When someone asks if I have children, how many, and how old (the answers are yes; three; ages 11, nine and six) - their response to me is usually some variation of “Wow - you’ve got your hands full!” or “You’re in the thick of it!” Typically, it’s a woman who is older than me, whose children are grown and gone. I shall call her #olderwellrestedwoman
In the spirit of self-improvement, self-awareness and other things that sound impressive, I’ve selected the word “lighter” as my word for this year. I am striving to be “lighter” in several aspects of my life, including (but not limited to): belongings, attitude and of course, my physical weight. As of late, my primary focus has been on the belongings category. And by belongings, I mean “things” – the mountains of items that find their way into my home by way of school paperwork, fast food meal toys, clothes, trinkets, craft supplies, junk mail and coffee mugs. Okay, the coffee mugs thing, I own. I created that problem. But the rest? Ugh.
My youngest just started kindergarten. I mean – MY YOUNGEST JUST STARTED KINDERGARTEN!! While moms (better moms) around the globe sent their youngest off to school, then sat at home and cried into their coffee, I gleefully skipped all the way home from the bus stop. Yes, I love her. Yes, of course I miss her during the day. But not only was she beyond ready to start school, I was ready for her to start school.
We looked like the cast of Gilligan’s Island when we arrived on Iona, windswept and green. But I quickly recovered, and also swiftly fell in love with this charming, lovely Scottish isle. I visited the Iona Abbey, sat on the beach and visited the small shops. It was incredible and I do so solemnly swear that I left a part of my heart on Iona.
On my flight, I was feeling all lucky that I snagged an exit row aisle seat. I even texted my husband and said “Yay! Exit row seat!” all braggy-like. And then fate laughed and laughed and laughed at me.
As soon as I sent the text, the guy in the window seat took his shoes off and put one of his feet up. ON the exit door. Like, really stretched that leg to get it up there. It was super sexy. Every time a flight attendant would walk by, they would tell him to put it down. He would, and as soon as they were gone, he’d put it right back up. Because he’s five, apparently. And apparently it’s okay to take your shoes off and put your damn smelly nasty feet up on display.