Survival of...

...the first two weeks of kindergarten.
...the first camping trip in the "new" pop-up.
...the first on-line relationship.

Bet you thought I was gonna say "survival of the fittest," right?  Nope!  There's nothing all that 'fit' about me!  Emotionally:  I struggle with depression and inadequacy.  Physically:  There is a big difference between being "in shape" and being "in condition."  Sure, I have a shape but I am waaaaay outta condition.  Mentally:  I have an almost 5 year old son and 3 1/2 year old daughter; need I say more?!  Spiritually:  Not where my focus has been lately.


The last two weeks comprised the first two weeks of kindergarten for Ben.  Wow, what an adjustment.  I figured there would be a testy transition; I was right!  Anticipating this tough time, I really did try so hard to be understanding and flexible.  Just coming off of summer vacation, where schedules get lax and limits are stretched, Ben has been challenged with long days of new activities, lessons, and learning.  He has stubbornly dug his heels in in resistance to naps - which he still very much needs!  Grumpy is as grumpy does.


We had one good morning and afternoon in the same day.  He's been mad at me for not letting him walk to school by himself (he's only 4 1/2!!), mad at me for not letting him ride the bus home (the walk home takes less than 4 minutes), and mad at me because I wouldn't allow a certain little girl to come home with him (never mind he didn't get my permission first, or that I hadn't talked to her mom). 


Oh, and by the way, tonight he tells me he's already tired of school.  Really?  Great.


This past weekend saw the maiden voyage of our "new" old pop-up.  In preparation, I'd practiced both setting up and collapsing in the comfort of my driveway, and could do either one in less than 30 minutes.  Sweet.  I'd practiced hooking up the trailer to the car, as well as driving, backing up, and parking it back in our fairly-narrow driveway.  No big deal.  I was able to get everything packed into the car - food, clothes, accessories, Charley, and me.  Done. 

Destination: Hume Lake Campground.  We set off on our journey at an acceptable-to-me time beyond my original target time.  Traveling was smooth and without any glitches.  We arrived at the campground in good time and quickly found our site.  First problem:  There was absolutely no way I was going to be able to back in from the 'one way' direction I'd come in.  After sitting there for a few minutes wondering if I should give it a go anyway, the neighboring camper thankfully suggested I exit the loop and come back in the wrong way, which I successfully did. 

I was able to get it backed in fine, but quickly realized there was absolutely NOTHING level about the site!  And I had not brought any wood blocks or anything else for this sort of (common) situation.  The same helpful camper and her sort-of son-in-law (don't ask - it's not important) were so kind and gracious to supply me with spare wood blocks, a leveling jack, a level, wheel chocks (the level and chocks I actually had but were completely inaccessible inside my car - oops), and several large rocks to keep my trailer in place.  Once this was all done, I knew I was on my way to having the trailer up and ready.  Or so I thought. 

I grabbed the crank from the car and set off to the back of the trailer to begin raising the "road cover" (top of the trailer).  This was the part I felt confident about.  After all, I'd practiced setting it up and had worked out any trouble spots.  Only one problem.  One very big problem.  The gizmo at the end of the crank that actually fits over the shaft to do the cranking WAS GONE.  Gone, and nowhere to be found.  Plan B. 


Necessity truly is the mother of invention.  As I pondered my predicament, I seriously considered throwing in the towel, hooking back up and driving right back home.  I just couldn't give up without trying something, though.  I got my hammer and, using the claw end, hooked it onto the small pin in the crankshaft.  I could get it about 1/3 of the way around before I would have to remove the hammer and reposition it.... as the shaft spun back to where it started.  Dang!  Definitely one of those "two steps forward, three steps back"!   After several attempts, I was able to raise the roof - about 1 1/2 inches.  Woo hoo - only 3 1/2 feet to go. 

Persistance and stubborn determination set in and I kept at it.  I ended up bending the pin, which then repeatedly fell out of the hole and got lost in the dirt.  I broke the head off my hammer.  I found a nail in the dirt and tried using that in place of the bent pin.  The nail bent and twisted so much I couldn't get it out of the hole.  I finally figured out if I removed the spare tire, I had more room to crank the now-broken hammer head clutching the completely disfigured nail.  Oh, and through all this, with every tiny crank of progress, my forearms would come down on the trailer bumper, leaving some really lovely bruises ranging from wrist to near-elbow.  So pretty.

I was dirty.   I was hungry.  I was tired.  I was sweaty.  And I kept repeating quite matter-of-factly, "I'm really not having any fun at all."  But you know what?  I got that darned road cover raised to full height and before I knew it, Charley and I had a place to stay for the next three nights.  Everyone needs a camping story and now I have mine!

And lastly, the survival of the end of the on-line relationship.  Why does reason and logic disappear when someone new and inviting comes on the scene?  I mean, really, am I so frail of mind and conviction that I can be so easily swayed to compromise my beliefs and boundaries?  Apparently, yes. 

It hit hard and heavy.  I fell for this guy - he was educated, we had great and intelligent conversations, he was attractive, exciting, attentive, encouraging, understanding.  Yes, okay, he was also a little critical... but it was constructive.  He was very analytical (about me and my parenting)... but it was helpful.  He was insightful... although he barely knew me (or my children).  He was "spiritual"... but he didn't believe in God.  I know, I know.  Huge red flag.  I hang my head as I say, "but I really thought two intelligent, thoughtful people could find a way to make it work."  What that really means is I was hoping and praying he would become a believer.  All that would do would be to remove my concerns, not his, because my concern about being unequally yoked was apparently of no concern to him.

Within a very short time, we were practically co-dependent upon each other.  Neither of us could bear to be apart and we were in frequent contact, whether text, phone, or email. 
Or in person, if at all possible.  Then, less than two months into it (again, I know, I know - it was very quick), I started sensing a distance that only continued to grow.  Upon my prodding, he shared some "concerns" he had about "us" and directly, about me.  Not to drag this out, he finally told me "somewhere along the line the hope started fading for me, until it became too little to support or to stay with any longer."   Gee, had me fooled. 

It is truly interesting what time and distance can do for a person's perspective.  At first, I was pretty upset.  I really, really liked this guy.  Maybe I just thought I really, really liked him.  But the entire time I was with him, I gave up spending any time with the One who really, really does like me - my Lord and Savior. 

I guess what this experience did was show me I can have feelings for someone again.  It also showed me the complications of a relationship are not always worth the effort, especially when it is a relationship that is selfish or self-serving - on the part of either party.  I selfishly languished in the attention he gave, the support and advice he offered regarding parenting concerns, and the affection he so generously gave.  In hindsight, as always, the signs were there; signs of incompatibility as well as his progressive withdrawal.  And once again, I became the 'dumpee' rather than the 'dumper.'  But, once again, I survived.