Butterflies - someone has them for you

It is no secret that I am the biggest supporter of my boys.  Home, school, sports, work - I will always have their back and brag about them to the point of embarrassment.  That is just the kind of Mom (& Daddy) I had so it is the kind of Mom I am.  I have never felt the need to apologize for it, I have never felt like a helicopter parent due to my pride - in fact, and if you as the boys they will probably agree, I am harder on them than other kids simply because I know they can reach their goals.  They both have all the tools they need to do work and accomplish whatever they set their minds too.  This is one of those proud moments for the kiddo - the one that used to be the short one.

Today I am on one of my random trips.  Some people think I am crazy, I am probably am, but sometimes I think you need to use your miles, get on a plane and go for an adventure.  This adventure took Alex & I back to Dayton - UD specifically - for the biggest game to date for our Flyers.

Today I dropped him off at the back of the Arena, a door I never knew existed in my 4 years here, so he could do work.  My son will never wear a basketball team uniform, will never make the winning free throw (and not just because he misses those - always) in a D1 game, will never be in the player hall of fame, but that kid?  He goes through the back doors to the UD Arena.  He, and his fellow managers, set up the benches, the locker rooms, the uniforms, the water bottles / towels / chairs with smiles on their faces.  If not actually on their faces, they have them inside as they know what a privilege their jobs are. Every time they enter the arena and hit the floor, they have the same butterflies the players do.  They feel every swish, every miss as if they were suited up to play.  They do their own shoot around before the players hit the court.  While I know in reality this is just shooting hoops with buddies, part of me wonders if they do it to make sure there is nothing wrong with the rims, the balls, the shot clocks.  There is nothing these managers won't do for their players, their coaches, their team.

It might not make sense to everyone, and it sounds irrational when you say it out loud to be sure, but tonight, as I am cheering on our Flyers, I will have butterflies for those men behind the bench.  For those who do work because they love it and because they know that it is their job to ensure everything behind the scenes works so their players can go and make the shots and get the win.

Moral?   Decide what you want to do, do the work, go through the secret doors and get it done. Somewhere, your mom, grandmom, dad, grandpa, brother, sister, aunt, uncle, or friend (okay, all of the above I am sure) have butterflies for you.  Know you are going to get it done right because whether you are the guys on the bench or behind it, someone has faith in you and knows you can get it done.

They inspire me

Today has been one of those days.  People are being horrible to one another, without full knowledge, without understanding, without tolerance.  Glass houses are being shattered without thought, without care about emotions, without facts.

This all scares me.  Worse, this makes me sad.

I am a passionate person, so things effect me more than they should and I acknowledge that.  I lean towards the dramatic, it is what it is.  I could apologize for it, but I can't change it as that would be changing who I am!

Today I was sad, I was worried, I was drained actually, then I went outside to get my mail.  That is when God reminded me how great our country is.  In my cul-de-sac the kids were playing life sized PacMan.  The girls and boys played together; the preteens and the elementary school kids; the Christians and the Muslims.  When they noticed me, one of the girls ran over and sat with me and the dogs and talked about her day, talked about how excited she was as her brother had a concert at school.  Her eyes were sparkling, she was so excited to support her family.  Then the other kids noticed the dogs and gave me a huge group hug before chasing their furry friends around.  It was at that point that the two little girls told me they thought my tree was inspirational.  Why?  Because the tree had to be chopped down quite drastically because half of it had fallen in the yard.  Well now, on top of the cut thick limbs, little green leaves have started to sprout.  The girls said it shows that even the dead looking stuff can regrow and that they would keep growing.  Then back to cuddling with the furry friends leaving me with a warm heart and a smile.

Y'all - remember when we were kids and played life sized PacMan with our friends no matter what they believed?  Remember when it was as easy as running around and putting cards in the spokes of our bike wheels or chasing the neighborhood dogs?  Get back to that, and get back to remembering that sometimes a tree can inspire you to keep growing.  Give the little kids a chance to inspire you, their innocence shows wisdom beyond their years.

A thank you note - no, not that kind, the musical kind

It comes as no surprise (as I say it all the time), I like to sing.  I am not a rock star, not an opera singer, I am just someone who got blessed with my parent's talent and love to sing.  Good times or bad, I sing it out.  What do I sing and why?  We'll get to that.

My parents are strong people, they had to be with the lifestyle we lived.  We moved around and yet, they always made it feel like home no matter what.  I was raised that you have to live for today and tomorrow, you can't live in yesterday so I don't.  I was raised by these amazing people and I am stronger because of them.  I hold onto memories, not houses or towns.  (Okay - it appears UD is an exception as it is now Alex's home and it is hard to let go of somewhere that clearly runs in your family's soul but that is not what this is about so moving on.)  Yesterday, I was driving to the house I bought for Alex and me when he was 1 years old and I had a moment of pause. 

