Everything at Once

Ever have one of those weeks where EVERYTHING seems to happen at once?  Not necessarily in a bad way, but you've spent two weeks in a lull only to have every appointment, meeting, and event hit in one seven day period?

Welcome to my week.

I had just been thinking, "Gosh, I really don't have all that much going on.  I really need to get out more."  Then BAM!  Parent-teacher conferences, choir concerts, piano recitals, meetings, and one interview for VoiceAmerica later...

...I kind of feel like I'm starring in my own Calgon commercial.

Granted, none of these things are what I think fit in the "getting out more" category, but they've definitely kept me busy.

I have one more parent-teacher conference to go tomorrow and I'm certainly hoping it goes better than the one yesterday.  Oh, the teacher had nothing but nice things to say about my child who is apparently an angel at school and saves all of her evil for home.  But for some reason, I just felt teary mid-way through.

What is it about school that gets me?  It's such a gut-check every time!  And it used to be just the random graduation from preschool, kindergarten, fourth grade and the leap up from the short water fountain to the tall one.  Now I've got to get all weepy at the conferences, too?

Great.

I think it was when my daughter's second grade teacher started describing her in class.

"She's so smart," she assured me.  "But she gets bored.  She finishes first and then she starts talking to the other kids."

Well, that didn't surprise me.  I mean, this is a child who does not stop making noise - not talking, just noise - all day long.  I've been shocked that it hasn't been more of a problem at school.

The reason I got weepy is because what the teacher said pretty much described my husband during his formative years.

"She's just like her dad," I said, trying to swallow.  "That's how his mother said he was."

That's all it takes sometimes, isn't it?  Just that little trigger over something that's really not that big of a deal.  That teacher could have asked me to describe in detail the scene at the hospital when my husband died and I could have done it without shedding a tear.  But a little thing like my child's inability to leave her classmates alone just like her dad and I fall to pieces.

It's the widow way.

~

Today I had my interview with Aimee Dufresne on VoiceAmerica.  I'd really been looking forward to it because I've spoken with Aimee (a fellow widow) a few times and we instantly connected.  I felt sure that it was going to be a good show - less of an interview and more like a discussion between two friends.

But this morning I woke up a little nervous.  I can handle myself in interviews and in front of a crowd, but for some reason this morning...one thought hit me.

What if I say something really stupid?

And then I couldn't stop thinking about it.

I went on a walk to clear my head.  I treated myself to a Starbucks.  I assured myself that if I just thought things out as I went along, I would be fine.  Surely I could get through this without making my agent and my publicist want to tear up my contracts and run screaming away from a person who is into self-sabotage.

And then it happened.

I was pulling up my pants in the bathroom (I know, TMI) and I suddenly felt like I had pulled all of the muscles in my upper back.  Now, I'm choosing to believe that that happened because I've been under a lot of stress this week and not because I'm so out of shape that I don't even have the strength to lift yoga pants.

Don't disabuse me of this notion.

And of course I had to share this little event.

I seriously just pulled a muscle in my back as I was pulling up my pants, I texted a friend.

Just don't say that in your interview, she responded.

I won't, I assured her.

Gulp.  Will I?

~

SHORT EPILOGUE:  I didn't.