Skip to main content

Mission Impossible... (part 1)

Early this morning I woke to my son stirring. Exhausted, I tried to go back to sleep. Half asleep/half awake, the internal dialog began in my head. I started mapping out this morning's post...
I met my High School Sweetheart for lunch during my recent trip home. We spent that morning texting each other to plan it like two spies arranging a rondevu because his current girlfriend was not on the list of people who knew about our meeting. Not because our lunch wasn't completely innocent, but because she just wouldn't understand. Some people think ex's can't be friends and no matter what you say, they will never think anything different. So, our texts included phrases like 'Your mission, if you choose to accept it' and 'This message will self destruct in...' I soon came to realize a restaurant was not in his comfort zone for our meeting and we ended up at a Dunken Doughnuts (so much for lunch) in a town that was apparently off of his girlfriend's radar.
I sat in the parking lot waiting for him to arrive. When he pulled up, he slowed down to motion he was parking in the back. Seeing him for the first time in 7 or 8 years, I was surprised at how much he looked the same as he did the last time I saw him. I waited by the front door and as he turned the corner, I was even more surprised by his sheer size. At 6'6, he towered over me (as I am only 5'2) and he was even larger than I remembered. When he bent down to hug me, I felt as if he could touch his toes with me in front of him without needing to move out of the way. This reminded me of when we were kids and while walking home from school, he came across a fire hydrant he was able to just step over it rather than go around it (and back then he was only 6'4)...
Still half asleep I heard, 'Mommy, I'm hungry' and realized it was time to start my day and the entry I was sleepily mapping out would have to wait...

Comments

Roy said…
Grrr... I commented on this but I had to sign up for a Google account then it took away my post. Now I am back here, so I will post this. I will get back to it when I have a little more time.
Erren said…
Sorry Roy, I fixed it now. thanks for popping and and for letting me know.

Popular posts from this blog

Fight Club for Five Year Olds - Part 2

The other mother and I went into the school to meet with the teacher and the assistant head.  We both let them know how upset we were that we were not informed that our children were sent to the office and how much we were against the children being allowed to play fighting games on the playground.  I told them I wouldn't allow it at home and I'm really unhappy that it's being allowed at school.  They admitted it was a problem and explained that they are planning to introduce a a scheme to teach the children to play in a safe way.  They will be calling it 'Super Hero Training'.  They plan to give out capes & masks out to children who behave well as rewards at playtime.  They will have assemblies where they will teach the children to play fighting games without making contact.  I find this to be absurd.  The problem has gone on to long and I doubt they will be able to teach little children to change their games when they have sixty other children to look after o…

Feeling the rain

After I worked out today, I went into the kitchen for a bottle of water and saw the pouring rain out my patio door.  There are few times I can think of wanting to feel the rain more. Without a thought, I went out and stood in the rain.  English rain is cold, but today it felt incredible.  I live in a very public place, but in that kind of weather there was wasn't a soul in sight.  I thought about twirling, but the grown up in me squashed the notion. What I did do though was close my eyes and raise my chin toward the sky to let the rain fall on my face.  In my mind I slowed it all down and took it in.  I swear in those few moments I felt every drop. I've always loved the rain.  I  love the sound of it and like to open the windows and listen to it while drifting off to sleep on stormy nights.  Even as a child I would love to go out and play in. When I got older, I found it sensual and and dreamed of romantic moments that would play out under dark clouds, surrounded by grey tone…

Scary stuff

A few weeks ago, I found a lump in my breast.  I was in the shower.  I thought I felt something, but my first reaction was to not let my mind go there so I quickly moved on.  A few minutes later, I checked again and confirmed it was indeed a lump.  I finished my shower (and my day) trying not to think too much about it.  That night I asked my husband to see what he thought.  We went to the doctor the very next morning.
In short, the doctor referred me to a specialist and told me I'd get an appointment in the mail.  About a week later, I saw the specialist who referred me for more tests.  I had a mammogram on Monday and today I have an ultrasound.  Scary stuff right?
Because we never know when the appointments are going to be, my husband can't plan for it and arrange to be with me.  I've had to see the specialist and have the tests on my own.  This is one of the worst things about living in a foreign country - when my husband can't be there, I am left with no-one else …