Deja vu again

I sat down to write a post tonight about feeling restless, which is probably the reason why in the past 72 hours, I've contemplated getting a dog, going for a radically different haircut, and re-decorating Robbie's room. But as I thought about the post, it seemed familiar to me.

This is why: Restless.

And I'm recalling the quote from St. Augustine: "My heart is restless, O Lord, until it rests in You."

So I guess prayer is in order. Probably prayer that is offered somewhere else other than my car as I'm speeding toward the office, having left 15, 30, 45 minutes later than I'd intended, which is usually when I do my praying. I'm going to really work on building some quiet, reflective time into my days this week.

Oh, and Mike is home again, so perhaps that will help me feel a little more grounded, though I'm sure there will be some transitional moments as we all get used to being under the same roof again. But it feels good to have five of us here.

Your prayers for us are certainly appreciated. And as my Dad would say, we'll pray for you, too.

Somebody stop me!

We do NOT need a dog. I do NOT want a dog.

Then why do I keep thinking about dogs?! Is this what a midlife crisis feels like? Could almost-39 be my midlife? (Don't answer that.)

I took Charlie to the Humane Society today to meet Chyna. Sweet greyhound mix Chyna. Seven-year-old, who's gonna adopt her Chyna? She was very sweet. Built like a greyhound, though smaller and not quite as skinny.

We took her out into the fenced area. She was quite happy to leave her kennel. But once we got into the play area outside, she didn't want to have much to do with us. Charlie was disappointed that she didn't want to play ball. Instead, she tried to hide between my legs. She didn't even want a treat. Sadly (and thankfully), Chyna is not meant to be in our house. If I lived alone, Chyna would be perfect. But I live with three kids (4 if you count Mike) who want a dog that will play with them.

We went back inside where Charlie was immediately taken by Ellie, who I was not enamored by at all. Ellie looks like she would chew your face off. As soon as we walked up to the kennel she was jumping up. I could just see myself spending the next 10 years trying to wrestle the dog into submission every time the doorbell rings. Besides, Ellie's info said "I'm sweet, but I need to work on my manners." Yeah, sorry Ellie. Better luck next time.

There was another dog who caught my eye, Beto. He looked a little like Benji and was an older dog as well. But lucky for me, Beto was just fixed yesterday, so I couldn't do anything more than coo to him through the kennel fence.

So we left, blessedly dog-less, and I felt pretty good about my level of personal restraint. Until I got home and found a Facebook message from my friend Kris whovolunteers for the Humane Society and who started this whole dog talk by posting a link on her own Facebook page.

"Check out this dog in the small dog room on he HSI website. VERY cool dog, and sturdy enough for your family, I think......I had him outside and he seemed like a perfect family dog. His name is Ricky."

Ricky is an Icelandic Sheepdog mix and is two years old:

As I said earlier, somebody stop me!

To show that I'm not anti-dog, just trying to maintain sanity (or the semblance of sanity) at home, I'll encourage you dog-minded folks to help Kris in her quest to get her Brutus crowned 2010 Mutt Strutt Poster Pooch. Vote for as little as $1.

Who could say no to this face:

To read more Kris's affectionate canine, and to cast your vote for Brutus, click here.

Chaos?

Wow! What a crazy day I've had. I'm surprised I'm still awake to even write this. But amazingly, I am. The day went a bit like this:

7:30-11:00am Work from home, shower, get the kids ready for swim practice.

11:10am -- Take kids to swim practice and wait for Mike to arrive.

11:45am -- Take Annie with me to lunch (Chipotle), to the Humane Society to check out a dog (They were closed, probably a sign we do not need a dog.) and to my office.

12:45pm -- 3:15pm Work at the office.

3:30pm -- Drop Annie off at the swim meet, head to the emergency room

3:45pm - 4:50pm -- Hang out in the ER, get the all clear and head to the swim meet

5:00pm -10:00pm -- Get to the meet in time to watch Robbie's first race, watch several other races, then get drafted to be a ribbon writer. Write 100+ ribbons. Stay late for last home meet pizza party.

10:15pm -- Arrive home, put everyone to bed and watch the news about Farrah Fawcett and Michael Jackson.

What? You need some clarification about some of that? Well, the dog. We absolutely do NOT need a dog. But I saw this greyhound mix on the Humane Society website (I blame my friend Kris who posted the link on her Facebook page!) and I can't stop thinking about her. Her name is Chyna and she's 7 years old. Isn't she cute:

As I said, we do not need a dog. Of course that's what I said about a cat, too. Mike says that I am addicted to chaos. Hmmm...I'll have to think about that.

The ER trip was a $100 charge for peace of mind. I woke up this morning with a deep pain in my upper calf. Not excruciating, but noticeable. It didn't go away and seemed to be getting a little worse as the day went on. I tried rubbing it, stretching it. Nothing seemed to help.

Most ordinary people would just shrug it off. However, I am not only addicted to chaos, but six years ago I had a pulmonary embolism (blood clot in my lung). About 1/2 the people who have PEs don't live to blog about them. So, around 2:30pm, I called my doctor just to let them know and see if they had any suggestions about what to do. They told me they couldn't fit me in, but they considered the situation urgent and suggested I go to the urgent care or ER to have it checked.

So then I called my friend Beth to ask her opinion (she's a dietitian -- but that's medical enough in my book). Then I called my mom to ask her opinion. Beth called her sister-in-law who works as a physician assistant at a doc's office with a walk-in clinic. The SIL said go to the ER, that an urent care wouldn't be able to diagnose it.

