Three Things Unthinkable

I accomplished three things this year that, a short time ago, I thought were unthinkable.

The first feat was gaining ten pounds. This sounds crazy to many people, that I chose to gain ten pounds, but I was and still am underweight by all standards. Two years ago, I fell to my lowest digits: 88 pounds. Now I am hovering around 100 again. I have flesh on my bones. Not much, but enough to notice a difference. Enough that my size zero petite Ann Taylor Loft corduroys are too snug around my hips and waist. And that, I assume, is a good thing.

After that, I continued weaning myself off of prescription tranquilizers, having been addicted for nearly four years. I took my last dose on Monday, July 11, 2011. My first day without the pills is my anniversary: July 12. It is a day I will never forget, and a day worth celebrating, as I freed my body and my mind of a harsh, brain-altering chemical.

Last but not least, I attended my daughter’s seventh birthday party at her father’s house. I helped her father’s girlfriend plan the party. She is the woman for whom he left me, nearly three years ago; I think I can safely say she was the catalyst for an inevitable divorce. We are now constant communicators, the other woman and I, working together for the benefit of my daughter. I never thought I would say this, but I cannot believe this woman is so nice.

I can only hope these three things continue to add strength, health, and fulfillment to my life.

A Season for Remembering

The sigh of summer has taken a pause, and our mouths have turned now to yawning. Bed times crept back an hour, our alarm clocks have been resuscitated, and we have, at last, a new school year full of preparation, anticipation, and exhaustion. What I find myself with at the end of the day is a child passed out in her bed by 8:30, and an empty lunch box staring me in the face. How to fill it?

This is what we do now. We fill things. The school bag, the lunch box, wallets, folders, water bottles, coolers, thermoses, dinner plates, drinking glasses, our own stomachs. In an instant, we leapt from the ease of an August afternoon and all its flexibility and rule-breaking, to The Agenda. Our task as parents: Remembering.

Remembering homework, permission slips, emergency contact cards; sun block, shoelaces, hats-jackets-scarves; soccer games, spelling tests, science projects, fall holiday fund raisers; our largest, strongest muscle: our memory.

Over the last few months, we forgot how strong that muscle is. We gave it a rest in June and July, iced it and recorded its vitals in August. We never did our pre-season training. Instead, we let Labor Day massage us even more. Now it is time for the scrimmage; next, the long drive. We must be careful not to succumb to regret, nor judge ourselves by what we forget. It’s all one big practice match.