Perspective Check

Growing up, there were two times a year we could count on my dad to be in a bad mood: The day we opened the pool, and the day we closed the pool. Normally, he was relatively easy going, and he and I got along famously. But, on those two days? Even I kept my distance. More than anyone in the family, he loved the pool, but having one is a crap-ton of work. So, when the heavy lifting of the opening/closing process was going on, he needed to be alone with his bad mood (especially on pool closing day ... ohmygosh ...). On those days, we called him "Mad Dad." And, yes, he knew we did so. We lived because we didn't do so on those two days ... in hearing distance.

His mood tempered quickly once the work was finished. And, it was always worth it for every day in between where he'd swim laps and lounge. He was a great lounger, by the way -- he could even float on his back with his hands clasped behind his head like he was on a float. But, he wasn't. He was just there floating on his own. I'm totally not kidding.

I thought about him a lot today as I was taking down our Christmas tree decorations. You've seen a peek or two of our family tree (like here when Daphne kept stealing one of the bird ornaments ...), so you have an idea that our family tree is its own special brand of work to get up and take down. I can't really remember a time when I was stoked to do either part, although today was the worst I remember. So, during the hours while I stewed and cranked and grumbled and the kids channeled their inner yesteryear mom steering clear of her dad (ah, history repeating itself ...), I thought about my dad. But, I didn't think about how grouchy he was; I thought of him floating on his back and how worth those two workload days always were for the days in between. It didn't distract me completely, but it did give me a nicer perspective in the middle of short-term chaos.

Speaking of that chaos, my other prevailing thought during the upheaval of the ornaments coming off and getting packed was, "I just want to go run. I just want to go run." There was some seriously ridiculousness to that thought with it being about 12 degrees and I don't even know how low the wind chill was (negatives at that point, I'm sure.). The wind was hauling the snow around, and it just looked cold out. Oh, and I was in the middle of something. But, my brain was scrambling for some order out of chaos, and a run has become a great go-to. Unless I'm going to get frostbite, then running is just a form of being a moron.

I continue to be surprised that running has become a form of peace for me, but sitting amidst what can only be described as a massive 'our Christmas Tree has thrown up all over our family room' scene, it's no wonder I wanted to skidoo for a bit to a more simple activity. Me, my feet, and some fresh air. That all it takes to participate. And, while I would not want to live with that degree of simplicity, I do like those slices of my life.

Today was a day with weights given the overnight snow that was still coming down this morning. Truly, the wind was the real deal breaker, but it was a bad combination all the way around. Tomorrow's activity is up in the air, but the location is set: Inside. We, like so many, are in for double-digit negative wind chills. I choose to look at this as fabulous to be a part of potential record-setting. It's all about perspective ... right?

I'll see you after the morning whatever-I-do ...!