As of yesterday's weigh-in, I'm down 32 pounds. Compared to the total I have to lose, I'm just scratching the surface, but there are some significant changes going on in the old bod.
Most startling, for sure, when I catch my reflection. The girl looking back isn't the same girl who turned the calendar to 2008. She's ... leaner; prettier; healthier; more fun; happier; and yes, smaller.
This morning, I was standing in the studio waiting for salsa/funk class to begin when that realization started to wash over me. I looked tall and confident. Even with my freshly washed face and bed-head hair, the woman in the mirror was not mousy, frumpy or ugly. She was alive and she was ready to dance.
I hope I never forget that feeling of re-discovering myself. I think it's a gift we can give to ourselves.
Other gifts I'll enjoy this weekend include strolling through the Promenade of Art, which is happening just blocks from the penthouse here at the Palace, breakfast in bed (sans homemade scones, unless I make 'em myself!) and clean sheets. And honestly, isn't that a recipe for the perfect weekend?
Saturday, May 31, 2008
Thursday, May 29, 2008
Unanswerable Questions
Sometimes, they just hit me - things I wonder about that just can't be explained. For example:
Why does cat food smell so heinous? It's made of food things, but it smells like something decidedly unfoodly. It's nasty, yet The Boys love it.
Why do the gay boys always have perfect tushies? Not that no straight men do - hello, Nemo? But come on. I think the ratio of gay perfect booties to straight perfect booties is decidedly whack.
Why do I insist on using words like "whack?"
Where are those soft pink socks? They were perfect, and usually when I lose socks, I really just lose sock. But this is an entire pair, gone. Oh pink socks, how I miss you.
How did I manage to hurt my favorite muscles? You know, the inner thigh ones - the adductors, the ones that usually only hurt when you've had lots of good times in bed not sleeping. Well, I haven't had any of that, and I didn't feel like my hip-hop class really worked 'em, but today they are screaming. It kind of feels like I made lots of whoopie but don't remember it. Kinda makes me miss college.
There are more, but those are the biggies for tonight. I'll continue to ponder. You continue to be cute.
Why does cat food smell so heinous? It's made of food things, but it smells like something decidedly unfoodly. It's nasty, yet The Boys love it.
Why do the gay boys always have perfect tushies? Not that no straight men do - hello, Nemo? But come on. I think the ratio of gay perfect booties to straight perfect booties is decidedly whack.
Why do I insist on using words like "whack?"
Where are those soft pink socks? They were perfect, and usually when I lose socks, I really just lose sock. But this is an entire pair, gone. Oh pink socks, how I miss you.
How did I manage to hurt my favorite muscles? You know, the inner thigh ones - the adductors, the ones that usually only hurt when you've had lots of good times in bed not sleeping. Well, I haven't had any of that, and I didn't feel like my hip-hop class really worked 'em, but today they are screaming. It kind of feels like I made lots of whoopie but don't remember it. Kinda makes me miss college.
There are more, but those are the biggies for tonight. I'll continue to ponder. You continue to be cute.
Monday, May 26, 2008
Breakfast
There's nothing like waking up to a marching band. Once I figured out it was just the Memorial Day Parade, and not a drum and bugle corps warming up in my bathroom, I got up to sit by my window and enjoy a little breakfast and java.Pictured here is the last amazing blueberry chocolate chip scone, courtesy of one Janie Early of Hermiston, OR. Janie knows the way to my heart is via my tastebuds, and she never disappoints. The beautiful green rose coffee mug is part of a set of four, also from the Early family. So the universe has Janie, Chris and Liam to thank for the fact that I am somewhat awake and coherent today.
Happy Memorial Day, everyone. Or, since it's May 26, happy my dead mother's birthday. Whatever you're celebrating, do it with a smile on your face and people you love around you. That's how my mom and Janie would want it.
