In Which I Write about Many Many Many Different Subjects

I know you love catch-up posts, and I promised you one. And like I said, I know you've been waiting with bated breath. So here goes:

Long run on Saturday:

Hard and nasty. 20 miles was NOT just 2 more than 18. No. I swear it was 10 more than 18 and I had a worse attitude in the mix. I felt slow and tired and weak and just plain lame. And then I was a basic beast for the rest of the weekend.

HOWEVER...I think sometimes when I push myself to the outer limits of exhaustion, I end up with some remarkably emotional experiences. This can be bad (as in crying for 10 minutes about how hard 20 miles was) or it can be good (as in feeling overwhelming love for my husband, my God, my children, my friends, and gratitude for the ups and downs in life.) Really crazy "one with the universe" kind of stuff went on after the run. Loved it. This did not make up for the next 36 hours of emotional battiness, though, so I think I'll refrain from using a 20 mile run as a way to commune with the infinite, thank-you-very-much.

My general incompetence at many things:

This deserves a nice long post of its own. Let's just say that while I am good at some things (I play a mean piano, I bake decent chocolate chip cookies, I forgive quickly, I generally see the good in people, I read fast), there are many more things at which I (ummm, sorry Mom...) SUCK. These include not procrastinating, following through on important details, being organized, stopping myself from eating the fifth chocolate chip cookie of the day, reading too late at night, staying up too late at night in general, etc. etc. etc.

But by far one of my worst failings?

Packing.

Honestly. I am a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad packer. I can plan, make lists, start laundry three days in advance, swear up and down that "it will be different this time" and guess what? It's never different. I have stayed up all night trying to get things packed more than once. In fact, once I stayed up all night TWO NIGHTS before we left on vacation, just trying to get it all together. I still stayed up until 3:00 am the next night. I get distracted. I spend 1 1/2 hours on a new vacation playlist. I decide every article of clothing in the house must be washed and folded. There's the clothes for 6 people, the food for the drive, the chargers for every electronic gadget we own, the bills that must be paid...

I'm having a panic attack just thinking about it.

Twentieth Reunion:

That will get its own post.

Summer Vacation Pics:

Own post.

Driving with Ben:

Terrible. Rotten. Horrible. Mind-numbing.

I love the boy. He's a joy. He's darling. But he becomes a whiny demon when he gets strapped into a car seat. We're supposed to be going to Spokane to see Dave's brother this weekend. I want to cry when I think about it.

First week of school:

Oh. Sweet joy.

I felt so guilty before school started. I felt terrible for being angry at the fighting children. I felt worse when I told them how happy I was that they were going back to school. My mother-in-law swears she was terribly sad for the first day of school every year. She missed her children dreadfully when they left. I somehow think that's a sign of good mothering. If it is, however, I'm the poster child for bad mothering. The first day they were in school I couldn't believe how much less stress I felt. Whew.

So I love them, those sweet children of mine, but it's OK for all of us to get a break from each other a few days a week. (That judging voice in my head? I'm trying to shut her up. She still thinks I should feel guilty...)

The one caveat: I truly miss Kate. It's easier to have only Ben around, but I miss having her around to play with him. I miss practicing with her while Ben naps. Sigh. (Now the judging voice is becoming more shrill. "You should enjoy all your children equally." Shrew. Keep your judging to yourself.)

And the showings:

Hate them. Love that my house is clean most of the time, though. Today I got a call at 9:50 that someone wanted to see the house between 11 and 1. I sent Ben to Liz's and did the cleaning blitz.

Got home at 1:15. No one showed. Nice.

So there you have it. A lovely little catch-up for all of you. Pictures next time.