Can I photoshop my life?

We just had the most awesome unThanksgiving meal last night. I confess I was dead dog TIRED after a long work day last Friday and then an extra workday the following Saturday. The last thing I wanted to do was come home to a house full of people and make small talk.

But my beloved had committed to a "Korean barbeque" the week before because a preschool acquaintance mentioned that she made homemade kimchi. Not to be outdone, my dh apparently bragged about his homemade Korean barbeque beef and next thing we knew a dinner party at our house had been planned.

So I sat at work yesterday, still exhausted from work the day before, disgruntled that by the time I got home the party would already be in full swing. Damn. Of course it was already set up to be a successful evening because by the time I got home my expectations couldn't get any lower. Two couples each with their two kids mingling with my two kids. Six kids, five of whom were younger than 5 years old, under our modest roof. A wet rainy night (which put me in a bad mood already). My darling husband left to his own devices to prepare for this meal without any assistance from me whatsoever. It was a recipe for disaster.

Only it wasn't. By some miracle (and I do mean an act of God), all six kids got along wonderfully, playing so nicely together that I was truly bewildered. Our considerate guests had brought wine, cheese and crackers, and chocolate truffles to supplement my beloved's one-man show -- in addition to the infamous homemade kimchi and a jar of homemade sauerkraut to boot!

And I truly did have a great time. My work-related fatigue and stress melted away as we talked mostly about the topic near and dear to all our hearts: our children. We go to a most unique preschool where we learn just as much about ourselves and parenting as the children learn about positive social interactions and self-esteem. I was reminded once again of what an amazing gift our children are, how we need to cherish them. We swapped stories about what we had been learning during the course of the school year as well as war stories about our children's more naughty escapades which, in the warm glow of empathy, we can now laugh at heartily. I am reminded again of how we don't always realize just how weak we are until we draw the village helping to raise our children into our homes and nearer to our hearths until we can look into each others' eyes with real honesty, kindness, and compassion. The community that we all yearn for so deeply is closer than we think.

My dh, brave soul that he was, forged on in the pouring rain and barbecued so much Korean beef I believe the scent could be detected for miles around. As we sat around our massive dining room table (paperwork, mail, and discarded items of clothing for once cleared from the tabletop) with the candles glowing, fireplace burning merrily, lively conversation bantered about us, and, best of all, lightning and thunder outside our windows reminding us from time to time how wonderfully cozy we were, I glibly proclaimed to my husband, "Happy unThanksgiving!" simply repeating a phrase he had said to me earlier. One of our guests picked up on the phrase and, answering her inquiry, we explained that this year we were not celebrating Thanksgiving. (I didn't go into the details of how I was just too tired to make it happen this year yet I am painfully aware that this is the first time in years that I am actually skipping the holiday tradition.) As it turns out, Lillian and her family are also not celebrating Thanksgiving which was actually nice for me to hear to lessen my guilt over depriving my 4 year old twins of a piece of Americana.

At her suggestion, we held hands around the table while Lillian and her family led us in a blessing song over the repast, and then we took turns as both adults and children declared what we were thankful for, from family to friends to food to toy guns to t.v.! And, I realized, I truly AM thankful. Imagine that.

My dh took several candid photos of the evening with his smartphone. He knows all too well my need to be reminded of happier times in order to get through the not-so-happy ones. At the end of the evening, after our guests had departed, I finally got a chance to look at them. It had been such a wonderful evening that it never occurred to me how, despite my sincere appreciation of the gathering, I might still look haggard, a bit unkempt, and, well, like someone who has just put in several days of hard work. Yet, there it was, in full slightly blurry color, messy, slovenly, unkempt me. It's a bit startling actually, considering the inner glow from the evening that I carry within me still. Of course the photo is an easy fix. I can photoshop the image until it more accurately reflects just how much I truly enjoyed myself. In spite of my grumbling and complaining, deep down and mostly hidden from public view, I really am grateful for my life, though it might not be obvious all the time. Is there a way to photoshop me permanently?

A New Puppy

While there are some who may not consider a 5 month old dog a puppy, in my book they get to use this adorable moniker until they hit the 1 year mark at least. Besides, puppydom is a frame of mind not an age, kind of like how my age, 44, is just a number. Okay that last part was a load of crap because anyone who says 44 is not middle aged is either incredibly deluded or just plain L-Y-I-N-G. Just ask my grey-haired roots and my aching joints.