Indiana Jones and the Suburban Euphoria
This was my day to do with as I pleased. No commitments, just a full 24 hours stretched before me. I slept late, treated myself to breakfast in bed, (mmm, scones!) watched a little television, did a little work on a freelance project I'm working on, went outside and laid in the grass (because the weather was way nicer than the forecast said it was going to be) and finally got dressed at around 4, at which time I did a little grocery shopping and made myself a fabulous dinner. (Pasta, sausage, sun-dried tomatoes and asparagus ... I am a god-like chef.)
My indulgence of the day was a trip to the movies with none other than Cute Brian. We went to see "Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull." So much fun, I can't really tell ya. It just worked. No, Harrison Ford is not to old to pull it off. And seeing Marion again was worth the price of admission. Plus, that damn Shia LaBeouf made me nostalgic over River Phoenix. What a perfect addition to the ensemble.
After the movie, we walked out of the theater and just breathed in the air. It was that early summer air that smells like rain is just beyond the horizon. We took a little walk around the complex, just enjoying the night. Brian had a rough day - he was supposed to be at a barbecue in Kenosha, but car trouble mandated that his plans be altered. His misfortune became my good luck, but I still felt bad that his plans imploded. So imagine how good it felt to hear him say, "ya know, this has turned into a good day."
I love that sometimes I can be a part of someone's good day. I love that sometimes just showing up is all you have to do to start erasing the crap. I love that I have friends I can do that for, who also do it for me.
And while I'm on the subject of stuff I love, I love that the windows are open and the rain is falling. I love that it held off until I got home. I love driving with the windows down, feeling the wind in my hair and smelling summer.
It may not be perfect, but I love my life.
My indulgence of the day was a trip to the movies with none other than Cute Brian. We went to see "Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull." So much fun, I can't really tell ya. It just worked. No, Harrison Ford is not to old to pull it off. And seeing Marion again was worth the price of admission. Plus, that damn Shia LaBeouf made me nostalgic over River Phoenix. What a perfect addition to the ensemble.
After the movie, we walked out of the theater and just breathed in the air. It was that early summer air that smells like rain is just beyond the horizon. We took a little walk around the complex, just enjoying the night. Brian had a rough day - he was supposed to be at a barbecue in Kenosha, but car trouble mandated that his plans be altered. His misfortune became my good luck, but I still felt bad that his plans imploded. So imagine how good it felt to hear him say, "ya know, this has turned into a good day."
I love that sometimes I can be a part of someone's good day. I love that sometimes just showing up is all you have to do to start erasing the crap. I love that I have friends I can do that for, who also do it for me.
And while I'm on the subject of stuff I love, I love that the windows are open and the rain is falling. I love that it held off until I got home. I love driving with the windows down, feeling the wind in my hair and smelling summer.
It may not be perfect, but I love my life.
Saturday, May 24, 2008
It's been a full day
Woke up early, hit the gym. The 9:30 salsa/funk class rocks. Then it was home to do laundry and unfairly accuse a friend of being an asshole.
Leave it to me to forget that, since I go to the gym almost every day, I needn't get all my exercise jumping to conclusions. I apologized. After three hail Marys and an act of contrition, I've been forgiven; the slate is clean.
Once the laundry was in, it was time to settle in to a couple of cups of coffee (out of the green mug) and the ultimate decadent treat - chocolate chip scones, courtesy of the Pacific Northwestern branch of my family. It is entirely possible to be hugged all the way from the west coast. I know. I felt it.
So tonight, I treated myself to a quiet dinner with someone I love: Me. I went to my favorite restaurant, Fuego, for a couple margaritas. I would happily recommend a Pasin on the rocks (passion fruit margarita, because everyone needs a little passion in their life, even if they have to pay for it!) and the Camarones a la Diabla (which I think is Spanish for "Shrimp as Big as Your Head.) It was so delicious, and there is something delightful about sitting at a table for one and taking all the time I want because it's late and they don't need the table back any time soon, so I can sit and watch the world go by outside the window, as smiling people pass by, enjoying the clear, beautiful night.
The company wasn't bad, either. Too bad I was too full for flan.
But there's always next time.
