Tired

The problem with “powering through” this final traditional course is that you (ahem, I) have failed to see the toll it’s taken on me. Like a slow burn, one may not notice the wick is gone until the candle goes out. When I’m taking it week by week, once I submit a paper, then I take a day of rest. With the power on always, it can be hard to see the light beginning to flicker. Until it goes dark. In taking strides to maximize my break before beginning the next course, to have 14 days off instead of 7, I just keep plowing ahead. And there are consequences for it.

Like the constant exhaustion. And the lack of restful sleep. Much like overtraining, it plagues me until I back off. And when I finally get a chance for uninterrupted sleep, it doesn’t feel like enough. My brain forgets to process the message that it needs to rest. Go to sleep, dammit! Hopefully by the time of this post, I’ll have realized it’s just a phase and sleep will have returned to a normal pattern. Or else I’ll have stayed up way too late to watch the Super Bowl. Priorities.

So instead of complaining, or continuing to complain, here’s a recent photo of mini with her ice cream cone. She gets it. Life is too short. Eat ice cream.

________________

I ask you –

Have you been struggling with sleep?

Do you tend to power through?

Favorite ice cream brand! Braums.

(The post Tired first appeared here at Running on Fumes.)

Mama + Mini

Nov 2023

Found these matching shirts at a yearly tradition, Hangar Holiday. Many years ago it was actually held inside a hangar but it outgrew the hangar and it was difficult to coordinate community access. Now, roughly 30,000 people congregate inside an event center and shuffle their way around 250+ booths. Oh the anxiety.

Circa May 2018

Anyway, someone recently mentioned that a blog is like a digital diary. I believe the point of the mention was to keep close your precious memories and not feel the need to share everything; however, that notion directly contradicts the entirety of a blog so here we are. Although I don’t share everything on here, I try to put the important things on paper for posterity purposes only. Righhhht. Mini still holds my hand, still says I love you at the most random times, and still shares the important goings-on in her life and I still soak them all up, even at times of complete frustration because I know these are the memories I will hold tightly to when she embarks on her own away-from-home adventures and when she no longer wants to wear matching shirts.

But that’s not today so I’ll keep sharing!

__________________

I ask you –

Have you ever had matching shirts with a friend or child?

Do you own a diary? As a child, I did.

Tell me your thoughts on writing for posterity!

(The post Mama + Mini first appeared here at Running on Fumes.)

Re-Post: I’m Not That Mom

I’m a little overwhelmed from my return from beautiful Baltimore so please enjoy this repost until I have something new to share. Don’t be mistake – I have TONS of new material, I just don’t have a moment to put it in words just yet because I’m busy writing a paper that spans from 15-47 pages and includes tables with absolutely no direction, headings, or context. I promise to return to my regular funny self in approximately 7 calendar days. -Kel

…that creates elaborate birthday parties

…that can do more than two basic hairstyles

…that allows sleepovers outside of immediate family

…that has much patience with simple directions

…who is more focused on grades than kindness

…that believes in yelling or spanking

But I am that mom who –

…wakes up worrying

…over plans a weekend then accomplishes one thing

…enjoys watching my baby sleep beside me because I have no boundaries

…insists on the application of sunscreen

…prefers clothes to match

…can be overcome with laughter and forget to be mad

…asks for kisses and hugs

A polarizing topic, at best, is the way I was raised and the relationship, or lack thereof, I have with my own mother. As a parent, I know she was probably doing the best she could. But it has impacted our ability to relate and connect. As much as I love mini, I don’t believe we were ever designed to be best friends, as some parents refer to their children. I think the idea of being friends with your children is dangerous and potentially damaging due to expectations that will never be met. I’m her mom and that’s a big enough task, in my opinion. Friendships should be what she cultivates on her own, according to her own terms, and in different seasons in life. I want her to always be able to come to me with anything, yet not as a friend but as a woman who gives advice, hugs, and proper discipline.

The mom life is tough. I’m certainly not discounting dad life, grandparent life, parenting in general. Mini is never far from my mind – it’s hard raising a decent human being while attempting to set a good example because that attempt is often thwarted.

Especially when it comes to sleeping in her own bed.

________________

I ask you –

Are you a gentle parent or a structured one?

