Regaining Focus

The past few days haven't been easy. I've been cranky and frustrated about things that really shouldn't be that important but are.

My husband recently purchased a Harley - he loves it. It's a stress reliever for him and I'm thankful he's got it. He works hard. He's bearing a lot of weight on his shoulders and while they're strong and well defined, it can't be easy. He needs the stress relief. My biggest reliever of stress is music. It's always been important to me. It's always helped me through tough times, sad times, happy times, physically taxing times, most times. I find meaning in the words, motivation, relaxation, inspiration and many other 'ations' in the melody. Music relaxes me like the Harley relaxes my husband. So when my iTouch disappeared last week let's just say devastated doesn't describe my feeling.

If you know me, you know I'm fairly anal retentive. Most of my house is organized and I usually know where something is all of the time. My kids will ask me where their 'whatever' is and I can usually tell them the exact spot. With my iTouch, it has most always been in my hand throughout the day so I was never concerned with its location. The other night however, I couldn't sleep and walked through the house in a daze so I'm worried I put it somewhere and can't figure out where.

I've searched and upturned the house for days looking for the darn thing and it's nowhere. I could get another one, replace most of the music and was thankful to know that iTunes would replace the music I had yet to download to my pc but that wasn't helpful. It's still gone and it's still driving me crazy that I misplaced it when it's been so important to me for so long now.

My husband didn't understand it. Music to him is background noise. It has no meaning. I can see why he feels that way but I grew up listening to music with my father and because it was so important to him, it became important to me, too. It soothes me. It keeps me grounded...keeps me focused. It's my Harley, if you will.

I am currently using my husband's old iPhone, so at least I have my music, if not my iTouch. One day it will show up. I hope.

Knowing all of that now, it's important to understand I was one crank-ass b---- for the past few days. The lost music, the lost iTouch, the PMS, it all called upon the monster within and she showed herself but good! I thank God for my family and their ability to be patient and understanding. I was on the verge of tears for practically 48 hours. It was not pretty.

Through this whole frustration, I had a few friends who needed me. I'm always surprised at that. I often feel unstable and a total mess and it shocks me when others see me as strong and reliable. It's almost laughable to me at times. I feel like I'm crumbling to pieces yet others think I know what the heck I'm talking about. Maybe I do because they seem to keep coming around. That's got to mean something right?

My friends help me keep focused and grounded. I realize that the parents of a troubled child, who are struggling with how to handle things are so much more important then losing my iTouch and I feel silly for getting all worked up about it. I need that perspective at times. Mostly because I have to be reminded it's not all about me, all of the time. Sometimes I'd sure like it to be though. Hey, at least I'm honest, right?

Aging Gracefully...or Not.

Today (actually, yesterday if I'm being specific) at Starbucks a woman approached my husband and told him he looked like Richard Gere. As of late, this is happening a lot. Previously, he's been compared to Tom Cruise but since acquiring a head full of gray hair, that comparison has been few and far between. I'm okay with that. I've never been a fan of Cruise and have no desire to see my husband sliding around the house in his underwear. Some things are just better left to the mysteries of love.

I'm not a huge fan of Richard Gere either. Yes, I find him attractive but the whole gerbil rumor has always kept him low on my "Hawt Man Meter". Currently Alex O'Laughlin (The Backup Plan, Moonlight, some stupid hospital show and currently, Hawaii 5 0-gawd his he freaking hawt!) tops my list. Next up is Rob Lowe who just gets better with age. He's like a nice bottle of Merlot. And I don't even like wine.

As for the bottom of my list, well, I just don't know. There are just too many men and too little room on the list, I guess. Anyway, my point is that Richard Gere just simply isn't on it. It's okay though. I don't find it at all insulting that my husband is being compared to him. He's attractive, has great hair and a nice smile. I can see the resemblance.

