you pull a muscle... bowling! Yep, you read it correctly. I don’t know when it happened, but at some point in the middle of the first game I realized that my right leg (I am left handed) was not wanting to do that little slide step at the end of the approach right before you release the bowling ball. I also noticed that if I tried to force myself to do it... um... something... in my butt region yelled out, "Are you frickin’ kiddin’ me?" I then said to myself, "Are you frickin’ kidding me?"
I ended up bowling a 113. That’s about 35 pins below what I normally bowl, you know, when my butt is in top shape. Don't worry, it's feeling all better now. We did have fun joking whether or not I needed to tape it up - or get a cortisone shot - or... well, that's all I will share in a G-rated blog!
I think there’s a certain skill level involved, though, to pull a butt muscle bowling. Hey, at least I wasn’t wearing one of those cheesy bowling shirts with an ad on the back like that team next to me! Oh, wait, that was my boss' team.... They looked soooo cool - if it were 1957.
Sunday, March 29, 2009
Saturday, March 28, 2009
FORE x2!!!!!!
So one golf lesson is in the books.
Lance, the instructor, asked what my history with golf was and I told him the truth- 2 times to the driving range in my life. He said I was holding out on how much I had actually played. He said my swing was much better than a true beginner. I bet he says that to everyone.
Anyway, I did fairly well and actually hit a couple balls. And they were almost straight.
Nobody likes to hear about someone else's golf game, so I will spare you the further details - unless you wanna hear them!
I will tell you this - I am soooo sore. I am not as young as I think I am and these weekend warrior outings are really hard to take. And on top of the golf swing soreness, I will have bowling soreness after Saturday.
And to add insult to injury my arms are not nearly long enough for my eyesight anymore. I used to make fun of "old" people who had to do arm-stretch reading. But not anymore! Getting old is really ticking me off!
Lance, the instructor, asked what my history with golf was and I told him the truth- 2 times to the driving range in my life. He said I was holding out on how much I had actually played. He said my swing was much better than a true beginner. I bet he says that to everyone.
Anyway, I did fairly well and actually hit a couple balls. And they were almost straight.
Nobody likes to hear about someone else's golf game, so I will spare you the further details - unless you wanna hear them!
I will tell you this - I am soooo sore. I am not as young as I think I am and these weekend warrior outings are really hard to take. And on top of the golf swing soreness, I will have bowling soreness after Saturday.
And to add insult to injury my arms are not nearly long enough for my eyesight anymore. I used to make fun of "old" people who had to do arm-stretch reading. But not anymore! Getting old is really ticking me off!
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
FORE!!!!!!
Tomorrow... Thursday.... March 26th, 2009.... I am no longer "Joe". From that day forward, I will be "Joe - the golfer".
I know, it's really no big deal. A lot of people golf. A lot of people chase a little white ball around a big green pasture with trees and sand and call it golf. I am now a "golfer".
I don't know if I will be any good. I can hold my own on most miniature golf courses.... but I hear that real golf is a little different. Give me a giant windmill to navigate and I am good. How much harder can real golf be???
Anyway, I have some clubs, six lessons coming, a bag, some shorts, a little rusty athletic ability, and the motivation to be good enough to not embarrass myself by August.
You might want to stay clear of the giant swinging pencil, though. And if anyone asks - I am doing it for the "excercise"!
I know, it's really no big deal. A lot of people golf. A lot of people chase a little white ball around a big green pasture with trees and sand and call it golf. I am now a "golfer".
I don't know if I will be any good. I can hold my own on most miniature golf courses.... but I hear that real golf is a little different. Give me a giant windmill to navigate and I am good. How much harder can real golf be???
Anyway, I have some clubs, six lessons coming, a bag, some shorts, a little rusty athletic ability, and the motivation to be good enough to not embarrass myself by August.
You might want to stay clear of the giant swinging pencil, though. And if anyone asks - I am doing it for the "excercise"!
Saturday, March 21, 2009
If My Hypothesis Is Correct...
Awhile back - I don't know if it was on this blog or in the mass emails I used to send out to update everyone about Cindy - I talked about how the phrase "God will not give you more than you can handle" could be interpreted a different way.