Leave it to me to forget that, since I go to the gym almost every day, I needn't get all my exercise jumping to conclusions. I apologized. After three hail Marys and an act of contrition, I've been forgiven; the slate is clean.
Once the laundry was in, it was time to settle in to a couple of cups of coffee (out of the green mug) and the ultimate decadent treat - chocolate chip scones, courtesy of the Pacific Northwestern branch of my family. It is entirely possible to be hugged all the way from the west coast. I know. I felt it.
So tonight, I treated myself to a quiet dinner with someone I love: Me. I went to my favorite restaurant, Fuego, for a couple margaritas. I would happily recommend a Pasin on the rocks (passion fruit margarita, because everyone needs a little passion in their life, even if they have to pay for it!) and the Camarones a la Diabla (which I think is Spanish for "Shrimp as Big as Your Head.) It was so delicious, and there is something delightful about sitting at a table for one and taking all the time I want because it's late and they don't need the table back any time soon, so I can sit and watch the world go by outside the window, as smiling people pass by, enjoying the clear, beautiful night.
The company wasn't bad, either. Too bad I was too full for flan.
But there's always next time.
Friday, May 23, 2008
My own personal spa
It's Memorial Day weekend. Three blissful days that are - theoretically, anyway - all about me. I thought perhaps I might take a wee roadtrip this weekend, but the plan never quite came together, so home I stay. And home, it turns out, really isn't a bad place to be.
Work, for those of you who didn't know, has been giving me the old-fashioned ass-whooping over the last few weeks. The end is in sight - in a few weeks, the powerful people will be at Conference and my contributions will be final until the next crisis. But for now, I have three days stretching before me to do with as I please.
And I will please go to the gym. I will please give myself a pedicure. I will please wear sandals, even though it's really not warm enough. And I will please be grateful for the change of seasons, the love of good friends, for beautiful cups from which my morning coffee will be enjoyed (thank you, Early family) and for anyone who cares to grill me up a little love in the form of a burger or brat. I will drink green tea, wear comfortable clothing, and pretend I am at a swanky spa somewhere in the Berkshires.
So if you please, embrace the weekend and everything it will bring you, real or imaginary, and know that I am doing the same.
Work, for those of you who didn't know, has been giving me the old-fashioned ass-whooping over the last few weeks. The end is in sight - in a few weeks, the powerful people will be at Conference and my contributions will be final until the next crisis. But for now, I have three days stretching before me to do with as I please.
And I will please go to the gym. I will please give myself a pedicure. I will please wear sandals, even though it's really not warm enough. And I will please be grateful for the change of seasons, the love of good friends, for beautiful cups from which my morning coffee will be enjoyed (thank you, Early family) and for anyone who cares to grill me up a little love in the form of a burger or brat. I will drink green tea, wear comfortable clothing, and pretend I am at a swanky spa somewhere in the Berkshires.
So if you please, embrace the weekend and everything it will bring you, real or imaginary, and know that I am doing the same.
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
Bob and weave ...
There are things I've been putting off until I'm thin. Buying stiletto boots. Picking up younger guys. And kickboxing. I haven't been able to get into the kickboxing thing, because the classes are filled with these precious young hardbodies with something to prove.
So not me.
But one of my favorite instructors teaches on Tuesday nights, and it really looks like fun to pretend to hit stuff. So last night, I went.
Hoo-wah, what a great time! My heartrate monitor told me I burned 718 ugly calories! And today, I'm feeling it. My muscles are saying "hi!" every time I move. It's a pretty keen feeling.
So I won't be running out to buy those boots just yet - have to wait for the calves to get all slender and sexy. And I won't be picking up any younger guys, not for lack of trying, though. But I will be going to kickboxing. I will kick. I will box.
As Lloyd Dobler said, kickboxing is the sport of the future. And I don't want to sell anything, buy anything, or process anything as a career. I don't want to sell anything bought or processed, or buy anything sold or processed, or process anything sold, bought, or processed, or repair anything sold, bought, or processed. You know, as a career, I don't want to do that.
So not me.
