Seat for one

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It has been a summer of doing stuff on my own. Mostly traveling to different extended family events in other parts of the state. Back forth I go!

Once again, I am off on my own this weekend. The family is going in many different directions and when the kids get to be of the age where they have cars and jobs, they have to start making choices between participation and doing this “adult-ish.”

So, once again, I have reserved a seat for one at a family gathering.

I am not sure if I am complaining or bragging. Sometimes I wish it wasn’t that way, but at other times I don’t mind it because I don’t have to be accountable to or worry about anyone but me. There is freedom in that. I can eat when I want. I can stop on the way there when I want. I can take my time and get there when I want.

OK, I guess I am not really complaining on this when I look at it that way.


 

Do you value your time alone when you are traveling or would you prefer to do it with others?

Relatively needy

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As you may have read yesterday, there are some relatives staying with us. I have to preface that with the fact that these are in addition to the relatives who have been staying with us in the camper in our yard. So, needless to say, there are quite a few extra people around.

Well, yesterday when I got home, it seemed everyone who doesn’t have permanent residence IN the house needed something. Things they couldn’t take care of themselves or needed assistance with, or even just didn’t take care of themselves even though they caused the issue.

One relative needed help gathering supplies for a campfire in the backyard. Not a hard task, but since I didn’t really want a fire in the backyard pit it was rather irritating. It was just assumed it was OK rather than asking. So as to not make waves, I just did it.

One relative didn’t pick up their crap. So I put it away.

One relative broke a light switch. I went about repairs, only to find that it can’t be fixed and will need to be replaces.

One relative had to tell me, immediately about the day even though she could see that I was busy with other things. She literally followed me around talking while I took care of other stuff.

One relative complained because my face “said I looked like I was irritated.”

All of this was within the first 20 minutes of being home.

I’ll tell you what…some days it just doesn’t pay to go home. Perhaps I’ll not go home for the rest of the week…

Invasion

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Have you ever experienced an invasion?

Not of rodents. Not of insects. Not of a military kind.

But of the family kind?

Relatives have been in town this last week (and one more to go) and it feels a bit like an invasion. Everything in the house has been adjusted for them, the food, the fridge, the sleeping schedule, the bathroom, the furniture, the accommodations, the entertainment, the seemingly openness to communal living…it’s tiring.

It’s an invasion really.

Suddenly life as I have known it is thrown upside down and normal day to day activities take on a new, additional challenge. It’s not good. Really.

I love them. I’ll admit. But they’re tiring. Really tiring. They live life so differently.

The only bright spot in this invasion? They’ll leave.

This invasion will end and they’ll go home. Far, far away.

The normal (whatever that is) life will return.


 

Anyone else not really enjoy house guests? Family or other?

FREEZE!

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Me: Freeze, Dirt Bag!

Daughter: Dad!

Me: I said freeze! Now, put down my chocolate chip cookie and step away.

Daughter: Dad, it’s just a cookie. Lighten up.

Me: No, it is NOT just a cookie. It is MY cookie and you are not authorized to touch it, let alone eat it.

Daughter: Dad…

Me: You are seriously jeopardizing my ability to love you right now. Drop it!

Daughter: I swear your old age is making you crazy…

Anyone else like chocolate chip cookies as much as me?

Anyone else not like sharing them?

Anyone else feel like your job as a dad is to eat all the chocolate chip cookies before you have to share with the kids? Yeah, me too.

I swear if I have to share another cookie with my kids…

Getting real old

man hands waiting senior

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This last weekend was for the ages.

I went to two birthday parties for old people. My grandmother turned 90 and my father-in-law turned 79.

This isn’t really a complaint about relatives getting old. I love them. But what it is a complaint about is that people are getting old, and that just means the inevitable is getting closer…and I don’t like it.

Not only is it getting closer for them (it’s hard to admit, because really it could be any time), but it is getting closer for me too. That’s the frightening thing.

Not that I am scare of death. I know where my Peace is.

But, I am scared because there seems like there just isn’t enough time and there are places I want to go and things I want to do and suddenly I feel selfish because I feel like I have to let those things go. I am scared because there are things that will happen in the future that I might not get to see, experience, enjoy with my daughter (and grand kids, when she has them in the future). Time just keeps on ticking and often I think I am no closer to some of my goals now, than I was 20 years ago, or even 10 years ago.

I look at the people I love in my life and they’re getting old and time with them is slipping by. There aren’t as many at family gatherings as there used to be. Oh, to have that time back, right? Just make the best of it now. Cherish it.

Getting old is getting really old. My body feels it. My mind knows it. My eyes see it.

How do I move forward and make it not feel this way?


 

Do you worry about getting old? Do you wonder what will happen in the next 10-20 years for you? What do you take solace in?

Deep breath

Time to breath.

It was rushed this morning. Not that it isn’t most mornings, but when you’re leaving town directly after work and not returning home beforehand, well that adds an extra dimension of stress.

Did I get everything? What am I forgetting? Have I taken care of everything at home so I don’t have to worry about it while I’m gone?

Yeah, it might be a bit of self-imposed stress but it is stress nonetheless.

The thing is, we don’t really need to stress about it. If we forgot something, just go to the store. Right? Yeah. Not really that big of a deal, but we do it to ourselves anyway.

So, I sit in my cube and recount the morning…check, yes, ok, check, check, um…check, alright. Let it go.

Just let it go.

Not sleeping well

closeup photography of adult short coated tan and white dog sleeping on gray textile at daytime

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Anyone else tired after the “extended” July 4th weekend?

I am keenly aware, now, that the quality of my sleep is determined by how well the dog sleeps. Since it sleeps on the bed, it has a lot of influence.

July 3: Fireworks. Lots of them. Dog cowers all night in shock, the fan is on high, and the music is blaring. Thus, sleep quality is low.

July 4: MORE fireworks, for longer. They’re now closer, as in the neighborhood. Dog cowers all night in shock, the fan is on high, and the music is blaring. Thus, sleep quality is, again, low.

July 5: Up early for work. Dead tired all day. Pot of coffee consumed.

July 6: Quality of sleep is better BUT body clock won’t let me sleep in. 4:45 am on a Saturday morning just isn’t right. Dog sleeps better as well since the stress level has gone back down.

July 7: Dog went to bed early. I went to bed late after watching a movie. Sleep is good, but body clock still says 5:15 am is a good time to get up. Seriously? Doesn’t my body know I am not going to work?

July 8: Today…3:30 am…dog is itchy, licky, whiny, and not sleeping well. Thus, I am in and out of sleep and the body clock says 5:22 is a good time to be awake.

At least I am not late for work…ever. Do I really need an alarm clock?


Anyone else have a hard time sleeping over the long weekend? Anyone else have a hard time sleeping with a pet(s) on the bed?

closeup photography of adult short coated tan and white dog sleeping on gray textile at daytime