See, I have leased the house out for years and am now selling it.  Yes, it is just a house, it has not been a home in a long time, but yesterday was a little hard.  I drove up to my little house with the perfect red door that I painted and brick mailbox that was a birthday present and had a moment of pause.  I wasn't expecting the emotion, wasn't expecting the hesitation that I was selling Alex's first house, that I was selling my house.  I found myself having a hard time getting past it to be honest, and that is odd for me.  I will always remember the memories, the family and friends who made the little house with a red door a home.  Run for the roses, right?  That is what we Reilly's do.  It is okay for it to be hard, it should be hard, it's how you deal with the hard that matters.

I could have cried, and if I had, that would have been fine but I didn't.  Driving away, I turned up Abba - loud - and starting singing Thank you for the Music.  Why not my soul song Dancing Queen?  Well it's simple, I was literally thanking my parents for giving me music.  Music helps me cope with life.  I was singing and laughing about closing a chapter of my life - I was coping in my own way and moving on.   I am not saying I won't have another moment of pause when I sign the closing papers, won't drive by the house in a few weeks, months, years, and smile.  That I won't have to sing again and that it will be the same song.  In fact, I can almost guarantee it won't be, I am fickle like that, but for now?  Well I am saying thank you for the music Mom and Daddy, thank you for always letting me dance and sing in my own way, to my own orchestra. Thank you for giving me music and teaching me to be strong and look forward to tomorrow.  Thank you for the music, for giving it to me.

A surprise touch might just be what is needed...

It is no secret, at least to my family, that I don't like to be touched.  Apparently, at some point when I was a perfectly behaved toddler (hahahaha that's for you Mom), I decided I didn't like being touched, loved on, hugged for longs periods of time, you name it.  Touching was out.  However, there are times that even me, supreme bubble girl, needs a kind touch, a hand to hold, a hug.

What I didn't know was that a surprise touch could calm even a person like me for a day.

I go to yoga, it is my strength training and helps me breathe. Yoga is hard.  Breathing is as important for some of us, if not all of us, in distance sports and with asthma, well let's just say I need help and leave it at that.  At the end of yoga, there is the most amazing part of the practice, chavasana.  This is where you are done with your hour long practice and you lay at peace on your back, connecting with the earth, with each other, and being grateful for your ability to share in the practice with others.  At Reef Point Yoga the wonderful yogis place a cool lemongrass towel over your head which, for me at least, helps me to forget all the worries and to dos for the day and just be in the moment.  What does this have to do with my touching issue?  I am getting to it right now so just be patient.

This week, Kathi, who I have know since the boys were little as she was their assistant principal, came around and not only put the blessed lemongrass towel over my forehead and eyes, but she then rubbed my upper arms and shoulders with this amazing gel.  I am sure it has natural relaxation powers and that is why it didn't bother me one bit to have someone rubbing my upper arms and shoulders while I was laying still with closed eyes.  In fact, between the lemongrass towel and the eucalyptus smell of the gel I was reminded of a hot bath (which I am huge fan of) and the fabulous lemongrass and eucalyptus soaps I use to take me to my happy place.

All this rambling to say, we all have something that makes us uncomfortable - mine is being touched - yet if we just let it happen once in a while, we might just be surprised.  We might just find a new happy place.  I did, and not just because yoga was done for the day.  Yoga is hard.

Go as bright, as bold, or as crazy as you can!

My current big non-work project is to turn a pink princess room (complete with a Cinderella mural on the wall) into a more serene office space.  While priming this lovely pink, my mind wanders to a little girl who probably loved this space.  It made her feel like she had her own fairy tale.  At the same time, it made me comment to my Mom 'Never paint a room pink.  No matter how much begging is involved.' Then I started priming again and had another thought.

In my old house, one that Alex & lived in for many years, the walls in his room often changed colors.  At one point, they were navy blue with glow in the dark yellow stars.  His bathroom was Texas orange, yes, the whole thing.  Even my rooms changed colors, my bedroom was pale purple for a while and my office?  Well it was red apple red.  Not for a minute did I question painting, or repainting any of those colors.  Why?  Because they were fun and they helped whatever picture of our space, either Alex's or mine, come to fruition.  And what did it hurt?  Nothing!  You can repaint, yes, it may take more time and more work, but it can be changed.

Let's be honest, life is like that too.  You can make bold, bright, crazy decisions and, for the most part, you can enjoy those decisions, live in the moment and then move onto the next one.  I have often made bold, some would say crazy, choices in life and, my life is far from perfect but it is pretty great.  My challenge for you?  Go be bold.  Be bright.  Be a little crazy.  Even if your bold and bright is as simple as painting your nails red or as big as painting a whole room.  In your life, just be as bright, bold and crazy as you want to be in the moment.  What do you have lose?  Paint your lives pink my friends!

Please note...I am not saying go be stupid or put yourself or others in danger or in pain.  As I often say, don't do anything horrible that is permanent.  Take care of you and yours, they are what makes life worth living.

Life in a small town - and the live stock that think we are crazy

I often say that I live out in the country, and compared to the 'city' I use to live in, I do.  However, compared to real country living, I do not.  Regardless, I treasure our 'small town' country days.