But one of my favorite instructors teaches on Tuesday nights, and it really looks like fun to pretend to hit stuff. So last night, I went.
Hoo-wah, what a great time! My heartrate monitor told me I burned 718 ugly calories! And today, I'm feeling it. My muscles are saying "hi!" every time I move. It's a pretty keen feeling.
So I won't be running out to buy those boots just yet - have to wait for the calves to get all slender and sexy. And I won't be picking up any younger guys, not for lack of trying, though. But I will be going to kickboxing. I will kick. I will box.
As Lloyd Dobler said, kickboxing is the sport of the future. And I don't want to sell anything, buy anything, or process anything as a career. I don't want to sell anything bought or processed, or buy anything sold or processed, or process anything sold, bought, or processed, or repair anything sold, bought, or processed. You know, as a career, I don't want to do that.
Monday, May 19, 2008
Yes, I can remember back that far
When I was a little girl, my sisters and I used to love exploring in the backyard, and into the woods that stretched beyond our backyard. The Hundred Acre Wood, we used to call it. It was the property owned by Ray and Hazel Burgett, and they never seemed to mind four girls running along the paths, seeking new wildflowers and frightening squirrels. It was the best place to play hide & seek. It was also the best place to pick lily of the valley.
Each year for her birthday, on May 26, my mom would tell each of us that all she wanted was a bouquet of lily of the valley, and all four of us would dutifully head into the woods to pick it for her, following the instructions Mrs. Burgett had given us - grasp the stems down close to the ground and pull straight up, so you hear it give way with a "pop". It's a sound, and smell, that is so vivid to me still today.
Mom would gather up her bouquets into one big one, and it would be placed lovingly in water within her antique vase, her "buttons and bows" vase she called it, remembering the name of the pattern. The flowers were special to her, and so was the vase. And it would take center stage on the mantle, the scent of the flowers wafting through the living room of our home.
In time, the Burgetts moved, and my sister Jenn bought their little cottage in the woods, and along with it acres of land and some of the best lily of the valley around. Even when I was in college, and well past, I still headed to the woods to pick Mom's birthday present. There wasn't anything that made her happier.
So imagine my surprise last year this time when I got out of my car and smelled that familiar, heady scent. I must have looked like a crazed lunatic, one warm May night, being led in the moonlight by my nose until the snow-white flowers came into view. Right there, on the edge of the property where my building stands, is a small patch of lily of the valley ... memories, growing right there in the dirt.
I still pick them for Mom. I think she'd be pleased that I enjoy them in my own home these days. I know she'd be pleased at my choice of vase to hold them - a gift from Patrick, my best friend, my constant, my rock in the winds of life. It's not buttons & bows; it's more like love & pottery. Like my mother before me, I have a vase that's special, and flowers that are, too ... and a soul filled with memories that pop up unexpectedly sometimes, when you grasp them near the ground and urge them to come to life.
Sunday, May 18, 2008
Feels like vacation
I had an amazing weekend. I would love to tell you all about it, but first I must address a topic close to the heart of the blog.
Anonymous readers get no bloggy love. You wanna be mentioned in the blog, ya gotta tell me who you are. And even then, I make no promises.
We now return you to our regularly scheduled blog.
I had a helluva week. Work's been kicking my ass of late, with deadlines looming and just general office politics that I just don't cope with well. So I took a mini-vaca.
Yes, I know ... that's Spanglish for "little cow."
Drove up to Wisconsin to enjoy some karaoke, stay with Amber, catch up on sleep, read, relax, and see "Carousel," which Team Rathunde directed in Elkhorn. First stop: Amber's house. Had to beautify before heading to the Tap.
Bar was crowded! Dale showed off his cool new lasers, and the singing began. We only got through a little more than two rotations, there were so many singers. Most of them were good. One of them was that creepy guy I won't call by name, because I like to pretend to be nice.
