Peas and Carrots

That's how Brian and I go together. We're not exactly alike and we're not opposites, though we do compliment each other's personality.  He's mellow and even keel while I'm passionate and tightly wound.  We have a lot of the same interests, but we also have our own and we respect the other's.  He likes to mountain bike with his friends, and I like to run and work out with mine so we take turns.  He likes to work on the cars and yard, and I like to manage the kids' schedules and do volunteer work.  It works.  Quite simply, we're paired well.

And he knows me.  Better than anyone.  When my parents came to visit a few weeks ago, Brian surprised me with a birthday get-away all about hiking.  He planned a short trip to Tucson to hike Picacho Peak and Ventana Canyon.  Both were about three hours long, but one was adventurous while the other was gorgeous.  This was one of the best birthday presents ever.  So thoughtful, though if I ever start to get cocky about my level of fitness all I have to do is something athletic with Brian to remind me that I can always work harder.  The dude is fit.

Picacho Peak was a challenging hike because it includes tough terrain and nearly a 2000 ft elevation gain.  The gain is divided though.  You start out climbing the steepest switchbacks I've ever hiked, descend quickly, and climb steeply again.  You reverse that pattern on the way back.  It was tough, but we both felt a little badass on those cables.  It was one thrilling and fun hike.

Picacho Peak is about halfway between Phoenix and Tucscon so we hiked it first thing that morning on the way.  Afterwards, we had lunch and checked into our hotel and relaxed by the pool for the afternoon.  We stayed in an off the beaten path resort against the mountains. It was nothing fancy. I find posh, upscale resorts a bit intimidating and sometimes have a hard time stomaching the clientele at those places.  I don't need two valets standing in the doorway of the lobby waiting to open the doors for me, but some people who stay there apparently do.  I prefer charming and quaint, and that's exactly what it was.  He found a delightful mom and pop Mexican place in Historic Tucson where we enjoyed dinner on the patio.  

The next morning, we made our way to the Ventana Canyon trailhead for another challenging hike to the maiden pools.  This time of year the canyon is so lush, and wildflowers of all colors are blooming.  The scenery against the deep azure blue sky was so stunning that we couldn't get over how beautiful the desert was.  We saw a few snakes, a Gila monster--a rare sighting!--and not very many people at all.  It was like we had the whole place to ourselves so we enjoyed our surroundings and each other.  I started to get pretty tired on the way back.  I don't know if I lost my balance or tripped on a rock, but before I knew it I was on my way down.  I landed in something prickly, too.  No major scrapes, but my palm was filled with a lot of teeny tiny needles.  Not to worry.  The restrooms at the Loews Ventana Canyon Resort were the best post-hike digs ever, and their real washcloths were a big help in getting all those needles out painlessly. Thank you, fancy resort clientele whom I kinda sorta insulted in the previous paragraph, for paying for my real washcloth.  It was lovely.

After a relaxing and well-deserved lunch, we headed for home.  We don't get the opportunity to take many trips like this where it's just the two of us.  With young children, a stressful and heavy workload coupled with long hours, and over-scheduled volunteer commitments it can be easy to get so caught up in the tasks of everyday life that spouses begin to drift apart or, much worse, lose each other completely.  This is a tough time of life--comfortable in both good and dicey ways.  Some feel unfulfilled. Some get restless.  Some go astray.  Brian and I realized this over the past two years or so, and we decided we're never going to be one of those couples that gets lost.  We've seen what can happen and we think we know how to prevent it.  On the way down from Picacho Peak, two men were climbing and one asked me, "Whose idea was this--yours or his?"  I suppose he was expecting me to say it was Brian's idea, but without even thinking I replied, "Both. We're a team."  It's the truth.  We're a match.  And we won't give up.

Girls on the Run

I signed up a few months ago to be a Running Buddy for the Girls on the Run 5K.  It's a unique organization that does something I believe in--empowering girls through physical activity.  As much as I'd love to bring this program to my daughter's school, I need another project like I need a hole in the head.  I thought being a Running Buddy would be a smarter way to get involved right now.  

I was paired up with an eleven year old girl who has been training the past twelve weeks to run her first 5K.  She's also learned the importance of teamwork, being yourself, and believing in yourself.  See why I love Girls on the Run so much?  Although she was tired, hot, and had some problems with her shoes, she persevered!  I stayed with her no matter her pace.  "Nice and easy" is a hard concept for an eleven year old to grasp so we did a lot of sprints followed by walking.  She crossed that finish line with a huge smile on her face and so did I. 

The energy at this event was magical.  Third through fifth grade girls and their parents were everywhere.  Running coaches and running buddies were all around offering support.  Taylor Swift and One Direction were blaring, and there were pink shirts, hair ribbons, and tutus galore.  Oddly, The Doors were playing as Neeyah and I crossed the finish line.  Today she found herself on the other side of her first 5K race, and she was so proud.  I loved this experience!

Oh my my, Oh hell yes

A mere two hours after my parents arrived a few weeks ago, Dad and I were karaoke-ing to Tom Petty.  Yeah, that's right.  I like my dad's music.  Although he wasn't a musician, he always had music playing at home.  And I was always listening.  I still am. My radio dial (why yes I still listen to the regular radio in the car) is set to the classic rock station often, and my Pandora stations are diverse. Many songs take me back to my childhood but sound a lot different to me now.  No wonder my mother was aghast when she heard me singing some of those lyrics around the house.  "I just don't think that's something an eleven year-old girl should be singing about, that's all."  She probably didn't care to hear my horrible singing voice, either.

