Still Crazy After All These Years

Look what $300 can get you at an arcade!

"Mom, they had these back when you were a kid?"

"I think they had them when Great-Grandma was a kid."

"For real?"

"Yes, even back in Biblical times, these glasses were a comedy main stay."

Silence.

"They must have really needed it back then what with the flood, babies floating down rivers in baskets, and whales eating people."

You can't argue with genius.

Cabin Fever

Happy Fall!




Every year I repeat over and over again how much I love fall. I always say it's my favorite season. And it is, until the first snow. And winter is until the first hints of Spring come.

Our little family cabin in the woods is most enjoyed in the fall. I love the smell of the fall woods, especially the sugar maples. The crunch of the leaves as you walk is delightful. Geese are honking as they head South in perfect Vs.

The cabin is on a gravel country road. The walk in either direction is beautiful. We often see Bald Eagles hunting, perched in the woods watching over the open fields.

The quiet here is unlike any other. Cell phones don't work. There's no electricity. Battery powered, hand-held dohickeys get left in the car for the ride home. They aren't needed here when there are dead trees to knock down, sticks to bang stuff on, and the woods to hike in.

Pissy Hissy Fit

"Oh, I do everything you do, I just do it and work a full time job too."

The next time I hear this, honestly, I'm going to bitch slap the speaker.

Life is about choices. I choose to drive a cheaper car, cut coupons so we can save for vacations, and make our home a happy one. Other moms may choose to work outside the home. I've done that too. Both are equally guilt ridden jobs. Seriously, though, gals, it's time to just let it go.

This fight. Well, it's over as far as I'm concerned. Every time a woman opens her mouth to bash another one, well we all lose.

I'm happy and content with my life and if you're not, then that's your problem, not mine. So, go fix it.

I heard the above quote in the grocery check out line. I must have been wearing my stay at home mom uniform for the speaker quickly summed me up and attempted to cut me off at the knees. I just laughed and said, my life is simpler and happier since I sold my business. I'm really happy just making our house a home. She didn't need to know that I'm not well enough to work. She didn't need to hear all the reasons that I don't. She didn't have to hear that just a few short years ago I worked twelve hour days and seven day weeks.

I did have some parting words for her. "Boy, I did the math when my son was young. I figured out that my salary would have gone for disposable diapers (as I noted in her cart), daycare, and convenience food (frozen lasagna peeking from a bag). Didn't seem worth it to me to be so tired and stressed out over so little."

OK, maybe I did contribute to the fight a little. I guess maybe I did verbally bitch slap her. Forgive me Lord, but my mouth got the better of me and maybe, just maybe, I saved her.

Or not.

She glared at me and I simply smiled and flashed her the peace sign. Turned my cart around and walked my mom jeans right out the door.

Have a nice day.

Being Content with No Apologies

Nobody likes to hear excuses. I think it's something that once you reach about forty years of age, you realize, nobody really cares about the whys and the wherefores. You realize the fact that if you're secure with whatever it is, then that's all that matters.

Let me backtrack. We have one child. Now in the Mommy world, lots of Mommas weigh each other's rap sheets. Two kids, average. Three kids, admirable. Four, wow. More than that, Lord help you and let us all bow down to your greatness. Have one and there's always this awkward pause of, "One and only, huh?". And then the silence gets filled with what you imagine to be the ramblings of the other person's mind reviewing all the stereotypical only child traits. Brat, spoiled, self-centered, smothered, hovered over, bow-tie wearing geek, nervous parents...

I used to offer all our reasons. Six miscarriages, being turned down by multiple adoption agencies, having the disease I have...

Making excuses, trying to justify to another just why I am the mother that I am.

Reality? No one cares. And in a little blurb of excuses like that, without completely hearing your whole story, they're left with a lot of unknowns. And they judge all those unknowns with what they have--they're own experiences.

I love the honesty of kids. "Why do you only have one boy?" I got this from a little girl just trying to figure out how it all works. She was satisfied with a short simple answer. "Because that's what we got." Her answer? "Cool." If we could all just be satisfied to give and receive such acceptance. From her, I've learned to shorten my answer. "We have one. Stopped at perfection."

Laugh laugh. True human connection. No excuses.

I have one. It's enough. I haven't always been completely happy by this and if another came along, we'd be thrilled. But, I'm content. Content with no apologies. Believe me, it's taken me a long time to get here and I'd love to shout it from the rooftops.

I've found it's easier just to live in contentment than to try to sway someone who carries their own set of experiences and their own set of baggage.

