A word that I did not know existed until introduced to me by my co-worker today. It was described as that moment when you go into the bathroom at work and it is empty and you are happy because you have to poop. Then someone comes in and gets in another stall and just waits you out. Waits you out because they also have to poop. I have been in these battles before. There is the potential to flush and drown out any escaping sound but with the advent of environmentally friendly toilets, the flushing time is short. Too short to get your business done. Said co-worker told me that they usually give. In other words, they leave without doing any business. This, of course, makes for uncomfortable times. I did google this term and it has a completely different meaning according to the urban dictionary and Harold & Kumar but I like my co-workers’ definition better. Brings my mother’s saying of “shit or get off the pot” to an actual real life situation.
But I digress. It is a new year. A new year with high aspirations. There was my registration to try to run 1,000 miles in the year. I’m still in for that one. There was the registration to write 750 words a day. That one only lasted two days after I realized that I was going to have to pay the site in order to keep participating. I’m against paying. There was the workout every day by doing cardio and some sort of weight lifting thingy like P90X or boot camp or something. That is closer to failing. I would have to do something tonight. Tick-tick-tick. That may not happen. I am also supposed to do a triathlon (I can’t swim that well and don’t own a bike) and learn how to play the accordion. I am feeling confident about these two for some reason. I don’t actually own an accordion either. Makes it all so much more exciting. I have managed to stick to the 21 days of no drinking goal which was not easy during school play weekend.
Our January really got off to a hectic start with my son participating in said school play, Annie Jr. I had been lobbying him hard for the past three years to just give drama a try but he wouldn’t have it. There was usually an excuse that had to do with the ratio of boys to girls (not enough boys) or the play itself (Little Mermaid, no good boy roles. I said he could have been an evil eel). I guess I just wore him down this time and he agreed to sign up. He had to audition which was traumatic. It involved singing and a monologue. He said that he bombed it but then ended up with two roles, one as Drake the butler and as Bert Healy the radio announcer. And he truly rose to the occasion. Drake had an English accent and Burt had that announcer swagger in his tone that was just right. There was singing and dancing and numbers with the entire cast. And he ate it up. At the school performance, his classmates were chanting “Drake” when the show ended. I think that he is hooked. And we kind of are too. It was fun to be part of something. I learned what “spikes” are on the stage for the sets. I learned that it is hard to see anything on stage when the lights go down. And I learned that it is very stressful to be one of the people responsible for moving sets around in between the acts. I was really sweating it out. But it was ultimately rewarding for our entire family.
And this whole school play thing, it has really gotten to me. I had this kind of feeling once before at the end of the last school year, watching my son dance with his classmates. This sense that he was getting old enough so that he had things going on in his life, that I was not privy to. That he was in the process of starting to live his own life, even if in just some small ways. I know that this will just grow and that it is the expectation and the desire but for me, seeing it so blatantly, so in my face, it takes my breath away. It squeezes my heart like nothing ever has. It causes the most intense feelings. And I was in no way prepared for it. For this depth and breadth of emotion. Fool that I am. I’ve come to an age where you lift your head out the daily morass of living life to realize that a lot of it has gone by. Maybe even the majority of it. A very sobering thought. So to see this person who was always part of me becoming separate, it just feels right. Like it was meant to be. Like I won the battle. And a really good one at that.