This morning I had a dentist appointment. I hate going because even though the staff is incredibly friendly and professional, and my dentist and I exchange stories as if we were friends from the old neighborhood, they always find something that needs to be fixed.

My dental history is a sad litany of cavities, root canals and crowns. Just once, I’d like to go to the dentist and receive a clean bill of health. Just once, I’d love them to say, “see you in six months.”

But, before I even step foot into the dentist’s office, I get a text from Andrew.

“If you are able to, can you bring me my warm-up jacket?”

Now, I know what you are thinking. Why did I say yes?  Why did I go out of my way to bring it to him, which is the complete opposite direction of the dentist’s office?

I know what you are thinking, and I hear you. I should say him no and just once not run over there to save the day.

But he had an important swim meet today. Literally called the “Last Chance” meet, it is his last chance to improve his breaststroke time so he can qualify for Districts. All season long, he goes to practice from 5:30 am (AM!) -7 am and then again after school from 3:30 pm-5:30 pm without complaint. Every day, he packs his snacks, his swim gear and his laptop and leaves the house and comes home in the dark. He’s allowed a free pass occasionally. And, if I didn’t bring it to him, he’d be standing around the pool wearing only his Speedo tech suit. I couldn’t do that to him.

Why am I telling you all of this? I’m not sure. Everyone has rough mornings. Everyone has that moment when they are ready to walk out the door only to be stopped by a text from their forgetful child. I don’t think I’m doing any significant damage by being kind and going out of my way to bring it to him.

And I had a fleeting thought that perhaps a good deed would equal good karma at the dentist.

Fast forward an hour later; I have an appointment to get a cavity filled on March 4th.

And how was your morning?

• 4 comments

Tomorrow morning, swim season starts which means Andrew has to be in the pool at 5:30 am. Yes, you read that right…5:30 AM. Tonight he needs to have his swimsuit, goggles, cap and towel as well as a change of clothes and everything he needs for school by the front door.

And – we have to remember to set our alarm clock.

Thankfully, we have a neighborhood carpool. What are the odds that 3 other teens on the swim team live in our neighborhood? One of them lives 3 doors down. God bless all the swim moms and dads! No matter how much we love our kids, no one wants to get up at 5 am every day and drive to the high school. Thus…the carpool.

We take the morning run because both of us work full time, and it’s hard to leave on time for a 5:30 pm pick up. Oh! Did I forget to mention, there is after school practice too? Yep! 5:30-7 am Monday through Friday and then again from 3-5:30 pm. These kids are nothing if not dedicated to their sport.

And they are such nice kids. I couldn’t ask for a better group of people for Andrew to spend his time with. Swimming is such an individual sport, but they are all part of a team. They cheer each other on from the pool deck. They celebrate their victories and mourn their losses like the teenagers they are.

And a shout-out to us swim parents too who drive them to practice and meets Sit and cheer each other’s kids on in their heats. Volunteer to be a timer or a runner during the meets. Work the snack bar. Host team breakfasts and pasta dinners for 50 or so kids on occasion who come for the food and the friendships.

And we make sure they have their swimsuits, goggles, cap and towel by the front door every morning at 5:30.

Here’s to an awesome season!

• Comments Off on 5 am wake up call

I have a confession to make. Mindless eating at night is a habit I am desperately trying to break. I’ve tried to “close down the kitchen” at 8 pm but I have teenagers so it is never really closed.

Snacking seems like such an innocuous activity. Who is really going to care if I have an ice cream sandwich after 8 pm? I mean for god’s sake; it is just a small dessert. It’s not like I’m vaping or drinking hard liquor or fooling around. Seriously, will the Weight Watchers police pound on my door and burst in after one harmless bite? In my mind, I envision some skinny girl violently yanking it out of my hand, force me calculate the points on my calculator and then slap me silly until I promise never to do it again.

Hmm…Maybe that is what it would take???

Or maybe a better idea is to visualize myself 3 years from now to see what my life would look like if I don’t stop snacking at night. I suppose I’d be sitting at my Saturday morning WW meeting wishing for the days when I needed to lose 25 lbs (like now) instead of 50 (3 years from now). I won’t want to join the swim club that year because who wants to see me in a bathing suit. Not me! I’d only want to appear in public for work and special occasions. Speaking of special occasions, I have a hard enough time posing for family pictures, let alone 3 years from now. And of course my blood pressure would skyrocket and who knows what else would start to fall apart.

Okay, okay. I’m walking away from the freezer. Is that a knock at my front door? Who’s there? Don’t come in. I won’t snack after 8 pm ever again. I promise.

• Comments Off on Hard Habit to Break