I know this is a sign of getting older. I've heard a lot of people say that when you get closer to forty, you become much happier and secure in yourself. I can feel that coming. And, Lord, please forgive me, but I'm holding on to thirty nine as long as I can.

Living your life with no excuses is close impossible, I know. We somehow feel like we have to fully educate someone, but the problem with that is they don't get all the hidden little details and events that got you to where you are. The audience for such truth telling is left to best friends, husbands, and really close relatives.

What it all boils down to is that we want to be understood. And to do that, we first need to be accepting and understanding of others.

Maybe we all weigh each other. I once read a really great book about power struggles with women. It helped me tremendously in dealing with my 65 all female employees. Personally, I think the book was helpful with dealing with men too, because they do all this weighing stuff too, just in a different way. We all want to feel like our burden is greater and our journey is much longer than anyone elses. If one person appears to have more burden than the other, the second will try to offer up more. And what ends up happening is a neverending saga of trying to one up each other. It ain't pretty. When you figure out how to give some up to equalize things, so much can be accomplished.

What excuses do you make? How are you working towards contentment?

My Little Guy

You get these glimpses of the grown up in your kid from time to time. Sometimes, it hits me hard. I'll be watching him when he's not watching me and, slam, I flash forward to driving, graduation, dating, college, marriage...

Hold on. Step back. Take it one moment at a time.

When I took this picture, I was quickly flash forwarded to graduation pictures. I don't know why. Perhaps I'm "psycho" as Young One once said when he was trying to figure out my mother sees all abilities. (He was three, I could see the gears turning in his mind as he contemplated finger painting the dog.)

Maybe I am psycho? Maybe one day we will take a picture framed by the branches of this tree. In the meantime, though, I'm going to continually remind myself to enjoy the ride.

Writing in the Dark

It's funny how we mom's fit our needs in with those of our families. I know a fellow writer who types while nursing her baby. I know another that hides in her upstairs closet with her laptop, stealing moments while her children search for her. I have this compulsion to write, but I can't seem to do it if the rest of my life isn't neatly compartmentalized into done to do lists and proactive planning.

Well, that's going to change. I've decided that I need to get me back. I spend so much time worrying and taking care of everyone else that I've lost quite a bit of myself. And I want me back. Writing makes me happy, so I'm going to figure out how I can fit it in. Nope, scratch that. I'm going to make it a priority and, at the same time, I'm going to become more of a priority too.

I've been clickin' and clackin' at these keys for years now. I've written many essays, been published under other names, and been working on a novel for a couple of years now.

I remember losing half of said novel when a virus hit my computer. Looking back, it's the best thing that could have ever happened to it. The rewrite has been tremendously rewarding and successful, but I push it aside, let all the squeaky wheels in my life get the grease. Ugh. It's frustrating even to put it down on paper. I'm not even sure I'm getting through.

I come from writer stock. My brother is a published author. My mom a gifted writer. I can rattle off a letter, a story, an article in very little time. This ramble has taken less than five minutes to get out. I get lost in words. I love to play with them. I've received several job offers since I sold my business to work with words, but the timing, the details, or my situation hasn't been ideal. And, honestly, what was really wrong with all these offers is that the words wouldn't be mine. They'd be smothered with do's and don'ts and must haves and parameters that just suffocate the creative energy in me. Not to mention the fact that I'm really not well enough to handle a full time job with full time responsibilities. And I guess, deep down, I want to write only for me, on my terms, and in my time.

I haven't received a dime for any of the writing I've done so far and that's fine with me. I haven't received any credit or accolades either, and that's fine too. My goal is not to earn a living through writing or to get attention or applause, but to get all the words that rattle around in my head down. Perhaps it's a bit of a compulsion, perhaps it's part of a healing process. Perhaps, I'm just a little crazy.

My blog has been solely mine. I don't spread it around, I don't publicize it and I have been very neglectful lately, mostly because I've been writing elsewhere.

Scary as it is to declare this. I want to write. I want to focus less on documenting my life and more on creating what I know are stories I need to tell. I also think I need to make some changes in my blog life. I think I need to branch out and share more to those closest to me and to others.

This is jumbled and not a great example of my writing style, but I'm excited and nervous and ready to focus more on what makes me happy. And what makes me happy is to write. And to write no longer hidden under someone else's name or behind the pages of a tiny blog. I want to own it, claim it, unwrapped and raw, but all mine.

Do I have the courage to click Publish Post? If you're reading this, I guess I do.

Nerf War 2009