A moment in Tim

Well first and foremost I have to say…. I’m back!  To those of you who used to swing by here on a regular basis, I will apologize for disappearing on you.  It was never planned to disappear for that long.  One day I was writing and posting on the regular.  The next day life and moming and jobing and adulting got in the way.  And the words stopped coming.  I hope you’ll forgive my absence and visit again.  For those of you new to my Chaos, welcome!  I hope you like it and come back too!  Now, since the words have returned…so will I!

In the last year and a half, I have become a little bit of a CrossFit junkie. I decided after 20+ years of running that I needed to shake things up.  Seven days and over 30 miles a week just wears on you.  My treadmill was bored with me and I had run out of Netflix shows to watch.  That’s when I met my new love… CrossFit.  (My apologies to my hubby, but there is just something about throwing up heavy weights and climbing a rope that makes me swoon.  But that’s a blog for another day.)

In my world, workouts get down before the sun comes up. I love my family, but the only time I can get anything done without interruptions is to crank it out while they are dead to the world, so I am a solid up at 4:30 am at the box for 5 am class type of girl.

If you know anything about CrossFit, we are in the depths of The Open right now, a series of five grueling workouts that test you both physically and mentally.  A few days after the latest WOD, I woke up at 2:45 with tremendous, shooting back pain.  No combination of pillows or body contortions would make it stop so I could return to dreamland.  After 30 minutes of trying, I gave up and got on my workout clothes.  (You know, that activewear many just wear to actively get coffee and have their nails done.  I make mine earn its name.)  I had planned to pick up some groceries after class, but decided, since I was already up, I may as well hit the store first.

You know what Wal-Mart is like at 3:30 am…glorious.  Sure, there are employees in the aisles stocking shelves and palettes to dodge, but you now what wasn’t there…other shoppers.  It was phenomenal! I was able to navigate the whole store, get all the household items and a week’s worth of grocery for four (I have a 14-year-old boy, so it was more like groceries for 6), and hit the checkout in under 30 minutes.

And that’s where I met him.

You know what happens when there are no shoppers at Wal-Mart?  There are no checkouts open, so me and my overflowing grocery cart saddled up to the self-check out station and got to work.  Before I had even scanned the first item, the security guard walked over to me with a second shopping cart.

“Hi!  Good Morning!  Here, this will make it easier to you.  You can just put the full ones in it.”  

After wheeling me over the cart, he leaned up against the wall next to me and started talking.  At first it was the usual, the gorgeous weather we just had, hopes it would stick around permanently, fear we would get still one more snow storm before spring really arrived.  Polite small talk.  Nice.  Friendly.  Then he started talking about a meal he had recently with his mom and brother.  He lives with his mom.  His washer recently broke.  He didn’t have the money to buy a new one, so his mom found a place that sells used appliances and helped him purchase one.  He said it had actually broken weeks before he told his mom, but he didn’t want to upset her with the news, so he’d been washing his clothes in the sink for a while now.  

He has an uncle who has a vacation house and a boat.  Boat upkeep is expensive!  He wished he had enough money to be able to have a boat.  But his uncle is a very nice man.  Invites them over and helps him out.  The kind of guy who would keep giving you the shirt off his back time after time, no questions asked. 

They struggle, but they get by.  Tim’s dad was supposed to leave him and his brother some land and inheritance in his will, but he changed it right before he died and left everything to his step mom.  He looked hurt.  His dad wasn’t a nice guy.  We was a jerk (not the words he used, but I cleaned it up for you.) Oh well, that’s how things go I guess.

He shared about a visit with his dad from a while back.  His dad was starting to say something derogatory towards a person of color that was nearby.  He stopped his dad, told him you can’t say that.  That’s not ok.  His dad attempted to belittle him for not ‘manning up.’  I’m not that type of person.  I don’t feel that way about others.  People are people.  We’re all here together.  

I finished up the last of my items and headed out.  I thanked him for the talk and wished him a good day.

“What’s your name?” 

“Kerry”

“Hey Kerry.  I’m Tim.  Have a great day!” 

Tim stopped time.  Tim slowed me down.  Tim was kind.  Tim was honest.  Tim was open.  We could all learn a lot from Tim.  I know I did.