But our new Yorkshire terrier is truly a puppy in mind, body, and spirit. She weighs less than a Happy Meal and loves to run around terrorizing, yep, our older dog. Elroy, my patient and loyal Schnauzer mix, is both delighted and a little puzzled by the sudden appearance of this little new creature. (By "sudden", read: dh without warning or discussion literally showed up with the Yorkie in his jacket yesterday and declared he just bought her from a breeder. Yeah. SUDDEN.) I am already working two jobs, raising two young active children, and now I have two dogs. I feel like I'm in a Doublemint commercial. (Yes, I realize I am dating myself...)

So now, dh is in the living room sleeping on the couch keeping Pinkie Pie (the kids' name choice, not ours obviously) company. When she first arrived, I posted on Facebook that dh had replaced me with a bitch named Princess Pinkie Pie. I was only half kidding.

I am sooo connected

I only recently entered the 21st century. While I am not a COMPLETE dinosaur, it wasn't until recently (i.e., this past year) that I acquired a smart phone. I just started blogging a couple of months ago. And I activated my Facebook and Twitter accounts even more recently. I have an 18 year old stepson who is constantly texting on his iphone while playing his video game online and skyping with his friends on his laptop. I have often wondered, is he ever really in the present moment in his immediate environment? Is he ever really just HERE? Honestly, I just didn't see the point of it all. To me, it was like reality t.v. or McDonald's -- completely unnecessary yet sadly ubiquitous.

Then I became the recipient of a technological onslaught, if you will. My husband needed to make a rare out of town trip leaving me stranded with our 3 year old twins. In a clearly guilt-driven gesture, he bought me the new Android smart phone completely unsolicited. In a second guilt-driven gesture (for reasons undisclosed), he bought me an ipad for mother's day. At around the same time, I was approached by the editor of our twins' club blog who was looking for a co-editor to help her out. Hence the activation of my social media accounts, the hallmark of all modern day bloggers.

So in a very short time period, I found myself driven to the online community at an alarmingly rapid rate. Whereas in the past I had limited my online activity to checking emails occasionally, now I am posting and tweeting and blogging to boot! Honestly, it is a bit overwhelming not to mention quite time consuming.

I have become a 43-year old variation of my teenaged stepson, much to the chagrin of my dear husband. As an aside, I find his recriminations very interesting considering that he is the one who bought me all my technological toys (including my first Mac laptop) in the first place.

I knew I had crossed the Rubicon today when we went shopping at Costco. As we entered the mammoth store, I realized that I had left my phone in the car. I had a brief moment of phantom limb syndrome. Wow. Is this who I am now?

Am I Ridiculous?

There is a medical term describing one of the symptoms of mania (as in manic episodes versus depressive ones) called "racing thoughts". It is a term describing an inability to control the onslaught of thoughts and ideas that flood the mind at an alarming rate like water gushing through a newly destroyed dam. Lately this is the term that keeps popping in my head, holding my head under water until I feel like I can't breathe ...

Here is a snapshot of my life recently:

Thursday

Up early to finally shower (after 2 disgusting days), dress kids (a DAILY struggle), feed kids breakfast and pack lunches to-go (for the kids, of course, because as usual I had no time for breakfast for myself and I forgot to pack my own lunch)

Hustle to Music Together class to make it on time for the "Hello" song (because they get REALLY upset if we miss it) and sing and dance with other grown ups while other three-year olds watch us (secretly amused, I believe)

Hike after class and dole out lunch on the way home from said hike (I nibbled on leftover crusts, how pathetic!)

Nap time struggle with the kids (which is a completely separate post) during which time I am checking email and all forms of social media, reviewing bank accounts and bills, and making a mental inventory of groceries we might need

Awake time struggle with the kids while sainted husband makes us dinner, my first square meal of the day

Then the rest of the evening is a blur of scarfing down dinner with the kids, bath time, the bed time struggle, and all of us staying up way too late ...

Friday

Up early to get to work early to complete unfinished business

Long stressful day at work, hurrying and hustling to get out on time...

Rush home to go with the family to the Bob the Builder opening at the Children's Discovery Museum

Then the usual bed time struggle, again staying up way too late ...

Saturday

Up early for the kids' swim lesson followed by 3 hours at the pool mediating, monitoring, and placating the kids (not to mention several potty breaks) -- oh, and feeding them as well

Rush home so sainted husband can do the nap time struggle with the kids while I hurry off to a hair appointment, late of course

Car wash and groceries after hair appointment, then home to help cook dinner

The evening routine again (Were they supposed to get baths? Yes. Did we give them baths? No. They'll live.) -- Why are we up so late EVERY NIGHT??

