Tales of an Insomniac

Insomnia sucks! Is there anything worse than waking up at 3:50 am and realizing immediately you are up for good? Today, (Tonight? This morning?) a brief thought crossed my mind while in that state of being half asleep/half awake, that instantly caused me to wake up fully. It was, of course, a worry. Should I attend this event, or shouldn’t I? Will I disappoint this person if I don’t? What should I do? And that quickly my mind was up and running even though my body was far from ready to start my day.

I had two options: lay there in the dark and continue to worry, or get up and start moving. I’ve learned that there is nothing worse than fretting in the dark. I have it from good authority that everything always seems worse at night, when you can’t do anything about it.

So here I am, at 4:45 am, having put in a load of laundry, responded to a few emails, checked Facebook and played with the dogs, now watching the news and pouring out my woes to anyone who will listen.

I envy my children. I see them sleeping, sprawled out on their beds, covers half off, mouths slightly opened, deep in slumber, not a care in the world. I used to be that way. When did it change? Is it old age? Or perhaps the pressures of adulthood weighing down on me?

Whatever it is, I have found that I am spending more early morning hours awake than asleep these days. I’m trying to look on the bright side of this predicament. It’s quiet at this hour. As the saying goes, not a creature is stirring, not even the dogs (now that they’ve had their treats). I can read, write, or just daydream without hearing “Mom” every few seconds. (Of course I could also exercise, but why make an already difficult morning worse?)

I also find I do some of my best thinking and planning during this time. It’s amazing what you can get done before everyone in the house wakes up. The downside however, is that I am pretty much worthless by 9:00 pm, when my teens are just getting started.

When I look at my calendar today, I shudder. How will I make it through today on five hours of sleep? Well, I’ve done it before. I will do it again. And I will hope that this time tomorrow, (5:45 am), I will still be sleeping, and not working on my third load of laundry and second glass of diet coke!

Many thanks!

Thanksgiving is one of my favorite holidays. It requires very little stress in my life but rewards me with lots of great food. It also allows me to slow down and reflect upon what I am thankful for in my life.

When our kids were younger, we started a journal in which we would write down what we were each grateful for. Entries always included family, good health, a delicious turkey dinner, a warm house, good friends, etc., etc.

While I am still thankful for all these things, I have come to realize that I am also appreciative of the small, seemingly inconsequential moments that can make my day.

These include, in no particular order: a short line at the grocery store; someone, anyone else making me dinner; a cold fountain diet coke; my husband unloading the dishwasher; a sunny day; homemade chocolate chips; the smell of freshly cut grass; a warm blanket; a new season of Survivor; jeans that fit; a compliment; a good hair cut; my children's laughter; a quiet house; a friend's advice; a good book; an unbroken seashell; a smile; the sunrise over the ocean, and a sunset over the bay, and so much more!

And so, on this Thanksgiving morning, I wish all a very Happy Thanksgiving. I wish you peace in your life, joy in your heart, a good, hot meal on your table and family and friends to share life's ups and downs with. And for all of those things, and much more, I am thankful.

Are you still there?

Hello? Is anyone still out there? Have you all given up on me?

I would understand if you had. I have been terribly lapse in my writing. I’ve gone through a bit of a dry spell, due in large part to a brief stint with a part-time job.

I thought I had found the perfect “mom” job – part-time, working from home. Unfortunately, it turned into more of a full-time job, working from home, office, and car.

Some of that was my fault. I am nothing if not anal, and I found I couldn’t leave it alone, a hazard of working from home.

I also discovered something else: working outside the house doesn’t stop the work that needs to be done inside the house. The laundry, dishes, cleaning and errands all still need to get done, preferably by Mom, as always.

After loosing 10 pounds (one of the good things to come out of this experience) and countless hours of sleep, I realized this was not the job for me.

And so I’m back, where I should have stayed all along. My writing, in good times and bad, calms me. It slows me down and puts things in perspective.

I cannot tell you how many times I have started writing about a question or problem I may have and, after countless revisions and re-writes, have found the problem resolved in 400 words or less, and not always the way I thought it would.