What type of childhood did you have?

Take a guess: what are the odds she’ll sleep in her own bed now that she’s seven? 1 in 7.

(The post I’m Not That Mom first appeared here at Running on Fumes.)

Day or Week or Maybe Month in Photos

Warning: language.

The 2nd time this has happened in as many months. I really need people to learn to park!

My wingwoman bought this for me in Copenhagen, Denmark. She said it instantly reminded her of me. She’s not wrong.

They gave me a paddle, of which I threatened to use on anyone within arm’s length! Seriously, though, it’s nice to be recognized.

Mini did some pumpkin patch things with her classmates. She even brought home a pumpkin! Now to convince her to carve it so I can have roasted pumpkin seeds.

_________________

I ask you –

Is there a particular phrase that resonates with your personality?

Do you like roasted pumpkin seeds?

Tell me what you have going on this month!

(The post Day or Week or Maybe Month in Photos first appeared here at Running on Fumes.)

This May Not Be For Everyone

Disclaimer: this post may not be for everyone but, as I’m uber inclusive, read at your own peril.

It amazes me every single month how far removed I am from understanding my body. I get the basics, the ins and outs, the birds and the bees, all that. But somehow after having a monthly cycle for nearly 3 decades – 3 whole decades! – I still can’t get it right. I either “forget” it’s almost that time and am entirely unprepared OR I suddenly can’t calculate how often I’ll need to go to the restroom. And, my personal favorite, is when my body does this stupid switcharoo crap, like oh you should probably change your tampon around the hour 4 mark, then the next time it should have been hour 1 and I had zero warning. So there I am – bleeding out in the bathroom, trying not to pass out, frantically using every last brain cell to navigate how to make it to the shower or a change of clothes or bed…just so we can do this again in a few hours. This is really so much fun.

Let’s not forget how truly exciting it is to pee on your tampon string because they make that thing so short. Then it’s gross and wet and your clothes are wet and I’m just angry by this point. Additionally, have a micro dose of labor-like cramps. Because a week per month couldn’t be complete without those. The best part about the whole ordeal is no matter how many weeks between cycles, somehow blessedly I forget how terrible it is until the next one creeps up on me. Supplies!

Anyone remember when mini described tampons as running sticks? What about when, without warning, she tried to pull my tampon string out of me, then giggled like the 2 yr old she was? I do remember these events well. Now, I just keep telling her we’ll talk soon, avoiding a conversation I can only imagine will go something like this…”You mean, like every month? WHY?”

I sure hope other women out there are doing it right, never forgetting, enjoying pain-free periods, with dry tampons and a clockwork cycle. But, if not, you’ve come to the right place. Because I suck at being female. And lucky for all of you I have the ability to write about the trials of a monthly period on my famously infamous public platform.

_____________________

I ask you –

No catchy questions this time unless you have something enlightening to add here.

(The post This May Not Be For Everyone first appeared here at Running on Fumes.)

Let’s Catch Up!

I recognize I just posted about this on Monday and here I am acting as if it’s a very new development. Oh well.

Part of her 4-year plan included jiujitsu and she’s happy as a clam! A rolling clam with arabesque tumbles.

Work insists I wear this fantastic name tag so they know for sure what my name is when I tell rude people to shove it. I’ve never pulled the director card but I might as well now. Relatedly, I was grocery shopping mid-power crisis (more on that shortly) when a woman approached me and said “Are you Kelly?” Taken aback, I answered affirmatively and she stated her name. Of course I exclaimed Oh Hi! as if I knew exactly who she was. Then she said we worked together a time ago and I instantly remembered her. For such a large community, it feels so small sometimes.

Sometimes I think I’d rather be a fly on the wall but then someone says something incredibly dumb or ignorant and I open my big mouth. No name tag required. Therefore, on a related note, I recently found out a coworker thought I was a colossal witch with a b upon his first interaction with me. Funny – nearly every friendship I’ve brokered has started off with the exact same story. I guess you just have to get to know me. As a self-described clown, I can’t see how anyone would think of me negatively but if it results in great relationships with wild stories, I’m all for it.