Basically, I had hypothesized that I would rise to the occasion or someone would step up to help when I was at the point where I could not handle things myself. If God wanted me to get through something, (and he does want us to succeed) He would supply the means to get through it. It would either be something that I could actually handle myself, or someone would step into the picture to address the need at the moment I needed help.
Let me tell you something. My hypothesis is correct. Wholly, correct. Now I don't want to brag - cause my actual contributions are quite small - but it is amazing what a 38 yr old guy can do when he has to. Let me correct something. My hypothesis never mentions that it would be "easy". Far from it. I would not even classify what I am going through as controllable or pleasant. And I like control of things I am involved in. Raising two kids with two parents is not easy either- it goes with the territory.
Now back to that hypothesis. I have seen that my abilities as a (now single) dad have increased. I still have trouble with the whole idea of preparing things in advance - like valentines... or school snacks... or picture orders... or clothes for the next day. After all... I am still a guy and we just don't think that way. Luckily I hit the jackpot when it came to in-laws. They have saved my butt more than a few time. I have quite a few other people who have stepped up to take the kids off my hands when time alone is needed or a lunch/dinner invite when I don't even ask. Anyway, I am making it though - the kids are making it though - we are making it though.
Only by the Grace of God!
BTW... done with the St. Patty's green. It's SPRING!
Basically, I had hypothesized that I would rise to the occasion or someone would step up to help when I was at the point where I could not handle things myself. If God wanted me to get through something, (and he does want us to succeed) He would supply the means to get through it. It would either be something that I could actually handle myself, or someone would step into the picture to address the need at the moment I needed help.
Let me tell you something. My hypothesis is correct. Wholly, correct. Now I don't want to brag - cause my actual contributions are quite small - but it is amazing what a 38 yr old guy can do when he has to. Let me correct something. My hypothesis never mentions that it would be "easy". Far from it. I would not even classify what I am going through as controllable or pleasant. And I like control of things I am involved in. Raising two kids with two parents is not easy either- it goes with the territory.
Now back to that hypothesis. I have seen that my abilities as a (now single) dad have increased. I still have trouble with the whole idea of preparing things in advance - like valentines... or school snacks... or picture orders... or clothes for the next day. After all... I am still a guy and we just don't think that way. Luckily I hit the jackpot when it came to in-laws. They have saved my butt more than a few time. I have quite a few other people who have stepped up to take the kids off my hands when time alone is needed or a lunch/dinner invite when I don't even ask. Anyway, I am making it though - the kids are making it though - we are making it though.
Only by the Grace of God!
BTW... done with the St. Patty's green. It's SPRING!
Thursday, March 5, 2009
Stories of Mom Beginning Now
One of the reasons I started this blog was to help me. Writing stuff out seems to help with my thoughts and moods. Another reason was to hopefully allow those who read this blog to get an insight into the psyche of a younger (?) man who loses a wife and how he copes with raising kids, keeping a job and getting on with his life. And if there's someone else going through this same situation, maybe they too can find some help through my words.
I realized there's someone else I am leaving out of the loop. My kids. I want them to know who Cindy was... not just through the stories I can tell and the pictures we have taken, but also through the words I can write.
So... I have started writing Stories of Mom for the kids. Because of that, my blogging will be slowed a little. Don't think I have forgotten about you voyeurs/stalkers who read this blog. I will still be posting on here, but I really want to write this other thing for the kids.
Hope you understand and I will keep these blogs coming. After all, this blog is where I do my heavy mental lifting and bulldoze the cobwebs of my mental thesaurus.
I realized there's someone else I am leaving out of the loop. My kids. I want them to know who Cindy was... not just through the stories I can tell and the pictures we have taken, but also through the words I can write.
So... I have started writing Stories of Mom for the kids. Because of that, my blogging will be slowed a little. Don't think I have forgotten about you voyeurs/stalkers who read this blog. I will still be posting on here, but I really want to write this other thing for the kids.
Hope you understand and I will keep these blogs coming. After all, this blog is where I do my heavy mental lifting and bulldoze the cobwebs of my mental thesaurus.
Sunday, March 1, 2009
Multiple Shots to the Heart
When do you stop beating yourself up? Do you stop before or after you are bruised? That’s just one of many things going through my mind lately. For those of you who know me, that will come as a surprise. "Joe has thoughts? Wow! Who knew!"