Some people can talk a subject to death – I can write one to death. And that’s okay. It works for me.

So here I am again. My apologies, especially to those who “follow” me, for whatever reason. I thank you for your patience and promise to do better in the future.

Here's to many more posts!

Goodbye Summer

I was going to write about how much I despise Labor Day – the unofficial end of summer and the beginning of school - but then I thought, how typical. I haven’t run into one mother in the past few weeks that isn’t mourning the end of these carefree summer days.

It’s not that I don’t love Fall and all it encompasses: warm sunny days, cool nights, sweaters, football games, mums, pumpkins and leaf piles. It’s just that I’m not quite ready for everything else Fall brings with it: alarm clocks, homework, schedules, sports practices and stress.

To me, Labor Day is the Granddaddy of all Sundays. I get that feeling in the pit of my stomach - that feeling I still get on Sunday nights - that the good times are over and it’s back to work (and I haven’t been in school in… quite a few years!)

So here I sit, Labor Day evening, in a quiet house, with alarm clocks set, backpacks full of shiny new school supplies and kids asleep, dreaming of the new school year, and I can’t help but think back on the summer, and how it seemed to pass in an instant. As one friend put it, wasn’t it just June 18? Where did the summer go?

It went to vacations at the beach, swim meets and baseball games. It went to morning walks with a friend, lunches at the North End Beach Grill and drinks on the deck. It went to afternoons on the beach and evenings on the boardwalk. It went to family, friends and good times.

The Summer of 2010 is over for us. Oh, perhaps summer doesn’t really end until September 23, when Autumn begins, but for the Kopp family, summer is finished. School starts tomorrow, soccer started last week, and preseason began a few weeks ago.

Now that Labor Day is (almost) over, I can look at the months ahead more objectively. The start of the school year is really a fresh start for me; almost like a new year. I make resolutions, update my calendar, clean out drawers and start new routines. It's a new beginning!

So I say goodbye to another wonderful Summer. I will pack up our pool towels, goggles, beach tags and happy memories and look forward to a fantastic year ahead. A year filled with a new school for my daughter, a new job for me, and new experiences for all of us.

Summer may be over, but never fear – I hear Memorial Day is only 266 days away!

Be Nice!

Be Nice! Two simple words we hear often when we are young. I find myself using them with my children even now, and we are definitely past the playground age.

Nice is often thought of as such a boring word, but think about it. In the dictionary, its definition is “requiring precision or tact; pleasing or pleasant; attractive; kind.”

Pleasant and kind are two adjectives that are hard to find in today’s world. We don’t see many pleasant politicians or kind entertainers. And tact? Forget it! Turn on the television and you see the opposite of nice – rude, mean, inappropriate.

An athlete cheats on his wife; a politician interrupts a proceedings; a protester screams an obscenity – this has become the norm on TV. And nothing seems to be done to these people. What are we teaching our children?

When I was young (pull out the violins) we were taught to respect our elders; what comes around goes around; there are consequences to our actions.

In today’s reality-obsessed world, anything goes.

Be nice – I would like to bring that phrase back. It’s simple. It’s straightforward. And it tells people just what we want them to do. Join me?

Summer Swim

I have had the pleasure of watching my girls swim on our local pool's swim team this summer. Every Wednesday night and Saturday morning for the past month, I have stood on the edge of a pool cheering them on as they swim backstroke or butterfly, freestyle or breast stroke. The oldest has been swimming on the team for nine years; the youngest is just finishing up her third year.

After this long, you would think I would know a little about swimming. You would be wrong. I still have a tendency to ask what team they are playing this week. I just recently found out that lane placement was key in determining who the good swimmers were. (My husband proclaimed that perhaps that was why our girls weren’t winning; they should be in the center lanes – those swimmers always win!) And I steadfastly refuse to volunteer for any position other than snack bar at any meet (Food, I know; strokes, not so much!)

