Doing something different.

I built turned on the fire this morning, grabbed my laptop and that blissfully wonderful first cup of coffee and settled onto my new couch. My hand, of its own accord, reached down to pull the lever and…nothing. Good grief. Had I, too, succumbed to the lure of the reclining couch? Even as I type this, my hand keeps wanting to reach over the side of the arm rest and fumble for that daggone pull lever. I can’t get comfy. I’m squirming, shifting my laptop around, crossing first one leg and then the other. Wedging myself into the corner, I am finally, sort of, settled in. It’s not that comfortable, I have to say. But I would rather face a pot of decaf than admit this to My Man, also known as The One Who is Underwhelmed By The New Couch. After we unwrapped the new couch, whom I affectionately call The Blue Beauty, we stood back to stare at it for a moment: he with a definite scowl; me with beaming pleasure. As he took a breath to, I was certain, extol all of it’s beautiful blue glory, he snapped, instead, the following: “I hope you are happy with it; will love it for year’s to come; and can keep it clean.” I responded, “I am; I will; I can.” With a snort, he stomped off.

Sigh. Twenty-nine years of marriage and this is where we are.

Change is hard, y’all. Doing something different can be a challenge. I know. I’m the queen of trying to doing it different. Oh, do not get me wrong…I love my traditions: my well worn purple slippers, my Verona coffee and my favorite jeans with the hole in the thigh (from rubbing aginst my other too-chunky thigh, but that’s another post about another change for another day.) When all is said and done, I hate change. So why do I keep wanting it?

Lately, I find myself telling new mums and mums with little’s, “don’t wish this time away! I know it’s hard. I know it’s overwhelming. I know you are exhausted. But I also know you will long for this time when it is long gone!” I know, because I am there. I love where my life is right now. Truly, I do. My children are intelligent, amazing, and you heard it hear first folks, FUN young adults. My Girl and I are, I can hardly believe I am saying this, friends. We love to spend time together. And she usually initiates it. My Big Boy, finishing up his last semester of college (gulp, Russell is getting so stinkin’ old) will soon be home and, while he and I bump head’s, it is all about the control thing. Other than that, he is so much like me and also so much like his father in all the right ways, that I love spending time with him. And my Wild Boy. Oy. My heart just aches when I look at that boy. My Momma’s Boy rarely gives me the time of day, and I admit I live for a grin and a funny word from him, but I also have it on good authority that, thank You, Jesus, he, too, is smart and funny and personable and compassionate and polite. You want to talk about some change? They are all that I was not at their ages. And I am so thankful for that.

But as much as I love where they all are, I also miss my little rug rats. The slap of little foot pads on the hard wood floor; the singing and chattering of My Girl as she wakes up, smiling and happy. The thud as the Big Boy flips out of his crib, never learning to perfect his landing, always crashing to the floor until his momma got smart and just left the side down. I miss five identically clad 6 year olds, decked out in matching jersey, shorts, shin guards and cleats, jibbering and chirping behind me in the van. I miss being the Room Mom; knowing each of their teachers enough to ask about their own children and struggles and triumphs. I’m thankful for all of those years. I cherish the, “hey, Mrs. Smith!” calls I get up at the high school from kids I’ve known since Brett was in kindergarten, and even his two-year old preschool class.

My momma, who worries about my preoccupation with “change,” wisely reminded me that we are changing every minute of every day. I know that. I get that. I am not fighting that. But like the arm that wants to slip down and grab that recliner lever, it’s just going to take awhile to accept that, while some things are gone…bigger and better and bluer things have arrived.

Chat with y’all tomorrow. Love you guys.

3 thoughts on “Doing something different.

  1. I'm hanging onto every second with my boys….I have a love/hate relationship with change….right now I'm working through fear and change and that is well…scary. Ugh.

    Love you Sooz!


  2. Old habits die hard. I had to give up the wonderful, fully caffeinated coffee I drink all day for its pale decaf version. I still find myself refilling my travel mug of coffee that seems to be permanently attached to my hand. I have 3 little ones and I have literally shoveled the living room because of them. I get to play with them now and I cherish it, unless I'm trying to sleep. Keep the great posts coming!


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