The last couple of days have been a real struggle despite my recent optimistic look on things. The kids (I love them more than I ever thought humanly possible) have been...challenging. Mander is really testing boundaries and then when pressed, apologizes "to never, ever do it again." Luker is cutting (what I hope) are his last several baby teeth and is grouchy, stubborn, and full of fits. He is also addicted to the "truck" video. Amanda picked out two DVDs as Valentines for Luke - one all about construction equipment and the other about fire trucks. The challenge with those DVDs is just how many times I can stand watching those same videos prior to my brain oozing out of my ears. Thankfully, there’s no purple dinosaur or singing kids anywhere in the DVD.
I know that dealing with kids comes with the territory of being a parent. When that kid contract was signed at the hospital to take my kids home, I knew what I was signing and what it entailed. However, I remember seeing two lines on that contract, and I signed it second! (If there only were a contract!)
I am not looking for sympathy. That is NOT what this blog is about. I am just writing. I know I have written on this topic before. But guess what? I am still beating myself up about how I am doing as a parent. I love being a dad. I have said that before. I just wonder - am I doing this right? Am I too hard on Amanda? Probably. Am I too easy on Luke? Probably. Is Amanda strong because she doesn’t want to upset me? After all, she is the one who wipes my tears away when she see them falling down my cheek. When you have someone to bounce problems off of your decisions are easier to regulate and just plain easier to make. Everyone knows daughters can wrap dads around any of their ten little fingers and still have nine fingers left for more wrapping. I have a hard time being stern with Amanda. She seems so fragile and I don’t want to "scar" her any further. Well-meaning people keep telling me that "kids can handle so much more than we give them credit for." I know that is true. But what if Amanda and Luke are the exceptions?
In professional boxing, there’s no headgear. In amateur boxing, they have head gear and a belt to protect from low blows. Unfortunately, raising kids is the big time - no safety gear is provided.
The last couple of days have been a real struggle despite my recent optimistic look on things. The kids (I love them more than I ever thought humanly possible) have been...challenging. Mander is really testing boundaries and then when pressed, apologizes "to never, ever do it again." Luker is cutting (what I hope) are his last several baby teeth and is grouchy, stubborn, and full of fits. He is also addicted to the "truck" video. Amanda picked out two DVDs as Valentines for Luke - one all about construction equipment and the other about fire trucks. The challenge with those DVDs is just how many times I can stand watching those same videos prior to my brain oozing out of my ears. Thankfully, there’s no purple dinosaur or singing kids anywhere in the DVD.
I know that dealing with kids comes with the territory of being a parent. When that kid contract was signed at the hospital to take my kids home, I knew what I was signing and what it entailed. However, I remember seeing two lines on that contract, and I signed it second! (If there only were a contract!)
I am not looking for sympathy. That is NOT what this blog is about. I am just writing. I know I have written on this topic before. But guess what? I am still beating myself up about how I am doing as a parent. I love being a dad. I have said that before. I just wonder - am I doing this right? Am I too hard on Amanda? Probably. Am I too easy on Luke? Probably. Is Amanda strong because she doesn’t want to upset me? After all, she is the one who wipes my tears away when she see them falling down my cheek. When you have someone to bounce problems off of your decisions are easier to regulate and just plain easier to make. Everyone knows daughters can wrap dads around any of their ten little fingers and still have nine fingers left for more wrapping. I have a hard time being stern with Amanda. She seems so fragile and I don’t want to "scar" her any further. Well-meaning people keep telling me that "kids can handle so much more than we give them credit for." I know that is true. But what if Amanda and Luke are the exceptions?
In professional boxing, there’s no headgear. In amateur boxing, they have head gear and a belt to protect from low blows. Unfortunately, raising kids is the big time - no safety gear is provided.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
In a side note, today at church I signed the communication card (to show attendance, prayer requests, address/phone change, etc.) "Joe & Cindy". I didn't catch what I wrote for about 10 minutes. Some habits are hard to break.
Friday, February 27, 2009
Time Heals - Slowly
I had a blog all written out Wednesday evening that was all ready for publishing. It really wasn’t good, but I thought I should put something up so you wouldn’t think I had stopped blogging, or had fallen from the face of the earth. It was about people watching and how there’s no better place to people watch than in a courtroom. If people’s lives weren’t in the balance with every decision it would be more fun. I don’t want to write about that - although if you get a chance, find out when status hearing day is scheduled, take a bag of popcorn (not really), and enjoy the show. I guarantee you will hear stuff you only get in real life dramas!
