they’re flowering.

Mother’s Day Mumblings

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This Mother’s Day was altogether different from years past. I woke up alone and overwhelmed with loneliness. While I knew that I was not exactly alone, knowing that I had received everything I was going to get for Mother’s Day already, had a way of making the day feel less joyful. I glanced at the delicate black friendship bracelet that YaYa had made for me the night before and smiled remembering his efforts to relearn how to make it. I knew I was being stupid for feeling sad, yet I couldn’t seem to shake the emotion.

In years past, this day would have been one where I was ordered to remain in bed while my loved ones pulled together coffee and breakfast for me. The intended “surprise” tended to be anything but that, with the kids arguing on the way up the stairs over who would be the one to open the door and who would get to hand me the flowers they’d picked from the garden. I think I got more joy in hearing these conversations than the breakfast and gifts they had for me; nothing beats a son’s heartfelt want to express their love.

Deep down, I know that I have it all wrong. It’s not supposed to be about my children expressing their love for me, it’s supposed to be about how I can express my love for my own mother. The fact that I wanted it both ways was troubling me — and yet for the majority of the day I could not put my finger on the reason why.
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