Being at the Tap is a warm, welcoming experience for me. It's nice to come back to a place and know I've been missed, even if it's just because I scratch Mike's back really well. Colleen even stopped down, to close out the tiniest Tupperware party ever (she is, after all, the TupperQueen!) She sang that song I love but can never remember the title of. My friends make great music, even if Tim Bogarted "Banditos." And let's face it - it's Tim. He can do pretty much anything he damn well pleases.
Libby was there! She doesn't make it out very often, so it was great to step out onto the dance floor with her. Angel only sang once, but she made it worth it with a little "Black Velvet." I got to catch up with Larry, lick Chris' bicep (hey, I had permission!), dance with Kelly and enjoy some liquid refreshment along the way.
When it was time to go (and poor Wendy really had a rough time getting us to vacate!) I wasn't quite ready to head for the hills, but I said my goodbyes and hit the road.
Saturday was perfect. Seriously, straight out of a movie script. Amber and I slept in, and then go dressed to head outside. We took a walk along Geneva Lake, via the path that runs between all the homes I can't even afford to look at and the lake. It is beautiful. I wish I'd had the energy to enjoy it a little longer, but these old bones aren't what they used to be, so we turned around after a half hour or so and headed back. We enjoyed breakfast at Egg Harbor out on the patio - there is nothing better in the world than dining al fresco! We decided it was not time yet to head back indoors, so we walked down by the beach, took off our shoes and laid down in the grass.
Do you have any idea how awesome it feels to have the sun on your skin after keeping it hidden (the sun, and your skin!) during the winter months? Amazing. Relaxing. That in and of itself was a treasure, but we had a soundtrack. A guy named Mike was playing guitar, and he came over for a bit and sat by us. He took requests! We heard Van Morrison, the Beatles, and some original stuff. We soaked up the warmth of the sun and the enjoyment of music being created just for us ... I can't speak for Amber, but I couldn't ask for more.
Rounding out the day, we went to see "Ironman." Great summer flick! Loved it. Nothing like a dark, brooding leading man to send me off to dreamland with happy thoughts.
Then today, we went to Chez Rathunde for brunch. Liz was home, and she made Eggs Benedict for all of us - and by "all of us," I mean a houseful! We had us a blast, on top of full bellies. Then it was time to head to the theater to see "Carousel."
I find I have to speak in monosyllables when I talk about the show. As in "Tim wow, want more." He was incredible as Jigger; the man lights up the stage. Or maybe it's just that thing I have for bad boys.
At any rate, it was a truly enjoyable afternoon, and I was sad to head home, and even sadder to realize that tomorrow I have to head back to work. The realization that a week from tomorrow we'll be observing Memorial Day makes it all worth it, though.
Here's to a great weekend! Hope yours was happy, too.
Anonymous readers get no bloggy love. You wanna be mentioned in the blog, ya gotta tell me who you are. And even then, I make no promises.
We now return you to our regularly scheduled blog.
I had a helluva week. Work's been kicking my ass of late, with deadlines looming and just general office politics that I just don't cope with well. So I took a mini-vaca.
Yes, I know ... that's Spanglish for "little cow."
Drove up to Wisconsin to enjoy some karaoke, stay with Amber, catch up on sleep, read, relax, and see "Carousel," which Team Rathunde directed in Elkhorn. First stop: Amber's house. Had to beautify before heading to the Tap.
Bar was crowded! Dale showed off his cool new lasers, and the singing began. We only got through a little more than two rotations, there were so many singers. Most of them were good. One of them was that creepy guy I won't call by name, because I like to pretend to be nice.
Being at the Tap is a warm, welcoming experience for me. It's nice to come back to a place and know I've been missed, even if it's just because I scratch Mike's back really well. Colleen even stopped down, to close out the tiniest Tupperware party ever (she is, after all, the TupperQueen!) She sang that song I love but can never remember the title of. My friends make great music, even if Tim Bogarted "Banditos." And let's face it - it's Tim. He can do pretty much anything he damn well pleases.
Libby was there! She doesn't make it out very often, so it was great to step out onto the dance floor with her. Angel only sang once, but she made it worth it with a little "Black Velvet." I got to catch up with Larry, lick Chris' bicep (hey, I had permission!), dance with Kelly and enjoy some liquid refreshment along the way.