But that’s not what I am going to write about. I wanted to write about me. Sometimes, I write about my life, or my family, or my work. Sometimes I get frustrated with this current life. I have had several people ask me lately how I am doing. Before I would lie and say "ok" or "as well as I can be." Now I can honestly say, "I am doing well."
I have a routine now. I can handle the kids alone for extended periods of time if need be. ( I still prefer one at a time!) I have an understanding now of the bills and their scheduled payments. I am starting to get to sleep at a reasonable hour on most nights. Fixing dinner is not as exhausting. I have lost enough weight that some are starting to notice - couple of inches on the belt, so far. (Not trying to lose any, but it’s just happening.) Bed time is do-able. Work is under control and fun again (although one situation is not pleasant, but that is another story.) (I was in such a good mood that I decided I would call EVERYONE minus clients "Butter Cup" one day this past week. It was so much fun. Try it!)
I am determined to take up golf and become good enough to not embarrass myself. I have other fun things planned - Luke’s birthday party in April, kite-flying with Amanda, going out with friends - old and new, Miners' games in the summer, and another attempt at a Michael W. Smith concert in April. I have even added a couple of new CDs to my collection that are awesome. (TobyMac's Portable Sounds is my new all-time fav.)
What does all this mean? Time heals - slowly, but surely. I still have my moments - like earlier tonight with Amanda during bed time. I miss Cindy. Amanda misses Cindy. I told her tonight how proud I was of the way she is handling all that she has gone through. Then completely unprovoked she said, "but you know what, Dad? Maybe when me and you and Luke are still alive Jesus will come back and mom might be with Him." I said that she might be. Amanda then said, "Or, she might be back at her room getting the fruit ready. That is what I would do, I would be picking all the fruit that’s just inside the gate for the big feast."
Of course, this is the same five year old girl who said to me this morning over breakfast, "Do you know ‘99 Bottles of Beer on the Wall?" And when I asked if she knew what beer was she replied, "Well, yeah. It’s a drink that has caffeine in it. That is why I don’t drink it!"
But that’s not what I am going to write about. I wanted to write about me. Sometimes, I write about my life, or my family, or my work. Sometimes I get frustrated with this current life. I have had several people ask me lately how I am doing. Before I would lie and say "ok" or "as well as I can be." Now I can honestly say, "I am doing well."
I have a routine now. I can handle the kids alone for extended periods of time if need be. ( I still prefer one at a time!) I have an understanding now of the bills and their scheduled payments. I am starting to get to sleep at a reasonable hour on most nights. Fixing dinner is not as exhausting. I have lost enough weight that some are starting to notice - couple of inches on the belt, so far. (Not trying to lose any, but it’s just happening.) Bed time is do-able. Work is under control and fun again (although one situation is not pleasant, but that is another story.) (I was in such a good mood that I decided I would call EVERYONE minus clients "Butter Cup" one day this past week. It was so much fun. Try it!)
I am determined to take up golf and become good enough to not embarrass myself. I have other fun things planned - Luke’s birthday party in April, kite-flying with Amanda, going out with friends - old and new, Miners' games in the summer, and another attempt at a Michael W. Smith concert in April. I have even added a couple of new CDs to my collection that are awesome. (TobyMac's Portable Sounds is my new all-time fav.)
What does all this mean? Time heals - slowly, but surely. I still have my moments - like earlier tonight with Amanda during bed time. I miss Cindy. Amanda misses Cindy. I told her tonight how proud I was of the way she is handling all that she has gone through. Then completely unprovoked she said, "but you know what, Dad? Maybe when me and you and Luke are still alive Jesus will come back and mom might be with Him." I said that she might be. Amanda then said, "Or, she might be back at her room getting the fruit ready. That is what I would do, I would be picking all the fruit that’s just inside the gate for the big feast."
Of course, this is the same five year old girl who said to me this morning over breakfast, "Do you know ‘99 Bottles of Beer on the Wall?" And when I asked if she knew what beer was she replied, "Well, yeah. It’s a drink that has caffeine in it. That is why I don’t drink it!"
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