Tag Archives: perception

Second Year, Part One

It’s the end of the summer (I am OK with this) and it’s been a while. I am off the idea of fitness tracker comparisons (I love my Jawbone UP2, anyway, and maybe I’ll talk about it sometime) and I never made it with the recipe integration (I leave this to the experts) so I am just going to go with whatever moves me that day.

Two days ago, I left R Featherstone at school for her second year. (We agree that we prefer “second year” to “sophomore” – the latter of which, when you think about it, does sound sophomoric.) The days before were filled with shopping, not shopping, packing, and, especially, not packing, not to mention reading other people’s Facebook posts about sending their kids off to school for the first time and how (insert powerful emotion here) that felt. Not really me, this year, with the mad posting. We both kind of knew what to expect.

Or did we? We filled the car to the gills, making me take a moment to pat myself on the back yet again for purchasing a monster truck (technically, a midsize, I think, SUV, but to this girl, it’s a monster truck) that would hold almost everything. We had to leave the “micro fridge” at home for the time being as the “micro” portion of it turned out to be a misnomer. Anyway, we’ve packed before, check. And we’ve done the road trip together, check. But what we didn’t pack last year was perspective. Perspective, if not folded neatly, would have filled the entire monster truck. Between the two of us, we had classes, scheduling, finance issues, separation issues (both of us, dare I say), discovering where we needed some extra help, and home and work issues. Layer all this on top of a been there, done that attitude, and some unexpected bubbles emerge.

The three hour drive allowed us time both to talk sans most distractions and get too much coffee. I resisted the urge to lecture on everything (R may disagree) and was able to listen and enjoy hearing from this evolving – gasp – young woman. Not terribly stressful.

What R didn’t know, and maybe won’t until now, is how much I miss her when she’s not around. On occasion, we joke about her staying home, or me camping out in her dorm. It’s great fun. My life sparks when she’s nearby. We’ve got this good thing going, a language of our own, things that make us laugh ’til we’re doubled over. I have fun with her that I simply can’t have with anyone else. All that, I realize, is completely selfish of me. My world may light up when she’s here, but her world blossoms and brims with opportunity when she’s not. Perhaps that’s the most difficult part. Yes, we need each other, but not as much as she needs to grow and explore this crazy, rich world around us. I will always be here, stepping back to let her surge forward, but close enough to grab her hand on this crazy ride – if she’ll let me.

Movin’!

Thanks to an excellent walk with my friend J, today’s stats are:

Jawbone: 12,700 steps (5.8 miles)      Fitbit: 13,581 steps (6.05 miles)

I don’t really have an explanation for the difference. Same person, same wrist, blah blah blah.

While walking and talking today, I thought about writing and blogging and what I am trying to do here. If it’s not clear already, I don’t necessarily know what I am doing. (Case in point: lack of visual pizazz.) 

Two themes emerged during this excellent walk: moving and perception. Y’see, I’ve been doing a lot of moving lately. Not just walking (because I haven’t really been doing enough of that), but actual moving. Three (oh my, or is it four?) weeks ago, my kids and I moved in with my boyfriend and his two boys. So we’ve moved towns. I’ve moved my relationship status. I’m often moved to tears. More blah blah blah. And perception – two devices looking at exactly the same situation see things differently (either that, or I am just reading way too much into this experiment). This is a theme for me in many ways, most pointedly at work. 

Speaking of which…the other day, someone noticed my two fitness trackers, and pointed out that fact to the assembled crowd. A good laugh was gotten when someone noted that I would probably use the one that gave me the better results. Um, no. That’s not it at all. Again: perception. (And a reminder that I need to keep moving.) I considered launching into an explanation of the whole thing, but instead, I curled up into my imaginary shell and waited until someone changed the subject. 

Going along with that moving theme, this is a big week for the Featherstone family. My son is “moving up” from 8th grade (yeah, it’s actually called a moving up ceremony) and my daughter will graduate from high school. Bring on the tissues.