Letting Go of Perfect

Register for marathon. Check. Decide on training plan. Check.  Map out training plan to exactly 16 weeks before race. Check. Plan out runs for next two weeks including "Jack care" for the long runs.  Check.  Check out new running sneakers.  Check.  Stock pantry with fuel for long runs.  Check.  Add more songs to running play list on Ipod.  Check. Could this preparation for the start of my marathon training be any more perfect?  Everything ready to go for Day 1 of training, June 25th! Well, this was the plan.  The perfect plan.  The perfect plan that became imperfect when I caught a virus.  A most annoying virus that has held me hostage to the couch since Sunday.  Well, it would have liked to have held me hostage, but of course I escaped to attend to my daily activities as much as possible with a rest here and there.  But to run? This virus has turned my legs to heavy lead that will not lift without the help of a crane.  This of course means no running this week.  No start

In response to a text just this morning, I wrote, "Who's this?  I've lost all my contacts.  Remember when we use to know everyone's phone number by heart" The text back responded with, "yeah I do" as well as a  name I knew well, another good friend's number to add to my new list of contacts on my phone. Over the weekend, "technology savvy" me inadvertently erased everything from her brand new iphone 5 with a click of the wrong button. My only intention was to download some songs from iTunes, not void my phone of phone numbers, emails, calendar events, to do lists, and apps.  But that's what happened and as I sat at the kitchen table looking at the screen on my phone looking back at me with the icon for iTunes and a picture of my phone cord, I panicked.  My phone's screen wouldn't change no matter what button I pressed.  It was frozen. It was stuck. A groan traveled from the deep depths of my pounding heart, up my throat, and o

Be grateful for YOUR Grandparents and YOUR CHILDRENS' Grandparents... First of all I recognize that not everyone has the luck I have of wonderful parents and grandparents.  BUT if you do,  if your parents/ grandparents are great, good, or mediocre...be grateful, honor them. I recently lost my last living grandparent, my Grammie Evelyn on my Dad's side.  I had the most amazing Grandmothers, Evelyn and Emma.  I admired them and aspire to be half of all that they were.  Strong, gracious, tenacious, women who gave a lot and didn't take much back.  They were the matriarchs of our families.  They held this position with grace, love, and laughter. One Grammie, your more traditional type, the other, rather untraditional, however both women I learned from to love, give, and enjoy life.  I miss them all the time and wish I told them more when they were alive how much they meant to me.  I didn't.  I enjoyed every minute with them and told them I loved them, but I never verbalized

"Keep An Eye On Your Dreams", Stephen Edward Blevins     "Keep an eye on your dreams", a quote I've heard and read time and time again.  The author, Stephen Edward Blevins is my Dad.  The best words or wisdom do not always come from a book or a movie, or an ancient philosopher.  My words to live by came from my Dad.   "Keep an eye on your dreams" is a quote I've heard since forever ago. Since being in elementary school and hoping and wishing Santa would deliver the newest Cabbage Patch Doll under the tree and in high school when as early as my Freshman Year, I just wanted to move to Boston as soon as I graduated, I didn't care which college, just get me to Bean Town (city girl at heart)!  Once I moved out of the house (to Boston of course), this quote became the tag line at the end of every email  and every phone call shared with my Dad.   Did I get the Cabbage Patch Doll?  Yes, complete with red hair, freckles, and the name Zoe

"Mommy". "Mommy". "Why are you sleeping Mommy?"  "We're watching a movie Mommy" "Mommy, wake up!" "Mommy!" (giggle, giggle, tap, tap on my face). I remember when Jack first started his sounds.  Next, words started to form from the sounds.  First, it was Da, then Da Da.  And I'll admit, I was a bit jealous.  Why Dada first?  What about Mama?  Sure, Dada may be easier to form from a baby's first sounds, but wasn't I the one who birthed him?  Doesn't that give me dibs on hearing my name first?  Never in my wildest dreams did I think there would come a time when "Mama", "Mommy", "Mom" would make me cringe. Yet, here we were on this evening on a Monday.  A rainy Monday, the kind of dreary rainy weather that makes you want to put on sweatpants, get comfortable, and watch a movie which was exactly my plan.  On my way to pick up Jack tonight, I imagined cuddling up before bedtime w

Another weekend full of bustling activity comes to an end.  Today's trip was one to Dracut, MA to visit dear friends.  As we head home in the car this afternoon, Jack takes a snooze, the windows are down, and the music is on.  I feel relaxed as there is nothing else I could be doing at that moment other than focus on the road, sit back, and step on the gas pedal. Of course, upon driving into the driveway of home, activity stirs up again.  Jack awakes.  Legos are waiting to be played with.  Bags are ready to be unpacked. Laundry needs to begin.  Relaxation for the moment gone.  Time to unpack, think about making dinner, conjure up lunch for the next day, and put away clean, folded laundry.  I am on the move, appreciating every moment Jack plays Legos by himself so that I may straighten up the house that looks rather worn after a weekend of play. As I put away clothes in my room, I hear the pat pat pat of a little boy's feet climbing the stairs with intent.  His steps are slo

This blog is titled "Letting Go of Perfect" because that is what I aim to do.  Just that.  Let go of perfect.  Extensive therapy and self-help books have gotten me to an improved version of imperfection, but how difficult is it to let go of the ideal or at least the ideal in one's head?  Very difficult I am finding. When I set out to create this blog, I had a vision.  A big vision.  A vision in which I had hundreds of followers.  A vision in which ideas and opinions were shared publically and safely.  A vision in which people felt a sense of comfort in reading the joys and challenges of others' lives recognizing that they were not alone with their feelings.  A vision that even included an appearance on the Today Show.  If you know me well, you know this is a life goal of mine, a top activity on my bucket list.  This vision.  This big vision has taken a comfortable seat in the back of my mind for over a year now.  Ever since I learned to laugh at the trials I came ac

Cute?  Yes.  Around my age?  Likely.  Similar interests?  Maybe.  Here I am at Jack's Tee Ball game this afternoon, trying to be the "perfectly" supporting and encouraging mom all the while doing my best not to hover.  I finally get Jack to walk on the field to practice a bit with his teammates before the game starts.  I nonchalantly take a step back away from the players to lean back against the fence only to find myself side by side with this man, father of one of the littlest players, father of the young girl who helps out the Coach, which would in turn make him the husband of the coach, right?  Well, that's what I thought as I engaged in casual conversation with this man after he asks, "hey didn't I see you at the Red Apple 5K?"  Well, yes he probably did see me at the Red Apple Farm 5K.  The 5K that happened in November, almost 6 months ago!! Who remembers someone he sees 6 months ago?  Okay. He's nice.  It's cool to talk running with so