FOMO and Beta Fish

Please don't let my son know I used the phrase 'FOMO.' Let's be clear, I just recently learned what that stood for so I'm thinking I'm pretty hip.

I'm not a regular mom, I'm a cool mom.

It's the beginning of a three-day weekend. Memorial Day is Monday. Yes, I'm thinking of those who served -- Granddad among them -- and those who gave the ultimate sacrifice for my freedom. I learned about the red poppy this week and wish I had one to wear Monday. I will update my profile pictures on my social media sites with a poppy to serve as my way to honor veterans.

With a three-day weekend ahead of us, and then, only three more lunches to pack -- yes, only three more days of school -- we have the world of opportunity and possibilities. Where should we go? What can we do? A day trip? A drive downtown? Explore our city? Sample different ice cream shops? I don't want to miss out on a day that could have some activity. FOMO?

We do have a few obligations this weekend other than the usual grocery shopping, laundry and cleaning. We have a graduation party and a coaches' party to attend. Both will be fun and require little planning on my part. Then, we have our anniversary dinner Sunday p.m. 21 years in the books. Our anniversary was actually earlier this week and we chose to celebrate over half-price Sonic shakes. 21 years people, 21 years.

Monday is free, wide open. I asked the girls what we could do and they suggested going to the pool or playing with friends. Well, that doesn't sound like a day trip or an adventure. I'm going to keep working that angle.

I also have a stack of books from the library. A few cookbooks, a few fiction reads and some non-fiction choices, too. One is titled 'Women Are Crazy' and it is about making mom friends. That makes me a bit sad because I miss my mom friend who moved last year. But, I have tried to make friends this year and succeeded a bit with a couple of moms at the girls' school. Two. Maybe three.

My friend who moved said there should be a match.com or Tinder for moms. Can you imagine the profile questions? Do you eat organic? Do you prefer Trader Joe's over the traditional grocery store? Do you buy gift cards or Barbies for birthday presents? Do you cuss? Do you drink? Do your children get baths every night? Are you good at braiding hair? Do you watch TV? Do you let your children watch TV? Do your children know the words to songs from Grease and they are only eight years old?

Maybe that is something she and I should develop. We could be rich. We could have more friends. Wait, nah. I'm good with the friends I have. Yes, I could add a few and plus, I do want to connect better with the girls' friends' moms. (Too much plural-ness and possesive-ness.)

It's so hard. It takes work. I don't try to impress the other moms, but sometimes I feel like I need to present my best self. Whoa. That's too much like dating, right?

And, yet, we are here on a Friday night looking forward to a weekend with few activities. If I had new friends, we'd have to do stuff. You know, get to know you kind of stuff. Unless, everyone is feeling like I do.

Do we have this FOMO belief? If we don't have plans, are we missing out? If we don't have a full calendar, are we short-changing our lives? Are other people sitting in their front yards with neighbors enjoying the 900 percent humidity with cocktails and laughter? Are there mom groups making plans for activities and day trips on Memorial Day?

FOMO! FOMO! FOMO!

(Right now, Chris would say something such as 'that's not how you use it' and I would try to have a discussion. Oh, wait, he's headed off to Austin for a fun start to Memorial Day weekend. He doesn't have time to explain the lingo kids use these days.Plus, he isn't FOMO-ing. He's in the middle of it.)

I felt a bit of FOMO yesterday when I saw my empty Nordstrom cart along with the banner announcement of a half-annual anniversary sale. It's not 'the' anniversary sale, but it is a sale nonetheless. I have some Nordstrom notes waiting to be spent and I have needs for my birthday trip. I started to shop. I found some boots, sneakers, a pair of jeans and a shirt. I kept looking. I kept paging through the site. I even looked at sleepwear. I don't need sleepwear. I kept thinking, there may be a deal in there and I had the FOMO. (Are you supposed to use 'the' in front of FOMO? This is exactly why Chris doesn't want me to try and use the phrase.)

This FOMO is real. Sometimes I do get caught up in what am I missing. I have a DVR that records two shows at once, but that means something might not get recorded. Am I missing out?

I am trying to buy a backpack for work and you would think I'm planning a lifetime commitment. Am I concerned I might miss out on the perfect one?

I struggle with finding items for the home because I might not pick the one because there are so many choices.

I try to find the best show to binge on Netflix, Amazon, Hulu. Too much, too many.

FOMO, already.

I do try not to get caught up. I do try to appreciate the here and now. I do try to only go a few pages in on Amazon searches for products and not look at all the results.

I do try not to Google answers to all life's questions. I can't control what other people do.

After Chris left tonight, he sent me a picture of a Google search he conducted. It was on possible reasons for why a fish would die. It read that a change in water temperature can shock a fish possibly resulting in death.

Guess what happened before Chris left? His beta fish, Larry died. The fish I cared for since Spring Break. The fish the girls took turns feeding every morning and night. The fish who I actually talked to at times. The fish who Caroline claimed she would play with because he wiggled when she looked at him.

I cleaned the bowl tonight while Chris readied for his night out. I carefully scooped him out of the dirty water and plopped him in a bowl. I rinsed the bowl, filled it with the nice lukewarm water a tropical fish needs, squirted in the beta fish drops to help do something to the water and then put him back in his fresh bowl. I sprinkled in some food flakes.

A few minutes later, I noticed Larry was not moving. He was upside down. No fluttering fins. No gulping for air and snacking on food.

And, no emotions from anyone in this family except for me. I felt so badly. Gervais carried him in a net to the toilet. Camille quickly volunteered to flush him -- even waved at him as he went down. Caroline didn't bat an eye. Chris took a picture.

Now, you get why I received that picture of fish dying from shock.

Wonder what Larry will miss now that he is gone? The three-day weekend? Chris' new apartment next year? A bigger bowl?

Time for another search. What kind of fish will we buy now? How many results will that produce? There goes my fourth part on an uneventful Friday night.

FOMO on the right fish. It's up there with the right backpack, right booties and right friends.