And I must first apologize for my absence, but hey, life calls, and before you know it, more than a month has passed since I sat down to write. I’m doing my best to remedy that with this post.
Firstly, my son arrived from Michigan early last month to visit. My sweet baby. Okay, he’s 13, but as any mother will tell you, he will ALWAYS be my baby. Still such a sweet, respectful, happy, easy-going kid. While my ex and I didn’t do such a great job at staying married, we did make a fantastic son, so we have that feather in our respective caps. Tyler has always been an easy child, and even though he has entered the teen years, he hasn’t changed much. Still affectionate, still hugs and kisses his mom, and I still love to receive each and every one.
My ‘baby’ and me.
This visit was a big one. Tyler was meeting James for the first time. While I knew it would go off without a hitch, James was incredibly nervous. I suppose it’s difficult for me to put myself in his shoes, since I am a mom, and I know how this all goes. In any event, they got along famously, and we all had a great time. Rounds of golf, trip to the Sonoma County Fair, a Segway tour of San Francisco, Alcatraz, lots of gaming on the Xbox, and meeting James’ nephew who joined us for a week made for a full, yet fun trip for Tyler. If there’s one thing my son has always been it’s introverted, and while he didn’t come right out and say it, he had a great time, and we already made a few plans for next year.
In other news, my job is beyond anything I could have expected. So many reasons to be thankful for taking a transfer here to San Rafael. I don’t know which aspect is better: getting off night shift, or having new and different challenges. In any event, it’s beyond my wildest expectations. Yeah, there are still days when I want to pull out my hair, stomp my feet, and drop to the ground in a tantrum, because I feel as if I’m being pulled in ten different directions, but ya know what? I’m a nurse, and that’s my job. And, it’s EIGHT HOURS, people. I can do anything for EIGHT HOURS. I am fortunate enough to live close enough to work to be home in less than five minutes, and there’s just not a whole lot to complain about. The job is great. Period.
Been a slight hiatus from my motorcycle. Not due to any fears, but just lack of time, busy with son’s visit, and dealing with the after-effects of a cardiac outpatient procedure I had in early August, (which will be fodder for a future blog post). I did ride the day before I went into the hospital for my procedure just because I could. That alone is still the best reason I know of to get on my bike and ride. James has made a few modifications, such as shaving the foam padding on my seat to gain me a bit more footprint on the ground, along with application of some reflective tape, some black paint on the heat shield, and she’s like a brand new sweet motorcycle, customized just for me. Only thing left are the hot pink powdercoated adjustable levers, and the mods will be complete. Managed to get on for a short 30-minute ride around the block yesterday, and I felt free, alive, and ready to ride further and further. It’s almost time to take off the training wheels.
Girl power.
As for everything else? All good. Disgustingly, sickeningly, syrupy love shared with a wonderful man. I’m sure people are sick of hearing about it, but I never tire of talking about it. Life is good. I really have no complaints. Gobs of things to be happy about and feeling settled in a GOOD way. Life has a funny way of working out, doesn’t it?
I’ll post again soon. Promise.
