There’s really no rhyme or reason with you
I set myself up again
I worked out, didn’t eat too late
Drink too much
Showered, and didn’t wait too late
I brushed my hair up, away from my face
Temperature of the room was just right
The pets and kids were quiet, television off
It seemed like the mood was just right
I was gleeful with anticipation to share another night with you
Yet you stood me up, left me to my own thoughts
Left me restless, basically totally screwed
My alarm is now blaring, the sun is peeking in
I’m starting my morning grouchy and pissed off
Oh sleep, why did you do this to me again?
We both know I’ll be back tonight, hopeful, just the same as before
I suppose I better get dressed now…
I have not another minute to fight with you
I don’t know why you do this to me
There’s really no rhyme or reason with you
I woke up this morning to the site of a closet overflowing. Filled from top to bottom with shoes, hats, clothing and random belts and purses lopsided on the shelf. It’s clear our impending move could not come at a better time, we’ve outgrown our space. In years past, waking up to this site would have immediately put a crooked smile on my face and urged me to overlook really important things in life to reorganize this dastardly site. Thank goodness I’ve matured a bit in this lifetime.
Today, instead of the crooked smile it made me fondly look at my husband as I remembered my life just a few short years ago. When we began dating he would poke fun at the organization of my closet. The color coding, the neatly placed belts and shoes, the boxes filled with neatly stacked purses and more. While he appreciated the organization, I recall him saying to me one day “there’s no room in your closet for me?” He then went on to explain that I parked in the very middle of my 2 car garage, I utilized every single inch of space in the closet, all the drawers in my dresser and I often had a single Dr. Pepper in the refrigerator. I, of course, took his observations to mean that I was a super put together single woman powerhouse and what more could he want from me? The observations said to him the available space in my life was looking extremely limited and where exactly did he fit in this picture? After giving this clever metaphor some thought it turns out he was absolutely right! As much as I enjoyed spending time together I had never considered “making room for him” in that way inside of my tidy little life. I mean, why in the world would I ever consider a new system in my closet, garage, or Dr. Pepper runs? It had been that way for years! Well, you do consider those things when you open your heart to everything love has to offer. I was guarded, he recognized that and the clever metaphor was the beginning of the end of my single lifestyle as I knew it.
In four years I managed to take the color coded closet (still is on my side-ha!) and make room for his not so color coded semi organized WE closet. It started with me clearing a drawer for him and that drawer turned into a marriage. So you see, I couldn’t be happier to wake up to a closet that is far from the closet of my dreams. It will forever represent a part of myself that I had to let go and remind me daily of all that I gained by doing so.
My single closet is now a distant memory but I’d like to challenge any single women looking for love to inventory their single ways, how much space is available for Mr. Right?
Morning breath, Syrup, Eggs and Orange Juice
Sweeping, sleeping, dancing, cleaning and ringing door bells too
Chatty mornings on the phone, paper crinkling, and newsfeeds scrolling on
Cats meowing, dogs barking, and child’s play on high
Spooning in bed, playing footsie
Morning sex? Yes! Okay
Steamy showers, cologne, lotion, and coffee mixed with perfume
Kids bed head, curling irons heating, and laundry on the stairs
Open windows, cool winter breeze and sun pouring in
To do lists, trash overflowing, laughs and what to do on the brain
Dryer sheets, folding clothes, and possible nap time on the way
More sex, maybe? Okay, yes!
Blair cartoons and sneak away
Closed door romance, music, and what did I forget to do?
Door knocks, Lifetime and mangled hair dos
Jeans and tees, no ironing
All the food you can eat
Cheat day, sleep day, me day or we day
Saturday Shenanigans, the best! Who cares what we do!
Gender stereotypes continue to hurt our children. I’ve had this discussion many times with parents of boys who are uninterested in football, video games or things that society says “boys should do”. Individuality has no boundaries, and no rules other than what we place on ourselves. This is a problem for society to change, the children shouldn’t have to.
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FOLSOM, Calif. – A community is mourning the death of a middle school student who took his own life after alleged bullying over cheerleading.
Friends say 12-year-old Ronin Shimizu left Folsom Middle School last year because he was teased about wanting to become a cheerleader on the school squad.
So, he enrolled in a home-school program , according to FOX40.
“Bullying him because of cheerleading…it’s not right. It’s what he loves to do and that’s a human right to do that,” said 11-year-old Mia Kleinbardt.
“Well…we were aware of allegations of bulling. I can’t speak to specific allegations but like all allegations we investigate them fully,” said school district spokesman Dan Thigpen.
“I heard thasomebody called the bullies and told them that he passed away and they were like shocked…like realized..learned their lesson on how words can hurt,” said Riley.
Those who loved Ronin can only hope…
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Is there anything worse than coming out from a meeting or lunch that ran late and having a parking ticket on your car? Well today, as I was parking, I noticed the meter maids lurking about on the street. I also noticed the car beside me either didn’t bother to pay parking (which is always a possibility) or he was in fact running late (it happens). Whether they paid parking or not didn’t matter to me and we have to take this attitude more often in life when opting to do a good deed. I paid for my parking, and I also dropped another 30 minutes into a perfect stranger’s meter. Again, whether the perfect stranger realizes their tardiness was covered doesn’t matter to me. I’d like to think I just reserved a small piece of good karma somewhere in the universe. Perhaps in the form of my very own perfect fairy day maker? Let’s face it, the meter maids are a lot faster than we are! We could all use a little help from time to time!
You too can be a Fairy Day Maker! It’s the little gestures that make a big difference.