Comfort

One and a half days with my husband and I am in a comfort zone. Just in time for him to go work a basketball camp in Connecticut, but I know he will be back Sunday night. Much better than the weeks upon weeks!

My comfort began when waking up next to Jeff. The two mornings it happened, the comfort was not warranted. My alarm went off to wake me up, and so comfortable, I turned it off a dozed back off loving the idea of being next to Jeff. Both days I did this. I guess I was subconsciously trying to steal more time.

Last night we went out to dinner. Probably my first dinner out since I was last with Jeff. Anyways, we got talking about my move to Cleveland. Loosely planning it out, discussing our options, and talking about the people that we know we will be spending time with. My job will be to find us a place to live in July. Jeff will be on the road a bit in July so he will not be able to look. Not that it would be beneficial for him to look anyways.

You see, Jeff gets very bored and frustrated with the whole process. What he ultimately ends up doing is just taking whatever place he is looking at when his patience comes to an end. It could be a ten cent hole in the wall with mice running across his feet. If he has had enough, that is the place he will take. So, it is a good idea to keep him out of this whole process.

Needless to say, with our looking forward last night piled on top of my already peaked anxiousness, I am getting very excited to become a Clevelander. So much so that my pathetic a$$ stayed in on a Friday night and searched some options of places to live. And, while it is pathetic and I admit it, it only adds to my excitement. No matter where the place is, I know I will be able to fall back into my real comfort zone when Jeff, Shea, and I are together in whatever that place may be. Even if it is rat infested, although I prefer not!

Koola

Being home for a whole day and a half, Jeff had a lot of people to see. So, as anyone would do, he took a nap and watched movies all day. Oh well, as long as he remembered to visit me, I am happy. Selfish, I know, but I'd be lying if I said it wasn't true. 

In crossing one of those visitations off, we went to visit Jeff's friend Mike and his fiance, Beth. Even more to our liking, they had rescued a puppy today. A beautiful little one-year old lab mix. Mike told us her name was Sheala after our big Shea. He lied. They named her Koola. While Mike and Beth had convinced themselves that Koola was a pretty good sized dog, they realized she is a dwarf when face to face with Shea. 

Koola has a lot of energy. When meeting and greeting Shea, she acted like a lady. Actually she acted more like a tramp than a lady. This was the greeting:

Shea doesn't really seem to mind. However, he did mind when Koola jumped off the deck onto his face. He minded so much, my gentle giant growled at her. Just letting his new friend to never do that again apparently. 

I'm glad we all have a new puppy friend to hang out with. Jeff and Shea really hit it off with Koola. I know Shea will really enjoy her company. At least for the next three weeks. Then, who knows when they will see each other again?

A Vision in Blue

Today we had the friendship games at school. Nothing better than a good day of games and forming friendships!

Ask me if that last statement was true at 2:30 and I would have absolutely agreed. The kids had a wonderful time, it was a beautiful day, and I was able to capture a $h*tload of flags while I was playing capture the flag!

Ask me that question at 2:45 and I would beg to differ. As we were sitting in the classroom, finishing our final activity of the day, sneaking in a small piece of learning, I peered up at the door. I peered up at the door to see a vision in blue. Jeff, in a blue shirt, standing in my doorway. Beauty at it's finest!

My first instinct was to jump up, run across the room, and fall into his arms. As I began to do just that, I realized that there were 50 little eyes watching me.  I had already jumped up and caught their attention. I was a few steps into my run and decided I needed to slow it down to a fast walking pace. Rather than falling into his arms, I went into the hallway and got the hug I've been longing for.

The reunion of Jeff and Shea was very similar except Shea did not need to recoil the jumping up, running, and falling into his arms. He did just that with all the exuberance you would expect from Shea. So, for now, even if it isn't for very long, the family is back together. The way it should be! Thank you, Lord, for that vision in blue!

Wednesday or Thursday?

I am expecting to see Jeff's smiling face either tomorrow or Thursday. Hoping for tomorrow, but I will certainly take Thursday. I will take anything. With that, the anticipation is killing me! Okay, not killing me, but it's making me weak, very much like the Heinz Ketchup commercial a few years back. 

Anticipation Commercial

I can't wait to see that perfect smile of his. To get a big hug, and maybe a little kiss. I can't wait to hear Shea's tail bounce off of anything and everything that is near as all of his happiness shines through in the excessive wagging.

Tomorrow or Thursday. I've made it this long, I keep telling myself I can make it the rest of the way. Lucky for me tomorrow is our 5th grade friendship games. This means my mind will be occupied playing kiddie gym games all day long. There is no doubt the day will go fast, cutting down on my anticipation time. Thursday, we don't really have anything going on to occupy my mind.

So, Jeff, how about you show tomorrow and take away the anticipation on Thursday? I would really love the extra day with you! 

Clocked

On this beautiful Memorial Day, I spent a lot of time outside with my buddy, Shea. One of my new favorite things to do with Shea is hit him his tennis ball with a baseball bat. I basically have batting practice, while Shea plays the field. 

Batting, made me think of the days I used to go watch Jeff play softball. He played in a slow pitch league representing a bar called Props. A bar that was so lovingly compared to Cheers. I think more for the fact that everyone knew your name, not for the deer heads on the wall. Anyways, Jeff had softball games every week. When I was in the area, I used to love to go and watch. 

