vacation in richmond...

we were supposed to go to the o.a.r. concert in maryland this weekend. we got the tickets like forever-a-go but our babysitting fell through at the last minute which royally screwed us. we decided to vacation in richmond (in the summer) instead.

we have done this before sans children- let me tell you, there is a huge difference. there were drunken nights and dancing until dawn. leisure breakfasts and museum afternooons, it was magical. with kids, not so much...

some conclusions i've come to -

we discovered that the movie monster house is definitely too scary for a 3 year old when jorge had to take jack out 2 minutes into the movie. duh! i know, but he really wanted to try after repeated questioning from us.

we should have gone to a hotel. no matter what we do we can not seem to get cool in our city apartment. it was so miserable, not even cheesy romantic comedies could make it bearable...

it was too hot to even walk around in our neighborhood. we actually drove 5 blocks to our byrd discounted theater to watch over the hedge in hopes of redeeming jack's bad movie experience. jorge and i slept through the entire movie in the air conditioning.

being "in town" required me to make one stop at work- a place i'm trying to avoid at all costs...

and then right in the middle of our mini-vacation, a big bomb drops. jorge's parents are separated...*sigh* there are not many times in the last 14 years that i have seen my very best friend sad. like really sad... i am the talk-about-it-until-it's-processed-to-death kind of sad person whereas jorge is a silent kind of sad person.
it was so hard, i kept thinking about this post and how uncomfortable i am with silence. i just want to do, say, believe, hope- anything that would relieve the pain of the person i love most on this earth. but really, just being together and quiet was what was needed most and i suck at that.

i have to say i'm looking forward to fall, even though there is still a month of summer left.

the summer of...

this has been the summer of...

organic produce
strengths finder
seal team physical training
popsicles
never feeling cool
high school musical
sheer emotional exhaustion

boxed in...

i hate feeling like i don't have any options. it must be a letters thing http://www.personalitypage.com/
or something. i like to know there are in fact at least 32 flavors when i'm deciding on ice cream even though i always choose the same two. mint chocolate chip and some form of peanut butter and chocolate in case you were wondering...

i have felt very boxed in, trapped, at the end of my rope sort of feelings in my job for the last year. i desperately wanted to quit but was afraid to give up the money, flexibility, and extras it provided my family. as time went on the scale started tipping, was the work drama worth all of that ? after awhile it seemed that there had to be some greater lesson, the kind you have to sort out or learn or you'll just be carrying that shit with you to the next place you go. so after being completely broken down, i surrendered and accepted the truth . i gathered my strength and faced the demon head on and then something weird and kind of amazing happened. i felt free, like suddenly there were lots of options- even in my shitty job.

when the dust in my soul settled, it was quiet. it hasn't been peaceful in so long. i got two calls that week, someone offered me a job somewhere else and a call for an opportunity i didn't even realize i've been preparing for all along. one of these isn't even really an option, it's more like in the dream category. i guess we are never really boxed in. it's just that we might not consider the options we have. or maybe we are trying to make the path instead of the path finding us...

josiah's recycling...

Turning six has made a huge impact on Josiah. His world has been instantly broadened by the biggest rite of passage in his short life- watching star wars. Even the tivo was tired of playing the discovery channel’s Science of Star Wars as it served as the authority of all things darth vader when he was merely five. It fueled the obsession, along with complex lego constructions and plastic light sabers. The time had finally come and the movie was all it was cracked up to be and more. The viewing gave way to empower many more requests “now that I’m six”.
The force is with Josiah, his mind is swirling with new ideas and possibilities.

While star wars is still foremost in his mind, recycling has become a close second. Everywhere we go he insists that he needs to take trash home for a very important project. The little ketchup cups at Wendy’s are necessary for bionicle building, the Cold Stone creamery bowl must be washed out in the bathroom because it would be the perfect top to a submarine, and he’s sure he will need the cup carrier at Baja Fresh for something although he’s not quite sure what that something is yet. And yes, we are eating a lot of fast food these days.

I keep reminding myself that this form of art is indeed important to his development and we aren’t just hauling a bunch of crap home. This trash is disguised as treasure. Josiah can see, he can see the treasure…the perfect thing that will complete or serve an important part of the whole. This is beauty to Josiah, the kind that we miss or never even care to consider.

I realized I’ve been doing a little recycling of my own lately. I’m sad to say it’s the worst kind. Recycling old thoughts, old anger and hurt in my heart. Feelings of insecurity, constant questioning, just believing that I suck. Things I thought had been thrown away. My job is like a magnet for bringing these things to the surface. I feel the force or maybe the darkside pulling down my soul. It’s been years since I was so full of self-doubt. The difference is I can see them now, I call them out but struggle to relinquish any power to them. They consume me, they drain my hope...

I keep searching for a new place to put this garbage but there is more this time and it doesn't seem to fit in the can anymore. Maybe I’m missing the point. I keep trying to throw them away, hoping they will never return but maybe they are meant to be recycled, maybe even woven or painted into the art that is my life. I always choose the bright colors, but the dark hues give my canvas depth and a richness I never knew I needed.
My recycling must be transformed into something meaningful, at least to me. Then I can look at it, really look at it and see the purpose, feel the pain, accept the past and love the future. I guess in time I can be like Josiah- viewing everything in my world as a possiblility, something to create, something to make my own, something beautiful to me...