When it was time to go (and poor Wendy really had a rough time getting us to vacate!) I wasn't quite ready to head for the hills, but I said my goodbyes and hit the road.
Saturday was perfect. Seriously, straight out of a movie script. Amber and I slept in, and then go dressed to head outside. We took a walk along Geneva Lake, via the path that runs between all the homes I can't even afford to look at and the lake. It is beautiful. I wish I'd had the energy to enjoy it a little longer, but these old bones aren't what they used to be, so we turned around after a half hour or so and headed back. We enjoyed breakfast at Egg Harbor out on the patio - there is nothing better in the world than dining al fresco! We decided it was not time yet to head back indoors, so we walked down by the beach, took off our shoes and laid down in the grass.
Do you have any idea how awesome it feels to have the sun on your skin after keeping it hidden (the sun, and your skin!) during the winter months? Amazing. Relaxing. That in and of itself was a treasure, but we had a soundtrack. A guy named Mike was playing guitar, and he came over for a bit and sat by us. He took requests! We heard Van Morrison, the Beatles, and some original stuff. We soaked up the warmth of the sun and the enjoyment of music being created just for us ... I can't speak for Amber, but I couldn't ask for more.
Rounding out the day, we went to see "Ironman." Great summer flick! Loved it. Nothing like a dark, brooding leading man to send me off to dreamland with happy thoughts.
Then today, we went to Chez Rathunde for brunch. Liz was home, and she made Eggs Benedict for all of us - and by "all of us," I mean a houseful! We had us a blast, on top of full bellies. Then it was time to head to the theater to see "Carousel."
I find I have to speak in monosyllables when I talk about the show. As in "Tim wow, want more." He was incredible as Jigger; the man lights up the stage. Or maybe it's just that thing I have for bad boys.
At any rate, it was a truly enjoyable afternoon, and I was sad to head home, and even sadder to realize that tomorrow I have to head back to work. The realization that a week from tomorrow we'll be observing Memorial Day makes it all worth it, though.
Here's to a great weekend! Hope yours was happy, too.
Friday, May 16, 2008
Thursday, May 15, 2008
Utter lunacy
It's been one of those weeks. One in which:
- I asked a guy to just hold that position, so I could just stare at his muscles.
- I ate a little too much hummus. I won't bore you with the details of how swiftly it moves through my digestive tract.
- Work kinda kicked my ass, but I found I could retain my stellar professionalism and kick back.
- I discovered steel-cut oats with a little brown sugar really is the ultimate comfort breakfast.
- I didn't get nearly enough sleep, but I'll catch up over the weekend.
- I re-connected by phone with two old friends who've been tough to catch lately. It's good to know I'm missed.
- I had a disturbingly sexy dream that I really don't care to share more of, lest the object of my dream affections read my mind.
- I lost two more pounds, and one of my colleagues said, "You are literally melting before our eyes."
- I came to terms with my dire need for a pedicure.
- A new friend hugged me and said, "I am so glad you're my friend!"
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
Happy Birthday
If you run into this guy today, wish him a happy birthday. Because it's May 13, and even though we never get around to celebrating until sometime in June (speaking of which, Brian, what are you doing June 4?) today is the actual day.And I remembered.
Gold star for the Maggie.
Cute Brian in the photograph he took of himself sweating while he volunteered on his vacation in 2007. Now you know why we call him Cute Brian.
Sunday, May 11, 2008
Happy Others Day
Today is Mother's Day. My fourth sans Mom. As is our tradition, Mom went to church and to dinner. She gets around.
Having my literal mother no longer with me always brings to mind the other people in my life who mother me, or who otherwise take care of me. Permit me, gentle reader, to take a moment to appreciate the Others in my life.
My sisters, who make me crazy half the time and make me proud to be a Bieritz the other half. They aren't perfect, but they are mine.
Rae, who has only held the title of Mother for a little over a year but who loves so perfectly and unconditionally, I feel as though she was a mom, in some ways, much sooner than she actually was. Thank you for having a daughter who loves me, even in pictures.