I was so upset I was running late one day, heading over to his game. I was sure to miss at least one inning. And when it comes to slow pitch softball, you can understand why I was so upset to miss an inning. Pure action and excitement! As I hustled to the field, I noticed I did not see Jeff out on the field. What the heck? Maybe he was late too. As I got closer I noticed someone sitting in the dugout, injured looking. I said to myself, "that's probably Jeff," although I wasn't actually serious. The closer I got, the more I began to believe my declaration. This injured person was beginning to look an awful lot like Jeff. 

Turns out, Jeff had hit a grounder to second base. The second baseman, not only was nice and close, but had an arm like a rocket. As Jeff ran to first, the second basemen's rocket of an arm let go of an errant throw. An errant throw that hit my helmetless boyfriend right in the cheekbone/temple area. From the recounts of the event, he dropped like a fly. Just hit the ground like he was dead. After some smelling salts awoke him from his coma, he was in the dugout keeping score. His face had no ice on it, just a gigantic lump with the stitches of the ball etched in it. 

When I got up to him, he told me he could really use some ice. While Jeff had already been sitting there with another head growing off of the side of his face for about ten minutes, I felt that without the ice I was asked to get, he might die. I was sure he wouldn't survive another minute without it. I was not running in any races at that point, but I probably ran faster to the gas station on the corner than I ever have in my life.The ice didn't really help with the pain or the swelling. 

The night left me thankful for a few things. One, that Jeff was actually alive. Two, that all of Jeff's teammates bought us drinks at the Prop's afterward. It helped ease his pain just a little. And, three, that I was a few minutes late to the game. Lord only knows what I would have done if I saw the whole scene play out! 

Duathlon

Today I did a duathlon. A what, you ask. The duathlon I did incorporated biking and running. I had to run 3.1 miles, then bike 20 miles, then run another 3.1.

Let's just say, I was very much ready for the running. It did not phase me. Why would it? I run at least six miles almost every day. The biking, ready, not so much. Be it because this was only my fourth time on my bike this year, or that I have never actually ridden 20 miles on my bike before, or that I have weak, wussiful legs. Whatever it was, I was not ready. The 20 miles kicked my a$$!

Since wearing headphones warrented an automatic disqualification, I had a lot of time to think. The course was a five-mile loop we were required to go through four times. Throughout the first loop, I asked myself why the heck I was doing this. Why was I torturing myself? I pushed those thoughts aside as I finished my first lap. I could feel myself moving faster and starting digging the whole bike thing. Then, people started whizzing by me, deflating my positive thoughts. It was about this time that I began plotting a way to cheat and make this bike ride shorter.

The first thing that crossed my mind was maybe there was a street that cut the loop in half, that cut across the course. However, this was a pretty rural route, and I was not about to test it out. The next thought was to simply go three loops instead of the required four. Nobody would ever know. It was the perfect plan and I had convinced myself that was what I would do. I would skip out on the last loop, earn a decent time, and save myself the agony of the final five-mile loop. All was good and well, except, it wasn't true that nobody would know. I would know. And, I knew that when I called Jeff after the race was over, he would ask me how the biking was, and I would confess immediately. I was not about to let my husband think I was a cheater. So, I finished the entire four loops. And boy did it cost me time!

On the runs, I passed tons of people. On the bike, I was passed by everyone and anyone. I saw an old man with a belly shirt pass me twice, a fat lady on a pink bike passed me, and a man walking his 13-year old golden retriever passed me. The only two people I passed were off to the side of the road because their chains had fallen off. I'm sure once they hopped back on, they too, passed me.

Anyways, I finished the race. I was proud of myself for doing it, completing it, and not cheating even though I think I could have gotten away with it. I wanted to try the duathlon, and I did. At least it kept me busy for (over) 2 hours on this long weekend that I should be spending with Jeff, but am not. Thank you duathlon.

Pool Please

All I've asked for since the age of three was a pool. I was a good kid. I loved swimming. It only made sense for me to want a pool. And boy, did I ever! 

Nick did too. Maybe not as badly as I did, but he still wanted one. So, I began asking incessantly from the age of three on. When my friends started getting pools put in their backyards and mine was still full of nothing but green grass, I got angry. I demonstrated this angst by wearing my bathing suit everyday. When that didn't work, I got my green squirt gun, and threatened. 

It didn't get the job done. Twelve, fifteen, seventeen, still no pool. I'm not sure why. Like I said, I was good. I never really caused any trouble for my parents. The worst thing I did growing up was drink a little bit too much of orange juice and vodka and threw up on the driveway. But, I even hosed the driveway clean afterwards. I have given twenty seven good years, and have never earned that pool.

Shea, on the other hand, has done many things wrong. He's peed on the carpet, he's ripped the screen door, he digs up the mulch, he steals breakfast bagels off the table (even though they shouldn't be left out in the open for him to grab!), he's eaten all the bars of soap in the house, and he jumps on the couch when he is wet. Yet, my mother, dog-hater extraordinaire, came home the other day with this cute little puppy pool. Had dog bones on it and everything. 

Shea never even asked for this. My mother simply felt he would really like it. So, after 27 years of being a good daughter, nothing. After 2.5 years of being a mischievous, yet lovable, grandpuppy, Shea gets a pool! 

At least he enjoys it. When my baby boy is happy, I am happy. I can't wait until he sees Jeff again, then we all be beyond happy!