Dear Apartment Complex,
I want to apologize for being in such a hurry to abandon you for a house. I know I said I wanted a yard for my kids and my dog to play in, and I would love to be able to claim the title of “Home Owner” for the first time as a single woman, but after deciding it’s not the right time to move closer to my parents
, I’m realizing I have it pretty good because of you.
You are the Melrose Place of Transitioners. I can sit on my deck that overlooks the pool and point out all my fellow divorcees who, like me, needed a place to go to put their lives back together. I can point out the newlyweds just starting out, the retirees who no longer want the hassle of maintaining a house, the military families who know they’re only in the area for a year. It seems almost everyone here is in transition. These are my people. And I’d be crazy to rush away from a home where Friday evenings can be spent drinking wine with a neighbor whose husband is deployed while our kids eat pizza, play with dolls and make zip lines for Lego figures, fun nights that end with a child swap so the boys sleep over at my place and the girls sleep at hers.
I do still want to be a home owner, and I’ll continue brainstorming with my realtor friends and going to open houses, but for now I think I’ll enjoy Melrose Place a little while longer. And the fact that I don’t have to mow a lawn.
Your Loyal Transitioner in Building 13
Dear Physical Therapist,
Please don’t go easy on me. Kick my ass! Yell at me! Rip my toe off with that stretch cord! Whatever it takes to get me running again, please do it.
My foot starting hurting about 8 months ago. I ignored the pain until I couldn’t. X-rays. A month in a clunky boot. An unsuccessful cortisone shot. An MRI. Two surgeons telling me I needed surgery. I was tired of the drama. I had a hard time wrapping my head around the thought of surgery, but once I did, I wanted it over and done with ASAP.
So when I got the call that my cutting day was bumped up to right before the holidays because of a cancelation, I jumped on it, despite having less than a week to prepare for the aftermath of a foot surgery as a single mom.
The surgery was successful, but I’m impatient. I was working 2 days after the surgery. I quit the Percocet with more than half the pill bottle still full. I ditched the crutches after less than 2 weeks because they slowed me down. And I never forgot that my surgeon said he was running 8 weeks after he had the same surgery on both feet.
Today I am 8 weeks post-surgery. And I’m nowhere near running. Physical therapist, you’ve warned me if I push myself too much too soon, I’ll be back in surgery getting a metal rod in my big toe that will prevent me from running for the rest of my life. I keep that in mind as I wrap my dog’s leash around my toe and stretch, hoping the next time I see you, I’ll measure at more than a 20% backward bend.
You’ve also told me the St. Patrick’s Day 8k in March is too ambitious and I should shoot for the Final Mile race I’ve done with my kids the past 2 years. So I’m trying to focus less on how bummed I am that my running goals have shrunk so drastically and more on the fact that my first post-surgery run will be with my 2 favorite people on the planet.
An Impatient Patient
Dear Tae Kwon Do,
One or both of my children have tried soccer, t-ball, coach-pitch baseball, kid-pitch baseball, swimming, running, Brazilian jiu-jitsu, tennis, chess club, pottery club and science club. For one reason or another, none of these activities sparked a passion in my kids.
But then you came along, Tae Kwon Do.
Getting them to their first class was filled with pep talks and bribery, but since their first bow to the mat, they haven’t looked back. I don’t want to jinx it, but I think you’re going to be around for awhile.
A Proud Mom
Dear True Friends,
You know who you are. Some of you have been a constant in my life from the moment we met. Some of you are brand new. Others have resurfaced from my past. I want to thank you for reasons you hopefully already know. You are the reason I am where I am. You are my support and strength. You are the glow behind my smile.
Dear Bucket List,
I’m done being all talk and no action when it comes to you. At the end of 2014, I dusted you off and tackled item #1 by starting to write my novel and quickly moved on to #2 by getting myself a guitar and enlisting my father’s services as my instructor.
But that’s just the beginning.
2015 is my year. Watch out…I’m coming to get ya.
Determined and Motivated