My husband has a great mix of salt and pepper in his hair. It's as if some anal retentive colorist painstakingly frosted each and every strand individually to give it a textured, flowing look. Actually, it kind of pisses me off. I've got these nasty little gray hairs poking out all over my head at random and his flows like a freaking opera. If you ask me, it's just another reason to believe God is male. The man simply has great hair, no one can argue it. I spend hours blow drying, straightening, curling, scrunching, feathering, coloring, hi-lighting and analyzing my hair and my husband gets out of the shower, towel dries it, runs a dimes worth of gel through it with his fingers and is on to the next part of his day. (Reason number two in a long, long list of reasons Carolyn thinks God is male).

I'm not saying my husband is perfect because, though he might disagree, he's not. He's a little older now and gravity has started to catch up with his stomach just a bit. Not a lot but it's there, hiding under his shirts, daring to peek out ever so slightly. Thankfully for him, it's not obvious. I mean, when your face and hair shout Richard Gere to women walking by, who cares if you have a little extra in the middle, right? My middle's hit rock bottom. It's joined forces with my upper and lower and they've become one big blob. If God were female, I'm certain I'd be 5'10" and 110 lbs. Certain. He's male. I'm sure of it.

I confess to having a few lines around the eyes now and my cheeks don't seem to be as 'tight' as before. And yes, that can be said for both sets of cheeks but right now I'm talking about the ones falling just below my chin. I'm pretty sure I'm part Shar Pei. Just a tiny bit. My husband has wrinkles, too. He's got a forehead full of lines and when he smiles, his eyes crinkle in that sexy, "Come get me" sort of way. Mine bark for food.

God has taken an attractive young man, wrapped him up in a middle-aged man package and made him even yummier than before. He's aged him with grace and refinement. He's made him an almost 45 year old bottle of fine wine most women want to try, even if it gives them a headache (and trust me, he's good at that!) For me, he's taken an attractive woman, added hair growth in places hair is not meant to grow, taken hair away from places I'd like it to stay, dropped body parts unreasonable distances, added a 22 lb baby worth of extra 'stuff' and wrapped it up in a graying, wrinkling package with a lovely muffin top for good measure. In truth, with pre-menopause knocking on my door and menopause just around the corner, God is clearly turning me into...my father. So long estrogen, hello testosterone.

Thanks.

Most men age gracefully. Mine sure has. Women however, just get old. Proof positive God is male.

Just Another Day in the Life of Me...

Sometimes it seems my life is a never-ending road of traffic lights. First the light is green and I'm moving along, starting something new or simply heading down the road and then I come to a yellow light, telling me to proceed with caution. Next I'm either faced with a green light again, though leading me in a different direction or a red light, stopping me dead in my tracks. It's a constant start, stop, think, consider, re-evaluate and then proceed yet again, road I travel.

I'm not complaining. Life is what it is and I have many blessings in mine. I'm grateful and thankful for the people, places and things I'm lucky enough to enjoy and hold dear. What I'd like is a little consistency or maybe just a road with no traffic lights every once in a while but who wouldn't want that?

I have friends who travel their own roads, full of bumps and potholes and blocks. Roads with more red lights than green. I watch them struggle to navigate their drive, often without a GPS, sometimes falling into the ditch, only to crawl back out and start the it all over again. Some don't always get back to the drive. Instead they hop on a bus and get the hell out of town. I get that. There have been many times when I've wanted to pull off the road, jump out and run. But I don't. I keep on the road and while I may pull over to let someone else drive for a while, I'm still on the road. Still moving along. I simply keep pushing through the lights and remind myself it's all part of the experience. I'm not waiting for something to happen. I'm experiencing the process of it happening. The good and the bad. The yellow lights and the red ones, too.

I don't usually like to stop. I certainly can't stand to stop and then have to start again and with a lot in my life, that seems to be the process. Take working out. I do it. Something gets in the way. I get distracted. I stop. I start up again. Something gets in the way. I get distracted. I stop. I start up again. No, I don't like it but I keep doing it. It's part of the drive...part of the experience. And instead of constantly thinking about the red light or the road ending, instead I'm training myself to enjoy the ride.