Blame It on the Weather

Let’s start out with a confession. I really wanted to title this blog “Blame It on the Rain!” but since this is only my second blog post I didn't want to go there.  And, also, the beginning of the week had such nice weather to blame I didn't want to only blame the rain!

The week did start out beautiful. So many ways to get distracted! Tuesday I chaperoned my son’s Kindergarten field trip to the apple farm instead of writing.  Then the boys and I followed it up with a hike through the woods to find our first geo-cache. By the time we got home the day was wasting away and no chores were done. Wednesday’s distractions included a dog walk and bike ride. Thursday was a blur of activity although I think I did manage to sit for about an hour and a half and write a new story (which is NOT what I should have been doing with my writing time given the number of almost-finished stories I have!).  Friday was my husband’s birthday but the poor guy had to wake me up in the morning asking if he had any clean underwear. Oops. Then, after work, he was greeted with a counter full of dirty dishes and a forced birthday dinner out because there were no groceries. Double oops.

This meant that Saturday I had to find time between competition cheer practice, a football game, and a soccer tournament to get groceries both to stock up for the week and for the storm. I did have a plan, though. I carefully perused the circular, clipped my coupons, made my list and shopped online scheduling pick-up for after soccer. Silly me. First, the store called me to tell me that all pick-ups were delayed at least 30 to 60 minutes because of the volume of orders. Then, around the time of my new estimated pick-up time they called to inform me of all the things they DIDN'T have like water, soup, and D batteries. Needless to say Saturday dinner had to be eaten out as well (but not at the soccer tournament because they ran out of food!).

After church Sunday and into Monday storm prepping for me meant doing dishes, laundry, vacuuming, cleaning bathrooms, cooking and any other chore I could think of before the inevitable power outage. I even baked. Twice.  In between all my chores we were able to get in a lot of family time which was worth all the storm-prepping hassle – we played games, read books, and watched old movies. The kids even helped me bake. Twice.

I look forward to more family-time tomorrow. Bring on the rain and the wind! (Easy for me to say, I still have power. Tomorrow I could be singing a different song!)

Excuse Me!

I recently had a melanoma scare (in my head). And, quite frankly, melanoma still hasn’t been ruled out since I have yet to see the doctor (no time). During this frightening half hour I came to the realization that I could die soon. A trip to the doctor for an atypical mole that turns out to be melanoma that has spread to the lungs (my college friends KNEW I’d die of lung cancer!).

You are supposed to laugh. But, while you’re laughing I am defending myself saying “It happens!” Bob Marley died at the age of 36 of melanoma that spread to his brain. Who knew? And - are you kidding me? 36! Look at his legacy! I’m 36! What is my legacy? Sure, I have 3 kids. But what am I teaching them? To say please and thank you (some of the time); to look both ways when you cross the street (1/2 the time); to cover your mouth when you sneeze (most of the time); to wash your hands (almost all the time)?

If I go to the doctor next month and am told I have melanoma that has spread and I’m going to die in 1 year, what would great wisdoms would I want to teach my children before I go? What will they remember of me (that I yelled all the time? That I spent too much time on the computer?)?

As a wannabe writer - what do I have to show the world when I’m gone? A bunch of crappy ½ written stories and novels that my sisters (probably not my husband) will read as they throw them in the recycling bin? And, if I had 1 year to live would I spend that time writing the great American novel? Doubtful. Why? I really don’t even know – I have hundreds of excuses. I’m sure I’ve got at least one excuse each day!

You know what, though, I don’t think I’m much different than anyone in America. No different than you reading this blog (shouldn’t you be doing dishes?). Are these excuses keeping us from living a fulfilled life? (Who really cares about those dishes in the sink anyways?) Are excuses keeping us from achieving the American dream? What is that dream these days? And, does it even matter if we are happy with our excuses?

                There you have it the birth of my blog, 365 Excuses. One woman’s reasons why I may or may not be living a fulfilled life. Excuses for why I may or may not ever be a published writer. Excuses for why I have a sink full of dishes, a sticky kitchen floor, and 3 laundry baskets of clean unfolded laundry. While we are at it – the excuse for why there is cereal on the floor (my 6 year old had to get his own breakfast because Mommy was writing her blog).

                While we are being honest, it will be more like “52 Excuses.”

                Hope you enjoy!