Only those who attempt the absurd can achieve the impossible.

Albert Einstein

Our local weatherman is a savant. Seriously. The guy is almost never wrong. So when he predicted rain storms worthy of an ark, I had in mind a weekend spent at home. Lucky for us, he was totally off base with his prediction. Not a drop of precipitation fell on this head of mine and our weekend was about as wondrous as they come weather-wise.

Saturday was spent purging and reorganizing the dreaded basement space. It's all the stuff that we want to ignore and therefore the last place we want to spend our unexpectedly sunny Saturday. It had to be done nonetheless. Mario has trouble letting go of things and I have trouble dealing with his trouble. And thus it was less than sunny in our basement. But we persevered. The "keep" pile got smaller and the "donate" pile grew significantly. Although our next house will be a few hundred square feet larger than the one we have now, it lacks the storage space. We will enjoy a bigger kitchen, an extra bathroom, and roomier bedrooms, but a single car garage will take the place of a full-size basement. And if we want to be able to pull an actual car in the garage, things have to be sacrificed. Though it's not really a sacrifice if those items have remained unseen and unused for over 5 years. But we all have our internal battles, I certainly have mine, so one must be sensitive to the hurdles that must be overcome by the one they love. I could certainly use a lesson in softening my demeanor when it comes to these matters.

Our friend Angy proposed an impromptu date night. It's like she knew we were waging an epic battle over our earthly possessions all day and needed a night out sans kid. She's pretty spectacular that way. I was already one martini in by the time they got to the restaurant. (Does Portland have a place that serves pickle juice martinis? Gosh I hope so. They kind of make life grand.) Mario and I shed our frazzled-ness and enjoyed ourselves thoroughly. Three martinis later, all was forgiven and forgotten. Though now I'm slightly worried I could develop a drinking problem as a result of this move. We haven't tackled 2/3 of the house yet, which could translate into a lot of martinis and a big bar tab.

Sunday felt more devil-may-care. Once we roused Kiddo from his coma, which is no easy feat let me tell you, we went out for a leisurely breakfast. Mario has had an Oakley gift card burning a hole in his wallet since his birthday, so we took a short drive to the nearest store. Windows down, sunroof open, music up. Mario, an Oakley devotee, carefully researched lens and frame combinations and came up with a winning pair of shades, in my humble opinion. Kiddo, who has only owned Target sunglasses up until this point, scored a pair of his own. Jared is one of those amazing human beings that can pull off almost any look... and his new neon green Frogskins are no exception. 

Motherhood is such a mixed bag of emotions. Just a week ago I was weeping pitifully in an empty living room at the crack of dawn: How can he be fourteen? Welp. When did this happen? Welp. It's all happening too fast! Welp. Yesterday, as he picked out a fancy new pair of grownup sunglasses and his second pair of Converse All-Stars (red low-tops, for the record), I realized we are moving into a very cool phase, indeed. In our lives and his. He's more responsible and mature; he can and should have nicer things. (Within reason, of course. We are parents to just a single offspring, so that helps.) We aren't frivolous or showy people by any means, far from it, but we have a unique, funky kiddo and we are in the fortunate position to be able to buy him the sneakers he loves if we want to. And I love that. (Know that I don't take this luxury for granted for a single second. But we work hard to have what we have and that should be celebrated, too.) I also love that he loves things based on his attraction to them, not because society dictates their coolness. He marches to the beat of his own drum, that one.

Did I mention that in the midst of all this, we got 3 whole offers on our house? On a sunny Sunday afternoon? It's true.

Today it was back to the grindstone. An alarm that went off way too early and a mundane school morning routine. Today was personal record day at CrossFit and I went in at peace with the fact that I likely wasn't going to surpass my previous PRs. I knew it in my gut and whatever I did manage was going to be okay. And then, as often happens when it comes to my chosen form of fitness, I surprised myself. My back squat and press went up by 10 pounds each, and I reached a significant milestone: a 300 pound deadlift. On this rather unassuming Monday. When do you think I'll stop underestimating myself? Sure, it feels safer not to get my hopes up about things, to constantly manage my expectations, but why live like that? Why exist in a constant state of underestimation? Why not wake up every morning thinking, This is THE DAY that x, y and z are going to happen!? If it doesn't, I'm no worse for the wear (and that's what I have to realize). But when I actually set out to accomplish something and succeed? Well, that's icing on the (paleo) cake.