Janie, a woman who goes with the flow but always stands out from the crowd. Maybe it's her effervescent smile. Maybe it's the way she accepts people just as they are. Or maybe, just maybe, it's the bundle of unbridled joy in her arms. That's my nephew, Liam. You should hear him giggle.
Kelly, who has been mothering me since she was 13. Which is really saying something, since I was 16 at the time. She supported me through the loss of my mother, my job, and my husband, all the while reminding me that I was strong.
Ellen, who calls me "earth mother." She never fails to remind me that in my worst moments, I can choose to be my best self. She has high expectations of me, and I never want to disappoint her.
The Original Margaret Rathunde, my mother-in-law. This is a rare woman who understands that her son can divorce me, but she doesn't have to. It was my distinct pleasure to spend this morning with her. She's nuts, she's high strung, and I love her.
Finally, my dad. Yes, my dad. The man who, for me, hung the moon. He's the one I call when I need career advice, or when I'm still trying to understand how I failed as a wife, or when I need that recipe for Aunt Judy's soup. Glenn Bieritz is one in a million, and I'm glad he's mine.
So to those of you who are mothers, I celebrate you today. To those who have mothers, I hope you celebrate with them in some way. May we all continue to love and mother one another through the heartaches, scraped knees and triumphs of this crazy journey we call life. Happy Others Day, one and all.
Having my literal mother no longer with me always brings to mind the other people in my life who mother me, or who otherwise take care of me. Permit me, gentle reader, to take a moment to appreciate the Others in my life.
My sisters, who make me crazy half the time and make me proud to be a Bieritz the other half. They aren't perfect, but they are mine.
Rae, who has only held the title of Mother for a little over a year but who loves so perfectly and unconditionally, I feel as though she was a mom, in some ways, much sooner than she actually was. Thank you for having a daughter who loves me, even in pictures.
Janie, a woman who goes with the flow but always stands out from the crowd. Maybe it's her effervescent smile. Maybe it's the way she accepts people just as they are. Or maybe, just maybe, it's the bundle of unbridled joy in her arms. That's my nephew, Liam. You should hear him giggle.
Kelly, who has been mothering me since she was 13. Which is really saying something, since I was 16 at the time. She supported me through the loss of my mother, my job, and my husband, all the while reminding me that I was strong.
Ellen, who calls me "earth mother." She never fails to remind me that in my worst moments, I can choose to be my best self. She has high expectations of me, and I never want to disappoint her.
The Original Margaret Rathunde, my mother-in-law. This is a rare woman who understands that her son can divorce me, but she doesn't have to. It was my distinct pleasure to spend this morning with her. She's nuts, she's high strung, and I love her.
Finally, my dad. Yes, my dad. The man who, for me, hung the moon. He's the one I call when I need career advice, or when I'm still trying to understand how I failed as a wife, or when I need that recipe for Aunt Judy's soup. Glenn Bieritz is one in a million, and I'm glad he's mine.
So to those of you who are mothers, I celebrate you today. To those who have mothers, I hope you celebrate with them in some way. May we all continue to love and mother one another through the heartaches, scraped knees and triumphs of this crazy journey we call life. Happy Others Day, one and all.
Friday, May 9, 2008
Routines
So last night I'm at the gym. Should come as no surprise - these days, if I'm not at work or asleep (or sleeping at work) I'm usually at the gym. I'm doing the Thursday night Salsa/Funk class (where we dance salsa, we do not make dip) and having a blast. Two nights a week, I dance my ass off. Literally.
After class, my friend John (delightful fella with the most perfect hind end in captivity) says to me, "You haven't updated the blog lately. I checked." (He, by the way, has been hard at work updating his.)
Well, pardon me, blog stalker!
Which brings me to my need to post today.
I've settled into this routine that is dramatically un-routine. It goes something like this:
Do whatcha wanna do. Don't do whatcha don't wanna do. Sleep some, eat some, dance some, whenever you want.
