Time

One of my goals this summer is to get into some sort of good exercise routine. For me and my body, we are looking at squats, pushups and free weights. Yesterday, I started strong with 10 squats. I refer to them as “ballerina squats.” This goes back many many years when for a hot minute I took ballet class. So, really the squats are more like a plie. I used my bathroom counter as a makeshift ballet barre because let’s face it, I have no balance. With perfect form, I knocked out ten. I could feel the burn, felt I accomplished something, and on I went with my day.

This morning, I could not walk. I mean I could walk, much like an elderly woman would walk hunchbacked over her walker. This was me, all day. I mean just touching my upper thigh I could feel the muscle burn. So, I am assuming I did the “ballerina squats” perfectly unless you are Vinnie, his theory is “You jacked something up.”

Because I could barely walk, the girls and I had somewhat of a low key day. I had to take Vinnie to work, and let me tell you going down my apartment complex stairs was pure hell.

Aj and his girlfriend are going through a hard time right now. I wish I could tell you more about it, but AJ has spies who read my blog, and if it gets back to him that I talked about their problems, then, I am in trouble. Now, because of the hard time they are going through, he asked if I would be able to drop off some dog food for their dog. Well, Duh! I am not, will not let an animal suffer because of someone else’s mistakes. Off to the grocery store I went, walking in slow motion, like a hunchbacked elderly woman on her walker. You can imagine the looks I was getting. Anywhere from annoyance to pity. Whatever, come talk to me in September when my thighs are looking pretty good!

Slowly, I loaded up my car and decided to meet AJ at work to drop off the dog food. AJ is a groundskeeper/maintenance at a local apartment complex. I pull up, see him coming out, he is in his paint-stained work attire, looking pretty good. He is a hard worker. No one has ever disputed that.

AJ and I are outside talking. We are talking about the hard times him and his girlfriend are going through, hard times that he had nothing to do with it, but hard times that he will work to fix because at his core, he is a good guy.

He gets a phone call from the office. Apparently, he needs to go unlock one of the laundry rooms. As soon as he tells me that, a young gentleman exits the office. AJ looks at me, “Oh, I bet that’s him. Hold on Mom.”

“Excuse me, Sir, are you the one who needed a key to the laundry room?”

“Yes, it’s me.”

AJ takes out his work keys, pulls one off and hands it to the young gentleman.

“Here ya go.”

The young gentleman looks at him confused. “Thank you, I will bring it back in five minutes.”

“No, do not worry about it, keep that one, all residents are supposed to have one.”

The young gentleman thanked AJ and off he went with his new laundry room key.

It was at that exact moment that I realized I am either a young old person or an old young person. The fact that I could barely walk did not help.

Here I am watching my twenty-four year old son at work. He is in his element. He is a fixer, and even though he will have to work his ass off to fix this recent hardship, he will do it. Meanwhile, I have Vinnie who is in the very beginning of his college career, followed by my girls who are in their prime tween/teen years. You see what I mean, I am either a pretty cool, hip, young old person, or, a pretty cool, hip, old young person.

I suppose depending on the day, it could go either way.

However, I do enjoy this time. Each one of my kids are on different journeys. I am lucky enough to have a front seat to it all.

As for me, well, I am still trying to find my groove. I am waiting to hear back from jobs, wondering where it is I will be working in a few short months. It’s both stressful and, well, stressful. Today marks one week since school let out and summer vacation began. I have been working on a blog for about three weeks now. An important blog for me, probably not so much for others.

So much of my identity was caught up in this school, the people, my own children, the PTA, being a Room Mom, and now, it’s nothing. So, I try to sit and write my story. A story that spans the last seven years. I just cannot finish it, because once I know it is finished and I hit the “publish” button ,well, that is my final good-bye, and I am not good with good-byes, so I wait.

I wait because I am either an old young person or a young old person.

 

 

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