Someone, please light a firecracker under my butt.

So, over a week ago, my grandma landed herself on a little road trip in an ambulance to OSF. She took a nasty spill and although OSF staff was aggressive in their approach and with best of intentions to get her well, it wasn't the TLC she needed. She subconsciously (or maybe not?) decided to shut down while there and refused to eat. There was actually no TLC being given out freely and so family decided to just get her home. I spent every morning up there with her last week, just holding her hand and hoping she'd make it out of there. She is the matriarch to the maternal side of my extended family and I can't imagine not having her present in our lives.

That being said, I did not exercise. I flubbed on my running and every day I woke up, I'd feel the guilt and the aches in my knees and feet from NOT going. We battled sickness at our house the week before my grandmother's fall and then this past weekend, it crept back in. Fall and spring are HUGE allergy seasons and I fall prey. I take prescription medications to control allergy induced asthma breathing issues, but it seems the slightest germ brought home or slightly cool night with the window cracked, wakes me up with the worst of sore throats, runny nose, watery eyes and a crap-shot day. I decided that even with the seasonal issues, I would at the least, WALK. Just doing this takes a mental shove to get me out the door.

I'm not lazy. I'm on the 'go' quite a bit. But these past two weeks I seem to be full of excuses. Life seems overwhelming in trying to fit it all in and be happy with myself at the end of the day. Husband has been out of town on business since Sunday, so kiddie care has been all me and if this does not suck the life out of momma, I have no idea what does. It does make my running routine in the morning seem like a breeze compared to the witching hours in the afternoon, when I can do nothing right according to our kids.

I haven't blogged much since I had my 'gung-ho' exercise posts. I am going to stick with it, but I do think it would be easier if someone just drug my ass, lassoed, through the Steamboat Classic by horse. I think I need someone to take photos of my body in tight clothing, print about 100 of these off and tape them everywhere. Bedroom closet door. Bathroom mirror. Dashboard in my van. Laundry room. And of course, the pantry and refrigerator doors.

Tomorrow will be the 2nd Anniversary of my father's passing and according to some people, the feelings of sadness fade. I have yet to experience the day just being glossed over by the craziness of normal routine. Maybe that happens in the 8th, 9th or 15th year? I find myself reliving those last moments and I just wish we could skip tomorrow altogether.

Some uplifting news.. I'm going to see Bob Dylan this Friday (something my father would have enjoyed) and I can barely contain my excitement over this.

And I was looking for an appropriate song to end this blog entry, but since youtube snatches up all the good 'Bob' videos and knocks out the audio (per his request), I'm going with a quote. I love Bob Dylan's writing style, dry and plain as it can be. His lyrics are like no other and the minimalist way he voices himself, not to mention his lips on a harmonica or his fingers picking a stringed instrument, makes him the musical deity that has my proverbial panties in a bunch!

"I'm just glad to be feeling better. I really thought I'd be seeing Elvis soon."
Bob Dylan