Despite this lack of understanding, I truly love to watch the girls swim. Perhaps it is because I myself cannot swim. I honestly don’t think I could pass the swim test at our pool. (This test requires any child under the age of 12 to swim 1 ½ laps freestyle and then tread water for 90 seconds. Passing this test allows them free reign anywhere in the pool. )

When I tell people this, they laugh. Sadly, I am not kidding. I then relay the story of my near-death experience at the pool.

When my middle child was just a few months old, I was watching my then 5-year-old son go off the diving board. However, I soon realized (with the help of a lifeguard) that if he didn’t have his tag (which of course he didn’t – he takes after me), I needed to be in the pool when he jumped off the board. I blame my next decision on postpartum exhaustion. I decided that I would simply slide into the pool with my 3-month-old baby on my hip and hang on to the side while he jumped.

As I was sinking to the bottom of the pool, I realized why, for a number of reasons, this wasn’t a good idea. One: this newborn was heavy, like an anchor. Two: if I was hanging on the side of the pool, water up to my shoulders, then said heavy baby propped on my hip would be completely submerged. Not a good idea all around.

They say your life flashes in front of you during these near-death experiences. What flashed in front of me was the headline in our local newspaper: “Mom dies in local pool surrounded by young children because she was too stupid and too heavy for teen lifeguard to save.”

Luckily, a kind neighbor saw me floundering and asked if I needed some help. (“What makes you think that? The fact that my baby is choking or that my sunglasses are floating toward the deep end of the pool?”)

After heaving, I mean handing, my sweet child into the arms of my rescuer, I then, after numerous attempts, dragged my body up and over the edge of the pool. Being the good mother that I am, my first reaction was to check and see if anyone had seen this debacle. Then, I checked my daughter.

Of the two of us, she fared better than I did. In fact, to this day, I firmly believe this is why she is such a strong swimmer. She realized early on that her mother was no help near water.

So I’ve left the swimming lessons up to the experts and I watch the girls swim, standing proudly on the pool deck. Everyone is happy – and safe!

An Afternoon at the Park

Some go for the hits. Others go for the pitching. We go for the sights!

There’s nothing like a Sunday afternoon at the Phillies game. Santa has given my son the Sunday package to the Phillies games for the past three years. While he attends most games, every once in a while he has a game himself and the tickets are up for grabs.

This past Sunday, my youngest daughter and I decided to take advantage of his playoff game (no worries, he won; we will see their championship game) to head down to Citizens Bank Park and catch the Phillies vs. Reds.

On a beautiful, bright, sunny afternoon, the girls got to take in the game. While this was my third game this season, it was my daughter’s first. She was a good sport and even expressed excitement about going. (This was the same child who, on the first day of her brother’s baseball season, a cold, damp, cloudy March afternoon a few years ago, proclaimed, “I hate baseball!”)

We got there at the top of the second inning and, after a quick stop for a hat for Mom and french fries for, well Mom again, we settled into our seats.

I have been to the Phillies game with my husband and my son (on Mother’s Day – isn’t he sweet!), so I know the drill. Sit down, settle in, and don’t talk unless it has to do with baseball - and you know what you are saying.

Imagine my surprise when my daughter actually let me speak. We discussed the sun (it’s hot out there in the afternoon); the Phillie Phanatic (he is fun to watch); the Fan-o-vision (neither of us really wanted to be caught on that); and food (my favorite subject!)

We even talked baseball – imagine that. (When will Chase be back anyway?)

I took her picture, and she didn’t complain (too much) when I asked a woman in the row behind us to take our picture. What a sport!

Best of all, she didn’t whine when I told her we were leaving in the eighth inning! (My son has never left a game early. This lead to a two-hour wait in traffic after our last game together! What a way to end Mother’s Day!)

It was a great afternoon – the Phillies won (we heard the last out on the radio) and, more importantly, my daughter and I got to spend a beautiful afternoon together discussing everything, and nothing! It ended with a “Thanks for taking me Mom!” from my daughter. Music to a mother’s ears!

Any time, sweetie, any time!