Lately my friends have been revealing a lot about MY personal life. They educate me on things like Ryan's job changes, future moves or if we are going to have more kids... some things I don't even know about. I usually shrug and laugh and inform them that "Ryan doesn't talk to me."
Honestly, Ryan does talk to me. We talk about these important life decisions, but those conversations often don't come to a conclusion. We never actually decide on an answer, probably because we get distracted by kids, work, callings, the latest episode of Friday Night Lights on Netflix, etc.
As friends clue me in on my life, I have started to realize that Ryan does, on his own, come to conclusions about our future decisions; and then he tells his friends, the husbands of my friends; who go home and inform my friends; who blab it all to me.
As a group of friends, we were laughing (because I really do think it is funny) about how far in the dark I really am about my future plans and my friend's husband said, "Megan, if you want to get Ryan talking, you need to go golfing with him."
It suddenly all made sense. If you have four hours alone with someone on a quiet golf course, you are bound to get some dirt, and I am not talking about stray divet shrapnel. So you know what I did? I told Ryan to schedule a tee time.
It has been more than five years since I picked up clubs, but I was willing to sacrifice my pride if it meant having some serious grown-up talk.
(I know, right? I make this sport look good)
I was a much better golfer than I ever remembered. It was a par-3 course so it didn't take four hours and it wasn't so discouraging (I never hit 10 strokes!). I even beat Ryan on one of the holes (celebration pictured below).
We ended up joking and laughing the entire time. We actually didn't discuss anything serious at all.
I guess I have to schedule another tee time.
Disclaimer: This is a light-hearted post that has been exaggerated slightly for effect. Don't think my marriage is on the rocks or anything from reading this... unless, of course you hear that from Ryan. ;-)
Last week it was cold here in Arlington - like late October cold. My laundry was so backed up, the stench filled my house, I swear. You couldn't tiptoe on my wood floors without feeling the crunch of crumbs or sand underfoot. We ate out five of seven days. I had a nightmare that my unanswered e-mails somehow escaped from my inbox and were climbing all over me (OK, I made that up, but I swear my inbox was bulging). I woke up during a few quiet, black nights solely because the sand in my sheets was scratching my feet.
It's still cool and today's rain makes it even worse.. but my laundry is all washed, dried and folded. My floors have recently been vacuumed. There is food for tonight's dinner in the fridge. I responded to a few e-mails today; I even authored a few this morning. My sheets are crisp and clean!
It always takes me a little over a week to get over the shock of my personal monotony following a particularly awesome vacation. The first few days back, I don't do much. My mind ruminates over the fact that there is little adventure in mommyhood and certainly no more hot sun, waves to push me around and excuses to drink endless Sonic drinks (which, by the way, are disgusting but give me some sort of nostalgic satisfaction).
After seven days at the beach, I was ready to come home; It only took a few hours at home for me to want to go back. So looking at photos of the trip was awesome/painful. I am finally ready to face them and maybe post a few (OK, every single one of them). I can describe our trip all I want, but the photos tell a much better story. Like last year, we had some amazing photographers with us. We are so lucky. I have plenty of my amateur photos to sift through as well. Some people warn about "photo-heavy" posts. This one won't be, but I am not promising anything about any posts following this one.
Anyway, while I was feeling bad for myself last week, I remembered something my friend, Rachel, told me at the beach. I was telling her how I hoped I could find things to look forward to after the vacation and she said she doesn't need things to look forward to; she just tries to enjoy every single moment (said in a much less pretentious way). That's a good outlook, and now that I am back to laundry and preschool and wiping pee off the toilet seat, I am hoping to adopt it.
I love stories like this. This rescue occured just outside the business building at Utah State University, my alma mater. The people who rushed to the scene to lift the burning vehicle were from places like Ghana, Uzbekistan and of course, Cache Valley, and were construction workers, students and random passersby.
Today Ethan started preschool all over again. One more year and then he hits kindergarten - full-day kindergarten. I'm telling him to live it up while he can.
Ethan also finally figured out how to pump on the swings yesterday and perfected it today. I am so proud of him (and glad I can get back to sitting on my butt at the park). Now if I could just get Ruby to follow suit...
Oh, and our beach house survived the storm and we had an amazing week in Nags Head, N.C. last week. More photos to come...