Final photo. After a particularly hot 47 hours of no electricity, the incredible lineman and power company workers perfected their excellence and returned power to my humble abode. So dramatic, Kel. I frequented Chicka D’s, took many cool showers, and attempted to not get too angry at sacrificing everything in the refrigerator.

Alas, it was a grand excuse to finally throw things away.

———————–

I ask you –

When was the last time you were out of electricity for an extended period of time? 2001. Ice storm. No power for almost 2 weeks.

How do your friendships typically begin?

Tell me how often you clean out your fridge.

(The post Let’s Catch Up! first appeared here at Running on Fumes.)

Violence is not the Answer

Recently mini had to make the very difficult decision to continue dance or try something new, namely jiujitsu. If you’ll recall, her 4-yr plan (her words, not mine) has been ballet, tap/jazz, jiujitsu, then back to dance. In an effort to ensure she wasn’t getting into something she wasn’t prepared for, we signed her up for a 1 wk trial to see how she likes jiujitsu.

Night 1:

Instructor: Why do you want to do this?

Mini: Because I’m violent.

For all that’s holy, what in the world possessed her to say that. FFS. Good grief.

However, she stepped up to the challenge and proceeded to exceed expectations, considering she was sparring (I don’t know the terminology, I’m more out of my element than the dance scene) with boys yet she held nothing back. My girl. At the end of the night, she proudly proclaimed that yes, she did want to embark on a year-long journey with the jiujitsu crew. I shouldn’t be surprised because, for months, she’s been saying she wants to pound someone which has prompted many conversations concerning how we don’t pound people and that jiujitsu is not karate.

the faces of violence

Mini’s dad offered an interesting perspective. He said this would help her with her emotions. Personally, I see no cause for concern as she displays her emotions in a very adult-like way; she simply desires to pound things and I’m here for it. Same, child. Same. If that means learning effective ways to defend herself, then go for it.

And then she can sashay her little butt right on.

________________________

I ask you –

Are you self-described as violent?

What life lessons will jiujitsu provide mini?

Tell me what you do to prevent violent tendencies! Run. Run a lot.

(The post Violence is not the Answer first appeared here at Running on Fumes.)

Re-Post: Stumper and Stumpee

(The final re-post of the week as I will be returning to life and all its challenges soon enough. For now, great tan lines and some sand volleyball will keep me company. Reality will be waiting for me when I return.)

As soon as I saw the email solicitation to attend a visit by a two-star General, admittedly I got a little excited. Not only is she a wonderful speaker but she has made waves as a pioneering female with a knack for telling it how it is. The day finally arrived, amidst lots of venue changes and confusion on the attendee list. I had my ticket and I was ready.

Let me preface the remainder of this post: upholding my unofficial call sign was not my intention. However, this was designed to be a dialogue-forum type of event. With at least 150 people. Right. The facilitator had a list of questions she asked, then the floor opened for other questions. My hand instinctively shot up.

My original question had already been asked by the facilitator. I switched on the fly. Then something unexpected happened. Maj Gen Edmondson turned on me! Instead of answering, she posed the question to me. Again, I was forced to think on the fly. That’s not my forte. I’m a planner. Fortunately, the rephrased question was met with a heartfelt and genuine response about how such a successful and ambitious woman is able to stay connected with her children while navigating a fast-paced, highly visible, demanding job. She spoke of being present at home and carving out time to connect with her teenage daughter. She mentioned being a “gymnastics mom” which she stated is unlike anything she is comfortable with. For me, it was important to be reminded that all moms, no matter where or what they do, struggle with the same issues…missing events, getting home late, having to choose between what is attainable and what is not.

As the audience was heavily military, maybe civilians didn’t feel she was relatable. However, having once worn a uniform, she and I are alike. I suspect many others in the audience are, as well, even if no question was asked. I feel I represented my squadron well, but, more importantly, her answer united many people in what we are capable of, as mothers, as people, as part of the military.

Perhaps I did not showcase “Stumper” this time. But, I did take an opportunity to be seen by a woman whom I admire from afar. And she said the word balance is total BS. I couldn’t agree more.

_____________________

I ask you –

Do you attend work functions deemed “forum-type”?

Are you the first to ask a question?

Planner vs. Spontaneous: tell me about you!