Having gotten the same answer about 4 times, I reluctantly drove myself to the ER. They got me in right away (thankfully they weren't busy) and within 30 minutes or so had an ultrasound tech doing a scan of my leg. I think I apologized to the doc, the nurse and the u/s tech for coming to the ER for this, but they all assured me that with my history, I did the right thing. Whatever. Fortunately, no blood clot. A couple of random enlarged lymph nodes, but nothing to worry about. And soon I was off to the swim meet!

My leg still hurts, but at least I know it won't kill me in my sleep.

So after all that craziness (chaos?! Maybe Mike is right?), I'm hoping for a nice quiet day tomorrow.

What a difference a day makes

First, I must offer my apologies for my little pity party yesterday. That's probably what I get for blogging in the wee hours of the morning. Several of you offered quite helpful suggestions, which I appreciate.

Today, I'm in a much better frame of mind, having attended the Smaller Indiana, Bigger Ideas conference yesterday. Who knew a business-ish conference could be inspiring, or at the least, uplifting?

Smaller Indiana is a social networking site aimed at connecting business people from all industries in an attempt encourage collaboration and drive economy. Sounds boring, but really, I've met some very cool people over at SI.

So yesterday's conference was 6 speakers presenting over the course of 4 hours. Someone smartly summed up the conference theme as "Passion. Connection. Execution." I won't regurgitate all the details, but wanted to share a few tidbits that stuck with me:

Singer Jennie Devoe spoke about being authentic and true to who you are. About not letting people box you in to a persona that doesn't fit.

"Break yourself out of the box no matter what you're age," Devoe said. "Dream until you die."

Devoe is the kind of woman I'd love to have as a friend. On stage, she was funny, honest, spiritual without being overwhelming.

Dave Foresell, president of Keep Indianapolis Beautiful, was a Garrison Keillor-type story teller, immediately engaging. Talking a little of his own personal health struggles, including his recently diagnosed kidney cancer, he said (I may be paraphrasing a bit here):

"I realize what a gift this life is and I don't want to sleepwalk through it."

Foresell also used one of my favorite quotes from Abraham Heschel:

"Just to be is a blessing; just to live is holy."

The final speaker was Ken Johnson, motivational speaker and chaplain for the Indianapolis Colts. This hulking, football player-size black man was energetic and powerfully uplifting. The Twitter stream from the conference (search #sibi) was full of quotes from Ken:

"It's what you learn after you know it all that really counts."

"If you are the smartest person in your life, your circle is too small."

He told of how he encouraged his children to be eagles, soaring high above any adversity, telling them to be "an eagle, not a chicken."

"Eagles find a way. Chickens find excuses."

As a self-professed writer, I was inspired by what Johnson had to say about the power of words.

"I use words to make this world a better place."

"Words can make you feel better or bitter."

Finally, he asked a question that is still ringing inside me:

"Is anyone calling for greatness anymore?"

Smaller Indiana, Bigger Ideas was certainly worth the investment of my time. All the videos of the speakers will be posted soon on the Smaller Indiana site. I didn't leave SIBI feeling like I wanted to take on the world. But I did leave inspired to take on my kitchen, which was a significant improvement over the "I don't wannas."

I don't wanna

I have a really bad case of the "I don't wannas." The list of things I don't want to do is long.

I don't wanna go to work in the morning...

...sleep with my CPAP machine tonight

...exercise

...modify my diet

...turn off the TV and engage with people

...turn off the computer and read an actual book

...go to church on Sunday

...watch another swim meet

...clear off the dining room table

...do the laundry

I just plain don't want to do much of anything. I don't feel depressed or sad. Just unmotivated. And tired. And I don't wanna be a grown up. But I'm responsible enough that I won't let everything slide, however, that's not to say that I don't face some things kicking and screaming.

What do you do to rid yourself of the I don't wannas? Who or what is the source of your motivation?

Say what?

A few little snippets from my gang:

Annie
Annie: "Mom, I decline that I don't love you."

Me: "What did you say?

Annie: "I choose to decline I don't love you."

Me: "What?!"

Annie: "Oh, I'm trying to say I love you."

Double negatives are hard to get...

Charlie
Yesterday, Dungy was meowing wildly at the bottom of the stairs.

Me: "Dungy, what? You have food. You have water. What more could you want?"

Charlie (listening from the kitchen table): "Love."

Robbie
Obviously doing some deep thinking, this morning Robbie asked me "Does God use the Force?"

Indulging his inner artist

I was in Robbie's room last night to tuck him in bed and say prayers, when I looked up and saw this:

and this:

and this:

"Robbie! What did you do to your walls?!"

"Nothing."

"Don't tell me nothing, you colored on your walls."

"Not me. It was a ghost."

"It was a ghost my foot. Why did you do that?"

"To make it beautiful."

And then my mind turned to The Last Lecture by Randy Pausch (if you haven't read it, definitely put in on your summer reading list. It's both short and inspiring.) As a teenager, Pausch lobbied his parents to let him paint his bedroom and draw all sorts of crazy things on the walls. And his folks said yes.

The difference here is that Robbie is not a teenager and he went with the "ask forgiveness, not permission" philosophy.

So I said, "Robbie, the next time you want to make something beautiful either do it on paper or ask Mommy or Daddy if it's ok first."

But I have to admit that there is something endearing about his dinosaur art. And I don't want to be guilty of quashing his inner artist, which has shown itself before. So, I'm leaving it right where he put it.