Sunday

Up early to go to work again ...

I have these almost out-of-body experiences sometimes when I can see myself and hear myself and I ask myself, Is this a joke? Our mother's helper was supposed to arrive before our swim class to clean the house, but with 15 minutes left to get to their lesson on time she sent me a text:

Sorry I am late. My father is in trouble.

My immediate response was concern for her and her family. But the feeling was rapidly swept away with one glance at the clock which glared at me accusingly as if to say, "You're late! You're late!" We barely made it to class on time with my husband so discombobulated he forgot to put shoes on my daughters feet! All thoughts of my helper's poor father were quickly crowded out by thoughts of shoes, sunscreen, and swimming safety.

I actually completely forgot about her cryptic text until we returned home over 4 hours later. I would have been completely preoccupied with getting to my salon appointment on time until I glanced down at my phone and re-read her text:

My father is in trouble.

Now, I ask you, what kind of person occupies her mind with thoughts of shoes and water guns and hair ABOVE the concerns of another person's well-being? I guiltily pondered this very question as I slathered my overpriced face cream on my chlorinated skin with that damn clock again screaming at me, "YOU'RE LATE! YOU'RE LATE!"

Ignoring the clock, I inquired about her father and found out that he was arrested for driving with a suspended license and was now in jail. Oh. My. God. What a cold heartless bitch I am! I waited almost 5 hours after her text to even ASK about her situation. I was too busy trying to generate family fun at our pricey health club with my kids taking their expensive swim lessons and me focused on getting to my pretentious salon appointment on time. Not to mention, all this costly activity is sandwiched between days that I am working long hours to pay for all this shit.

Woody Allen made this great movie that I still love to this day titled "Alice". It's an old movie with Mia Farrow playing the housewife of a rich businessman (William Hurt) set in, of course, Manhattan. She plays the upper East side housewife to a T, getting pampered, socializing with two-faced fake friends, and delegating domestic household duties including childcare to others so she can continue to maintain her expected facade. The movie is about her journey from the ridiculous to the sublime.

People tell me, Enjoy your children while they are young. My husband constantly urges me, Be in the moment. My racing thoughts jump from one activity to another as there always seems to be some place to get to "on time" or something that needs to be done but gets forgotten (like shoes or my lunch). How can I enjoy being in the now when it seems like I always need to live in the future? How can I be so selfishly entangled in my own silly plans to the exclusion of another human being's crisis? Sometimes I ask myself, Am I ridiculous?

Al and Tipper Gore Divorcing -- Why Do I Care?

It's not like we are close personal friends. I'm not even a Democrat. So why was I up until 2 a.m. mulling over the Gores' impending divorce? (Besides the 3 hour nap I had taken in the afternoon which TOTALLY messed up my sleep cycle -- I don't recommend it to anyone over the age of 5...)

It isn't a simple case of schadenfreude or rubber necking. I barely glossed over the internet headlines. It isn't that I'm an Al Gore groupie. Honestly, I never even WATCHED "An Inconvenient Truth".

What has me perturbed is the concept that their seemingly healthy loving marriage is now ending after 40 years. My dh and I have been married for less than 7. Our marriage is many things -- passionate, affectionate, at times very trying -- but "healthy" is not a word I would use to characterize it. So I can't help but ask myself, If the Gores can't make it last, what chance do we poor schmucks have to make it work "till death do us part"?

I watched my exhausted husband and 3 1/2 year old twins sleeping soundly last night. In our family bed. Yeah, that's not really helping our marriage too much. I reflected on the evening's bedtime events, the yelling and screaming and crying. Not to mention the kids! LOL. DH and I have been in foul moods of late. The recession has wreaked havoc on our household, I am working longer hours outside of the home (during the week, on weekends) and he is working more inside of the home (taking over childcare when I am no longer available). Our thresholds of patience and endurance are being stretched. This is also not very helpful for our marriage either. Our calendar is rapidly being filled with social events, birthday parties, swimming lessons, museum exhibits -- for the kids. There isn't a lot on the schedule catering to the over 4 year old crowd, i.e., yours truly. Also a bummer for the marriage.

So, the solution? Tell me, Rainman, what do you suggest??