It’s happened already

My daughter turned 12 just a few weeks ago and the unthinkable happened… I got dumber.  I knew it would happen.  I had hoped that maybe my sweet, innocent baby would skip the “my parents are so stupid” phase, but I was only kidding myself, for I too was once in her shoes.  My parents used to have a sign on the fridge that said …. GET OUT NOW WHILE YOU STILL KNOW EVERYTHING!   My brother and I mocked them and their lame sign.  Stupid parents think they are sooooo funny!  Then I moved out and darn it if they didn’t get instantly smarter!

I saw the warning signs about a year ago.  The dramatic “and then she said, and then I said” conversations started occurring.  The long drawn out stories about who wronged who and who wasn’t friends with who this week.  And the huffing and stomping… OH that huffing and stomping.  When that itty-bitty little word that starts with an N and ends with an O is muttered, all around had better take cover.  Overly dramatic sighing and huffing, followed by stomping away and pouting.

Why???  Why so early???  I knew I would have teenage girl dramatics.  I had hoped they would hold off for a while longer.  I worked to hard with her all those early years to be this stupid already!  Please, someone wake me up in about 10 years when I’ll be smart again!

Memories….Like the corner of my mind??

As I’ve mentioned before, my husband has an auto immune condition that wrecks havoc on his body.  Due to his immense physical pain, he experiences memory issues.  The way we have had it explained is that his body is working so hard to get through the day, that it doesn’t necessary “record” minor day-to-day incidents.  Sometimes he just drops off mid-sentence, like his thought hiccupped and the moment is lost.  He also is occasionally messes up  his time and place references, especially when he just wakes up.  Like he’s still trying to sleep to get some physical strength, so this brain doesn’t register it’s supposed to be awake.  As you can imagine, this makes for some funny exchanging and frustrating conversations.  I lovingly refer to them at “Ten second Ted” moments.

Here’s a small piece of my joy….

 

Me – So Trystan has batting practice at the cages from 12:30 – 1:30, then baseball practice at the field from 2:00 – 3:30. 

Him -OK

I leave to drop off, get back home. 

Him – Where were you?

Me -Taking Trystan to baseball practice.

Him – He has baseball practice?

 

Me – So do you still have for lunch on Friday?

Him – How can we have lunch?  You’re working on Friday.

Me – No, I have Friday off this week.

Him – You didn’t tell me that.

Me – Yes, we talked about it.  I’ve been talking about what I’ll do that day.

Him – No we didn’t.

 

Him – So those guys are going to…

Me – (Starring at him for a while) Are going to have to what? 

Him – What are you talking about?

Me – You were just saying ‘those guys are going to’ and then you dropped off

Him – Hmm, I don’t know.

 

Husband sleeping.  I went in at 6:00, 6:15, 6:30, and 6:40 to wake him up.  Each time he told me he needed more sleep.

6:45 – Me – Do you want to get up yet?

Him – What time is it?

Me – 6:45

Him – Why didn’t you wake me up earlier?

Me – I did….repeatedly.

Him – No you didn’t

 

The door blew open and broke a flower pot. 

Him – Great!  And I got you that for Mother’s Day.

Me – Yeah, I know.

Him – Wait, that was last year.  Have we had Mother’s Day yet this year?

 

Him (Ranting about something from work) – I don’t need to be talked to like that.  I’m 37.

Me – Ummm, you’re 38.

Him – I’m 38?!?!

Me – Yes

Him – What did I get for my birthday?

 

 

Ring, ring

There’s a double-edged sword of owing a cell phone. 1. You’re always accessible. 2. You’re always expected to be accessible.

Remember  when you first got a cell phone?  I’m old enough to remember not having one.  Old enough to remember not needing to be in constant contact with others.  Surprisingly we survived adolescence without our parents being able to text us.

But now that we all have them, we are all attached.  Going wireless has made us more trapped.  You can never get away.  You can try.  That’s what the ignore button is for.  Unfortunately, we all know when we’ve been ignored.

I can’t tell you the number of times we’ve had the “Why didn’t you take my call.  I know that thing is always attached to you.”argument.  We lived for years only calling people at their homes, not carrying if they didn’t answer.  Now we judge their feelings and intent on how many rings til they answer or how many minutes pass til they answer the text.  Instant contact may have made us more connected, but has it really?