Living In The Suburbs Feels Like Waiting.

February 10th, 2015

There are days I wake up and I wonder how it is I got here.

How do I live in the suburbs? How is it I have three kids? Where has the time gone?

I turned forty last year but because I was pregnant and fairly miserable with sickness, I didn’t realize it. I didn’t have a big party, or invite anyone over. I think I spent it on the couch, horizontal and probably whining about heartburn. But I turned 40. Had you asked me when I was 35 what I would be doing for my 40th birthday, I’d have said I would be at my favorite restaurant surrounded by close friends, celebrating a pretty momentous milestone. But no. Instead it was just another day, one I barely even realized. A day that came and went.

You’re supposed to realize you turn 40, right?

I turned 41 last week. And if it hadn’t been for Facebook, I’m not sure I would have remembered.

Sometimes living in the suburbs feels like waiting to die. I know that comes off as horribly depressing. And overall, I’ll contend: it’s a depressing thought. But it’s also darkly comical. Living in the suburbs feels like waiting, waiting for what? I’m not sure.

I think we plan vacations and then look forward to vacations so we don’t remember that the bigger picture—or some ultimate goal—doesn’t actually exist. There are lessons for the kids, countless practices that include balls and expensive equipment coached by parents with unfulfilling day jobs. We schedule date nights at mediocre restaurants and drink overpriced wine. We discuss the kids’ practices or that upcoming vacation. We go home, pay the sitter, and then continue to wait some more. We make schedules that repeatedly fail because of course they do when you’re dealing with snow days, sick days, train schedules, kids and other people. And when those schedules fail we come up with ways to make sure they don’t fail in the future because failing makes us feel bad. And it sucks to feel bad.

Our walkway needs to be shoveled. And the trash needs to be put out. Recycling comes every other week and if you miss the alert that they moved it due to a possible snowstorm, your garage starts to look like something out of an episode of Hoarders.

Small rodents break into your garage and lick clean the cans you didn’t properly rinse but since they likely got a big dose of dopamine and left with a full stomach it’s hard to hate them. Good for the small critters who don’t have vacations to look forward to or date nights at mediocre restaurants. They don’t have plans that fail or Common Core math tests to bitch about.

Living in the suburbs feels like waiting—waiting to return to something that matters, something bigger than yourself, something you pictured when you were 21 and graduating from a college you paid a ton of money to so they would repeatedly tell you that after you were done you could do anything; that you could change the world.

Today I grabbed a single trash bag from below our kitchen sink and went around the house tossing random pieces of crap into it. I filled that bag up within 10 minutes while the baby babbled gleefully into an empty box of tissues. That felt great so I made a plan to do it every day for two weeks. I’ll fill up a trash bag full of our shit. And items from that bag of trash will eventually end up in the middle of the Pacific Ocean floating on a sea of garbage the size of Texas because that’s what we do in the suburbs as we sit and wait for upcoming vacations: we give up gluten, wear yoga pants from lululemon, fight about parenthood, drive big cars and destroy shit.

Then one day you find yourself in the quiet car on a train headed north on the way home from a job that brings you nothing but stress and someone makes a thoughtless mistake and you think to yourself right before the car explodes into a burning inferno, “What was I waiting for?”

I want to dig through the empty cans in a drafty garage and discover happiness. I want to run these thoughts out of my head. I want to find meaning in an empty box of tissues and not spend another dime at a mediocre restaurant. I want to walk among a sea of strangers in a city where you don’t realize you’re waiting because the backdrop is forever changing and its inhabitants are fooled by distraction.


Quick Passing Thought.

January 21st, 2015

“In today’s economy, when having both parents in the workforce is an economic necessity for many families, we need affordable, high-quality childcare more than ever. It’s not a nice-to-have — it’s a must-have. It’s time we stop treating childcare as a side issue, or a women’s issue, and treat it like the national economic priority that it is for all of us.”

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Friends and Neighbors

January 2nd, 2015

We’ve lived in the suburbs for a little over a year. And it’s ok. I’d be lying if I said I loved it. The truth is, I miss living in the city. I miss it for so many reasons, and someday I hope to tackle them all, but today I’ll stick to one: friends and neighbors.

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Santa: 2014

December 16th, 2014

Try and imagine how much in the way of bribery it took to get Elliot into frame at all. OK, now double that.

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New Year’s Resolutions

December 8th, 2014

For the first time in my life I’m making a couple of New Year’s resolutions. I need to make some changes around here for the health of my brain.

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Miss Kitty Pookum

December 6th, 2014

My kitty died on Thursday. And I’m heartbroken. She was around 21-years-old. She lived with me for two decades and I feel an emptiness that is indescribable. I keep going through the motions of having her here, because she’s always been here. But now she’s not here and every time I realize this, I lose my breath.

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26.2 Miles.

November 18th, 2014

Well, I did it. It wasn’t easy. But I did it. And I have a whole, long writeup in the works but I can’t seem to find the time to truly bring it all together, so here I sit letting you know I am alive and well.

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TCS NYC Marathon

October 29th, 2014

Well, I had every intention on keeping a weekly training diary. But then my blog broke and I couldn’t get WordPress to work on my iPhone anymore. And it would have taken me too much time to troubleshoot, time I don’t seem to have these days. So, I just let it go. And now here I am, stealing a few minutes while Walter naps, vomiting up anything I can think of since my last update.

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Long Training Run: Week 6

September 4th, 2014

I ran 11.6 miles last Friday. It was a slow run due to the usual bullshit. Bellyaches started up 15 minutes in. I brought an Imodium with me and took half at that time. It didn’t stave anything off initially. But I think it may have helped overall. I walked almost an entire mile to get to the bathroom at the marina. But after that I was able to run solidly until mile 7 when I had to stop and walk to find yet another bathroom. Whatever. It is what it is. I’m getting used to this and even though it greatly messes with my overall run and therefore time, I deal with it. I have no choice.

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Mom It Down! Orange-Basil, Maple Cookies

August 27th, 2014

Commenter, eep suggested I post the recipe of the orange-basil cookies I consumed before my long run on Saturday. It’s a mega easy recipe. It’s not the healthiest cookie on earth, but when you plan on running off over 1000 calories, I think it’s OK to indulge in a cookie or four.

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