Today my lungs decided a simple 5k should become a battle of wits, the lungs won.  Now all of you grousing need to relax, I know and agree that a 5k is not simple but this was not timed and I got to run it in step with Nikki and in the crowd with other friends, so that makes it simpler as we always have fun and kick 5k butt. That is not the point so breathe which I couldn't so it's kind of ironic for me to tell you too.  It was in the town next to us, a city in this case but still a quiet suburb city with great trees and rolling Texas hills.  Which also are sneaky and mean.

Downtown Wylie...

Murphy City Hall

After the longest and worst 3.1 miles ever, the Big Guy and I decided to have breakfast in downtown Wylie, the very picture of a small town downtown you can find in any movie about Texas.  The flags were flying up and down the streets, the kids were running around, the antique stores were open,  and we, along with everyone else, were waiting for a table at Ballard Street Cafe.  As we ate, I was reminded how much I like the cafe.  There are football jerseys on the wall, old photos of townsfolk, and a chalk board announcing the fresh made pies for the day.  The dry erase board proud bragged about the Daily Breakfast Special (I always get it as I am a sucker for corned beef hash and sunny side up eggs - well, the yolk anyway), a special that has not changed in all the years we have been eating there.  That regularity, the old time decor, the AMHO football jerseys, all of it are comforting.  The chandelier that hangs in the middle to the room?  Well, that is just like Bill and I, a little country and a little sparkly city touch too. I will let y'all decide which is which.

I could live here...

After the ever so healthy breakfast, we hit a Vintage Market at South Fork. Yes, that South Fork.  Walking in between the various vendor tents with a glass of wine in one of our hands, beer (Coors Light of course) in the other, was peaceful in its own right but it wasn't the best part.  The best part was talking to the animals in the shadow of the house.  Now this is Texas so really it was the burning sun but you get the idea.  The longhorns, horses, mini-horses, llamas, I stopped to talk to all of them, heck I sang with the llamas.  We walked in between the barns with stalls, I for one thankful that there was a big door and gate separating me from the longhorns - they are really big in person.  While driving out, we moved out of the way for the people on horseback, they always have the right of way.  I might not be a Texan by birth, and am considered more Yankee than most by my wonderful boys, but this part of Texas and the country?  I love it.  I still want a horse...not sure why there never is one under the Christmas tree for me.

One of us ran a 5k for fun...

...one of us thinks running that far is stupid.

Of course now it is time for the Cowboys game so we are back in the 'Country House' with sleeping dogs (and a sleeping Big Guy too) in time for me to make up taco nachos.  What is the point of all this?  Well it's really quite simple.  Today could have been hot, and miserable, disappointing but instead I embraced the joy of being with my friends - and yes, I recovered my breathing, very important wedding to sing for next week so I cannot die - embraced walking around in the pasture looking at beautiful antiques and wooden signs (I need to learn how to use a saw as I know I can make a Texas sign), holding hands with the love of my life talking and singing with animals as he rolls his eyes and dares me to jump the fence, moving out of the way for the horse riders.  Already today has proven to be another great day to be alive, even in the country.

Open the door and dance through it with me

This year has brought a lot of change to my life - personally and professionally.  The kids are both in college - Go Flyers! and Gig 'Em! -  I have a new job that is providing me with new challenges and adventures.  Such an exciting year usually brings me great ideas to write about, to share, I am a writer after all.  Clearly, I took a break from the blog (latest post was January?  Ouch).  More than one person has asked why I stopped and why I haven't started again.  Last night I put some thought into the reason.

I have had great times, shared a lot - some may say too many - pictures of family fun on FB, traveled many different places and had a lot of adventures.  So why didn't I write about these?  Excellent question that is not easy to answer.

Part of me assumes that my friends and family who have already heard about my adventures are the only people who read the blog so why bother.  Part of me was too busy at times to write.  Part of me didn't want to seem like I was bragging about the good times.  Part of me had bad days I don't share with others, I don't think you should put bad 'stuff' out on the internet - bottle it up and keep it hidden, no one needs to hear about it.  All of these are excuses, and today, I get over them.

My last post - Lucky to be along for the ride - was about putting one foot in front of the other, how Alex's experiences over the past year taught me to push forward and keep going.  Well, I need to apologize to him as I stopped putting one foot in front of the other with my personal writing, I hid behind being too busy or fear that people didn't want to read what I wrote, I hid behind excuses.  More than apologizing to my family, I need to apologize to myself.  I love writing, I love sharing experiences and it doesn't matter to me who reads what I write, I love doing it for me.  I need to find that love again, that confidence again.

So today is my new start line, my new runway.  Today is when I start writing because I love to write and want to write.  Today I stop worrying that the only parts of life you share should be the happy ones.  Today I stop worrying about what people thing when I write about the good times or my wonderful family and friends.

Friends, we all have good times and bad.  We all have different ways of handling life. Well, I handle things by dancing it out, singing at the top of my lungs, by writing.  As I start my new challenge and become true to me again I challenge each of you to do the same.  Don't worry that someone else might be watching, or not, just be you.  Hope you will join me as my suitcases open more doors...I can't wait to see what is behind them as I dance through each one.