Explaining The Inexplicable

We all grow up with a ghost story, right? Or at least some sort of local urban legend?

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We stood gathered around the graffiti-ridden wall, chattering in hushed tones.

"Look!" Chris said as he nudged the plywood forward.

If I could go back in time, I would stop him right there. I would shake him violently and warn him that he should just stop. Immediately. His thrill-seeking was a few years away from changing his life forever, but maybe that was a moment that could been an opportunity to warn him. He was three years from making the decision to steal a lighter out of his mom's purse. He was three years from meeting Danielle's brother just a few feet from where we were standing that day. He was three years from deciding to play with fire, a decision which led to both boys being burned within inches of their lives. They grew to be adults, but barely.

Hindsight is 20/20, though. I was only in first grade, so I really didn't understand what could happen when kids go looking for trouble.

We were definitely looking for trouble that day. We stood huddled at the doorway to the laundromat , right at the center of the trailer park. The laundromat had long ago been boarded up and abandoned. We had never dared to so much as stand close to it because we had heard the stories. We repeated the stories as we played on the swings and slides and merry-go-round adjacent to the laundromat, but we never dared venture into its shadows.

Except that Chris HAD gone into its shadows. Apparently he had been working at that plywood for a while. He had managed to push it loose enough that it no longer served its purpose. The window on the door had been busted out years prior, but that plywood was there to keep the building closed off from the world and to prevent anyone from reaching in and unlocking the door.

Chris reached through the gap between the plywood and the door and unlocked it.

We all shrieked with fear.

But we didn't run away. Instead, we waited, our faces crumpled up in preparation for what we were sure was to come. We were certain something really bad was going to happen when that door swung open, but if we had our eyes closed, maybe it wouldn't be real.

Once the door had slowly squeaked open, I dared to sneak a peak. The only light in the room came from the ajar door and a few holes in the roof that were threatening to join the stale air inside the abandoned laundromat with the heavens. Even so, everything was unnaturally black. Dirty. Filthy, even. Streaks of . . . something . . . covered the walls and the few remaining washers and dryers.

I imagined the streaks were dried blood.

They had to be blood. After all, the laundromat had closed because a woman had gotten her long blond hair stuck in a spinning dryer and died. That would involve blood spraying everywhere, right? Maybe her hair was ripped from her scalp as she screamed, and blood shot all over the walls as the other patrons tried in vain to stop the dryer and save her? But then her neck broke and it was all over.

Or at least that was the story we had concocted to explain away the mystery of the abandoned laundromat.

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Alexis is about a year younger than I was when we stood in that doorway and whispered the (not true, as far as I can tell) story of the woman and the laundromat. It makes me wonder what ghost stories she and her friends will be telling entirely too soon.

Because Some People Asked, Although Not Entirely Nicely

Destiny is not a matter of chance; but a matter of choice. It is not something to be waited for, it is something to be achieved. ~~William Jennings Bryan

I don't remember exactly where I first found those words, but I know that it was while I was in the 6th grade. For a multitude of reasons, the words stuck with me. I made the choice to own the words, to make them a part of my soul, to live the mantra.

All these years later, I still do. What they mean to me and how I use them to motivate myself has changed many times over, but it has always boiled down to one thing--I try very hard to make the choices now that will lead to the destiny I want to grab.

In recent years, they have been the words that help me find balance.

I work full time in a corporate environment. I parent a 5-year old. I blog. I clean. I cook. I deal with a bunch of cats and dogs. I garden. I am a DIY ninja. It can't all happen at the same time, and it could be hugely overwhelming to try to figure out how to balance it all. However, I refuse to allow it to be overwhelming. After all, it really does boil down to simply figuring out the right choices now that will lead to the tomorrow that I want.

There are some things that aren't really a choice. I have to go to work each day. There's a domino effect of other things that have to be done because of that--lunches have to be made, Alexis has to be awake and dressed at a particular time, I have to be presentable at a particular time. But, once the work day ends, it's all about making choices.

Should I finish painting the dining room? I mean, that project has been in progress since March. I'm getting mighty sick of walking through there and seeing something that is nearly finished. Or maybe I should clean up the kitchen? It definitely could use some attention. Oh, and the garden needs to be watered. And don't forget about that half-painted dresser down in the basement. But it's so nice outside!

Time management. It's the elusive magical unicorn in everyone's life, but I think there's a simple way to address it. Before you can effectively manage time, you have to learn to figure out what does not have to be done. The painting? It's only bothering me. The kitchen? It has been worse. The garden? There's a chance it could rain tomorrow. Nothing is going to die between now and then. The dresser? It's part of a domino effect of projects, so getting it done would mean a LOT of things could get done. But, again, while it needs done, it really doesn't need to be done right this second. Outside? The absolutely perfect weather we had this evening is certainly not something that happens all that often. And Alexis? She's only this age right now. She's growing entirely too quickly . . . in a flash.

I decided heading outside with Alexis really was the best use of my time. For today.

Tomorrow I may make a different choice.

But I will never regret a choice. I will never stress out about all the things that aren't done, especially since a lot of them don't *have* to be done.

All I can do is choose to achieve.

"You Think You Know Me? You Know NOTHING!"

Things that are OK in my mind:

• Wearing white pants after Labor Day
• People who love each other getting married
• Considering Nutella a food group
• Letting laundry sit unwashed when the weather is perfect
• Cheering louder for your favorite team when they are playing well
• Eating Cream of Mushroom soup straight out of the can
• Being nervous on your first day of camp when surrounded by a whole bunch of people you've never met

Things that are not OK in my mind:

• Wearing white pants with bright yellow underwear that feature a giant smiley face across your butt
• Marrying someone because it's who you are expected to marry
• Considering ketchup a food group
• Letting laundry sit unwashed when the bulldog has rolled around in my closet and left her bulldog stench all over every single pair of my jeans
• Loudly declaring yourself a better fan than anybody else when your favorite team is playing well
• Making fun of me for eating Cream of Mushroom soup straight out of the can
• Freaking out, bawling, and hiding at a picnic for the daycare center where you have been nearly your entire life, especially when YOU KNOW ALL OF THOSE PEOPLE

Ahem.

One of those not OK things pretty much describes our weekend. Which, WTH? Seriously? How does a kid go from BEGGING to go to said picnic to begging to leave ten seconds after we arrive?

Every time I think I'm starting to understand how Alexis' brain works, she does something completely unpredictable and leaves me feeling like an idiot.

Oh, well. At least she completely unexpectedly loved swimming lessons.