(The post Stumper and Stumpee first appeared here at Running on Fumes.)

Re-Post: Bamboozled

(While I’m away from the desk, I will be re-posting a few of my previous posts in an effort at entertainment and continuity. Enjoy!)

What’s another word for bamboozled? Let me tell you a little story –

There once was a little girl who began to come home with self-reported blurry vision and headaches. Her mother was very worried and made an eye appointment with a trusted optometrist. The closest appointment wasn’t for a few weeks so the girl’s mother called several times to ask for cancellations and open slots. Lo and behold, an appointment opened and the girl was able to be seen about 10 days before the originally scheduled appointment.

The little girl was so happy. She behaved extremely well during the exam and dilation process. But when the doctor arrived in the room, he explained there was nothing wrong with the girl’s eyesight.

But there is a behind the scenes story not many are privy to. You see, the girl’s entire family struggled with vision issues. Nearly all wore glasses or some sort of eye correction. So when the girl complained of eye problems, it came as no surprise.

Further, the girl’s eyesight seemed to change nearly daily. Sometimes she requested to sit closer to the television because she just couldn’t see. Other times she seemed fine and would sit further back. The lack of consistency in her vision was puzzling. One minute could see a sign in the distance, the next not so much. Her mother began to wonder.

When the doctor said he couldn’t find a reason for the girl’s inability to see, the mother accepted it as truthful. After all, the girl had been examined with multiple instruments, including dilation and had taken special pictures to see the entire eyeball. Fascinating really. The only thing the doctor could come up with is perhaps the girl needed a slight prescription for readers. The girl was overjoyed at this news.

Later that evening, the girl went to pick out her new pair of glasses. As she gleefully examined things through the lenses of her beautiful blue light glasses (note: blue light glasses, not readers, not a pair of glasses with any Rx tied to them), she proudly explained to anyone who would listen how her new glasses helped her see. Suddenly she was running again (which she had stopped doing for fear of falling). She showed off the glasses to strangers and asked photos be sent to all her relatives sharing her blue spectacles.

During homework that same night, the young girl read every word easier than ever. Seems blue light glasses solved her every concern, as well as knowing her many friends who also have glasses would welcome her with open arms into their exclusive club. Her teacher would be so excited for her. Her family’s admiration would live on endlessly.

The placebo effect is real. If you don’t believe me, just ask my mini. She’s an expert!

________________________

I ask you –

Did you ever bamboozle your parents?

Do you wear spectacles?

Tell me your thoughts on the placebo effect!

(The post Bamboozled first appeared here at Running on Fumes.)

Summer Update, finale

I was able to run on Monday morning which was truly the highlight of my workweek. It wasn’t blistering hot and I managed a few easy miles that I knew would carry me over until I could either run again or make it to volleyball mid-week. The volleyball happened first. We had a huge turnout with a few new faces and enough players to have 3 teams. My little volleyball dream has morphed into a following.

Mini attended a beach birthday party with a new friend, played too hard in the swimming pool, and spent her last 2 days in Cali on the couch resting. Indeed she looked exhausted at the end of the week when Spare Parts and I made the trek to retrieve her from the airport. Also, she immediately ran right past me into Part’s arms so I put her in her place. As I stood there dumbfounded. The nerve!

In doctoral news, this current class may be the death of me. No jokes. Despite being incredibly thankful the professor has painstakingly answered every question I have – soooo many of them – I still don’t know what to write to satisfy each module’s requirements. I would love for it to be more generalized so I can write the way I typically do; however, the expectations are so specific that it makes it feel impossible. I know there’s a lesson in this but right now I’m wallowing in stress and self-pity. Just a short time remaining until the sand and sea call my name from a balcony overlooking the ocean. In the meantime, mini will be glued to my side, talking endlessly, and entertaining me with her own brand of humor.

I hope I make it.

Finally, thank you all for tuning in these past 8 weeks for my sanity check during mini’s summer adventures. School will start soon enough and surely I’ll be regaling you with that experience. Hope you have an incredible Monday!

__________________

I ask you –

Have you ever attended a beach birthday party?

What’s something funny you’ve heard lately?

Tell me about your most recent struggle.

(The post Summer Update, finale first appeared here at Running on Fumes.)