And it's workin' for me. I'm enjoying my life, and all the people in it. What more could an aging divorcee ask for? Except, maybe, an actual divorce?
After class, my friend John (delightful fella with the most perfect hind end in captivity) says to me, "You haven't updated the blog lately. I checked." (He, by the way, has been hard at work updating his.)
Well, pardon me, blog stalker!
Which brings me to my need to post today.
I've settled into this routine that is dramatically un-routine. It goes something like this:
Do whatcha wanna do. Don't do whatcha don't wanna do. Sleep some, eat some, dance some, whenever you want.
And it's workin' for me. I'm enjoying my life, and all the people in it. What more could an aging divorcee ask for? Except, maybe, an actual divorce?
Monday, May 5, 2008
A Tale of Two Margarets ... and an Irving
I had the distinct pleasure of spending Sunday with my favorite mother-in-law.
She's my only mother-in-law, so I suppose she's also my least favorite, but I've always felt that I won the mother-in-law lottery. She's the original Margaret Rathunde; I'm the other Margaret Rathunde.
She had a nasty bad health scare a week or so ago, and got smacked into the hospital. Still not completely sure what it was, but she's at least home, although she's lugging around oxygen, which takes some getting used to.
She has a tank at home that's big and plugs in and makes its own O2, and then a little one for on-the-go. She walks it along with her like a dog, so we named it.
Irving allowed us to go to church, and out to lunch, and to the grocery store. Irving was well-behaved and did everything we asked of him, and when we got home, he went quietly back where he belonged. Irving is a pretty damn cool addition to the family!
Before I had to head back home, Marge did the unthinkable: She gave me her cigarettes. No, I haven't taken up the habit; she just wanted me to get rid of them. For now, she's a non-smoker.
It was a good day. There will be more good days. In fact, we're planning one tomorrow.
She's my only mother-in-law, so I suppose she's also my least favorite, but I've always felt that I won the mother-in-law lottery. She's the original Margaret Rathunde; I'm the other Margaret Rathunde.
She had a nasty bad health scare a week or so ago, and got smacked into the hospital. Still not completely sure what it was, but she's at least home, although she's lugging around oxygen, which takes some getting used to.
She has a tank at home that's big and plugs in and makes its own O2, and then a little one for on-the-go. She walks it along with her like a dog, so we named it.
Irving allowed us to go to church, and out to lunch, and to the grocery store. Irving was well-behaved and did everything we asked of him, and when we got home, he went quietly back where he belonged. Irving is a pretty damn cool addition to the family!
Before I had to head back home, Marge did the unthinkable: She gave me her cigarettes. No, I haven't taken up the habit; she just wanted me to get rid of them. For now, she's a non-smoker.
It was a good day. There will be more good days. In fact, we're planning one tomorrow.
Sunday, May 4, 2008
Waffles
I was watching "Numbers" the other night on demand (and yes, I am loving the return of cable to my life.) I enjoy catching the show now and then, in part because I'm fascinated by things I don't understand (like math) and in part because smart guys with curly hair are among my favorite things, and the character of Charlie is both.
So in the episode I was watching, one of the characters was sad because her family hadn't come to visit in a long time, and she told of how, whenever they were in town, they would go out for waffles. So Charlie had the whole gang over for dinner, and the scene around the table reminded me of many dinners with my friends - an amazing assortment of ages, interests, careers, all drawn together by one another. And Charlie enters from the kitchen with dinner - a huge platter of waffles - and announces:
"Family is the people you want to eat waffles with."
Truer words were never spoken.
So in the episode I was watching, one of the characters was sad because her family hadn't come to visit in a long time, and she told of how, whenever they were in town, they would go out for waffles. So Charlie had the whole gang over for dinner, and the scene around the table reminded me of many dinners with my friends - an amazing assortment of ages, interests, careers, all drawn together by one another. And Charlie enters from the kitchen with dinner - a huge platter of waffles - and announces:
"Family is the people you want to eat waffles with."
Truer words were never spoken.
Thursday, May 1, 2008
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