Not much has happened lately on my blog and I apologize to all of my 8 readers.
I have no excuse. And I have a lot of excuses that all add up to being incredibly tired for the past six weeks.
Seriously, it's been so busy around here and we've lost so much sleep that my husband and I walk around like zombies and neither one of us retain information very well.
This weekend I went to go visit a friend for her birthday back East. back East does mean Connecticut, although I guess since I live in California, anything can be considered "back East", but in my head "back East" = New England. Anyway, my husband had to ask me five times when my return flight home was. After the third time of asking me, I pulled the ol' teacher "repeat after me" game by saying, "I'm coming home on Sunday. What day am I coming home?" and he would say, "Sunday." I would then give positive reinforcement by patting his arm and saying, "Right!" and smiling big. But as any teacher knows, even this method is not always a guarantee of retainment of information, so after the fifth time he asked me, I sighed and wrote it down.
I am not blameless in this either, though, because my husband has reminded me several times of things he has on his schedule and I still end up saying things like, "You never told me that."
And before anyone starts suggesting ways of how we can remember things, please understand that we both have computer calendars, post-it note reminders placed within our line of sight around the house, and a very nice dry-erase board calendar in the upstairs hallway. It's just that we are too tired to write anything down on the calendar upstairs (that requires walking up the stairs and consciously writing on the calendar-who has the energy for that?) and we can't see our post-it notes in the kitchen because we're zombies...so we wander around mumbling our schedules to each other hoping the information will stick.
My husband did remember to pick me up at the airport. I expected this huge chorus of "Mama!" from the backseat. I expected my children to great me with hugs and kisses and shouts of joy. They were both bent over asleep in their car seats. "They've had a long weekend," my husband explained.
I did too. I had a great, long weekend.
I flew out "back East", as I stated earlier, to surprise my friend for her birthday. It wasn't just any friend, though, it was one of the only people in the world I consider a "kindred spirit", so to speak. We met twenty years ago this summer,we both were camp counselors at a christian summer camp. We did not become close, though, until the following summer, when we returned as counselors to the same camp. For some reason, the friends I made at this particular camp are sort that I consider my closest allies in navigating the world and all that life entails.
Anyway, this particular friend is probably the one I would chose if anyone had to say who is your "best friend", although that term sounds sort of silly at our age.
But remember when we were young and best friends meant you stayed up all night talking about boys and music and movie stars until all hours of the morning?
I stayed up all night talking this weekend, but our talk was the talk of grown women with responsibilities. Austistic children, children with emotional anxieties, husbands, financial troubles, relatives we struggle with, schooling, spiritual growth, spiritual needs,housework,jobs, etc...we still managed to laugh and even giggle, but it was apparent by the lines on our face and the softness of our child-bearing bodies, that we are older.
And the great thing about being a grown up is that sometimes you get to have these kinds of conversations with a glass of wine in your hand and the kind of wisdom and love that only comes with twenty years of friendship.
I came back exhausted. I can hardly think straight. And my poor husband has had parent duty all weekend, so he's exhausted too.
But it was totally worth another upcoming week of zombieland.