What Dad and I lack in talent and musical ability, we make up for with a deep appreciation for those who can sing and play well.  That doesn't mean we don't try.  When I was little, Dad bought my brother and me a Baldwin piano (because that's what Billy Joel played).  Except my parents signed us up for lessons with the mean lady who lived behind us and taught only classical piano.  Sure I can play...classical songs he never heard of and without much soul.  It wasn't what he had in mind, and I didn't enjoy it as much as I could have.

I've gotten back into playing music lately.  I'm going to say it's because of my kids.  They both play the piano, and they've motivated me to play again.  I play the way I used to--without much spirit.  I'm trying harder.  I also tried something else.  A few months ago I created a simple "Let It Be" arrangement for Elizabeth and that was very fulfilling.  I obviously didn't write a song, but it was my first attempt at transcribing music.  I used a 30-day trial license for songwriting software so it looks pretty official.  It's only two pages, but it nearly took me the full thirty days.  It was slow-going, but I kept at it and refused to quit even though I pretty much had to learn everything about how to do it on my own.  I'm like that. I don't quit.

Over the past couple weeks, I've switched it up again by trying to learn guitar.  It started as a joke a few months ago between friends, but I have always wished I could play.  This, too, is slow-going.  And why did no one tell me how painful this would be?  My fingers!  I don't know how I'm supposed to practice for longer than three minutes when it hurts so bad.  I'm probably doing it all wrong; my teacher is on YouTube after all.  You have to start somewhere and a borrowed guitar and free online tutorials fit my budget.  Brian says I look like Taylor Swift's mom.



Maybe I do.  Who cares?  All I know is I'm not quitting.  I don't think my friend Jennifer and I will be gigging anytime soon (ever) and what good is knowing how to play the guitar if you can't sing?  Really now.  But I'm having fun with it anyway, and Elizabeth thinks it's pretty cool.  I think she's going to end up like Dad and me. We like it!

Lame Duck

I'm at a crossroads here.  For the past five years, I've been very involved at my children's elementary school.   It's been fun; I've made a lot of close friends.  It's been fulfilling; I feel I did my best and that our PTO teams were able to provide the school with valuable programs, supplies, and fun and educational community-building events.  It's been rewarding; I know my kids were excited to see me at school helping their classroom teachers, going on field trips, teaching art lessons, and enjoying assemblies with them.  It was an honor; over the years I received a volunteer award from the school district and was named our school's volunteer of the year along with my dear friend. We kind of go together at Humphrey, she and I.

Last week, our second to last PTO meeting of the year was held.  It's the meeting where board members are nominated for the next school year, and I asked to not be nominated.  It's a relief to know that I won't have to worry about a lot of the things I've worried about every year, but I also feel a sense of sadness in stepping down.  I loved it.  I really did.  But the past tense is what I focus on in those statements.  Although I will always be passionate about my children's education and doing the most that I can for their schools, it doesn't really matter to me whether we have pizza or hot dogs at the holiday boutique or what the new t-shirt design should look like or whether we should have a fundraiser at the skating rink or at the jump park.  Those things used to matter to me but not anymore.  There are new parents at school who care about those things and there always will need to be, so I'm grateful that they are now stepping up to the plate and taking over where we left off.  Ahhhhh, it's the circle of life.

The only trouble is...now what?  My parents paid for four years of college for my finance degree.  I should put that to good use but talk about losing passion in something....  The brokerage industry was never for me.  What kind of job is for me?  What am I qualified to do right now?  Or do I want to do something for which I need to go through more school first?  This evening I went to a school district override committee meeting.  Maybe that would be a good next step for me, a graduation from the elementary school PTO board to helping pass an override that would support the entire district.

I don't need to decide tonight, but I have a lot of thinking and soul-searching to do.  In any case, it's time to move on.

Spring Cleaning

Oh dear. It appears I've played the worst April Fool's Day joke on myself. I scheduled this week for spring cleaning my house. By the end of this week, my house will look the way it's supposed to from top to bottom!, said I to me. It's perfect timing as my parents are arriving on Tuesday for a ten-day stay. I normally clean before house guests arrive, but this time I could really impress with an immaculate house including orderly closets, drawers, and cabinets. Honestly, that's not what motivated me. When we went on our spring break vacation two weeks ago, I left the house in not the best of conditions. I had the very morbid thought that if I was not able to return home from this vacation and my parents or my in-laws had to go through my house, I would be so mortified. Even in death I'm an anxious person. So I better get my shizz together already so no one says, "Oh my goodness. I had no idea they lived like this."  And also because it would be lovely to live in cleanliness and organization while I'm alive.

Three hours into Spring Cleaning 2013 I realize a) Geez oh man, I'm making a bigger mess, b) this is going to take more than a week, and c) I need a freaking break. It could take me an entire year to get everything in order. In fact, maybe that's what I should do full-time. Right. As if not working and phoning-in PTO board and Girl Scout leader positions aren't unfulfilling enough. Good plan, Sara. Don't make me laugh.

I did make some progress by going through the guest bathroom vanity. There was not much order, but now there is order. Victory! I moved on to the guest bedroom and there were many things not currently being used in the chest of drawers (Gift bags, anyone? Seriously. Anyone?). Do I keep stuff because I might need it later or throw it away, and if I keep it where do I store it now? Decision making is the worst. The worst! If I was able to make decisions on a regular basis, I wouldn't be in this mess right now. Literally. I read in an organization book that piles are only unmade decisions. True dat. Fo sho. I must get better at decision making. Ha! Another joke! I am cracking myself up today.

Ok. Break's over. Back to it for two more hours. I'm making this house my sanctuary 'cause it's here that I've got to stay.  And what'd he say...something about going through hell before you get to heaven? Sigh. Yes.