Uncategorized

Two minutes and I’m done

It’s amazing…I’m driving down the road and on comes a song I totally can belt out…’Red, red wine.’ You know the one, right? I start grooving, singing the chorus like I’m performing to the passerbys, and just like that, after 2 minutes, I’m done. Next, please. Okay, Cyndi Laupert, ‘Girls Just Wanna Have Fun.’ I get through what the mom says she’s gonna do with her life, then what the dad says and…I’m done. Moving on, please. And this is how it goes. This is possibly why I can’t manage to focus on a single, solitary thing in my life. By the way, can we tell what kind of music I’ve been into lately? It’s like I step into a time machine every time I take a ride. It’s great…while the first two minutes are going! lol

I think technology has put us in such a place where we can skip things that bore us. Can I see a show of hands that remembers waiting all day to hear a song play on the radio? With their Radio Shack recorder ready to press ‘record’? Actually I do have to wait for the song to finish lately because it is on the archaic radio station, but typically I listen to Spotify and I’m like two minutes, then skip. The same goes with my computer tabs. I’ve got a gazillion open at all times. Flipping and flopping. It’s a real problem. Same goes for my brain. I just took a shower and the whole time I’ve got 20 ideas, things, recipes, Amazon cart lists…you name it, swirling in my head like a helicopter without a landing pad. It’s exhausting!

So I did a thing yesterday. I think I’ve discussed mindfulness before on here. But yesterday I woke up and purposely became mindful of my day. My children. My hours. I left work at work. (which isn’t the greatest since I’m self-employed and people need me almost 24 hours, constantly) But I did. Every time my phone rang, I was like ‘whatever.’ And it made for the most amazing day. I thought of whatever was in front of me. My kids, in particular. And for like the first time, they didn’t stress me out. They really shouldn’t as much as I allow them to. They’re kids, for crying out loud. They have needs. Okay, so I don’t really need to see that deposit you made in the toilet. Just wipe and carry on with yourself. But, I let it roll yesterday. And I liked it a lot!! I just might try to do that more often.

I’ve been running a contest all month! I know, right? And I must’ve not been in the moment or I would’ve mentioned it sooner. Anyway, you’ve got 2 days to enter to win an Amazon card. So here is the link! I wish you luck and have a great rest of your week. 😉

https://gleam.io/1gKDc/fresh-fiction-july

 

Uncategorized

Masking the Normal

You know, you can make someone very unhappy when you say, “is this the new normal?” Trust me, I did and didn’t even mean to. Like wearing masks, not going to school, no more handshaking (which by the way, I’m completely cool with), and keeping apart in stores. Which also, by the way, I’m so okay with. Truth be told, I like having that invisible hula hoop of space between others. Have you ever been paying at the grocery store and someone is literally on top of you, waiting for you to sign that pesky card reader, breathing as though you’re taking more than the 10 seconds it takes to scrawl your mark and press ‘submit’. I dig it. But today…today was hilarious. I’m waiting at the entrance of the store in my car while my mother runs in for more hot dogs (we were 2 short for lunch) and a stretched, black Escalade glides in front of me and out pops a man. The car barely made a full stop and he was out the door. He was masked in this handkerchief and running toward the door. If this moment had only happened five months ago, I’d have called the cops and headed for the back to save my poor, hotdog-buying-mother. But it was just another customer, running in for whatever they were missing two of, no doubt. Isn’t it crazy? Do you wear a mask in places? I mean there are places that denies you entry without face coverings, but what about the others that are relaxed about the rule? I admit, I’ve gone in without one and I’m looked at like I’ve broken the law. Like I’m spilling chemicals with each breath I heave. “I forgot my mask!” I feel like shouting before I’m taken out and flogged. It’s such a weird time. And I certainly hope it’s not the new normal.

Onto an unrelated thought. I was driving down the interstate and saw a truck that had ‘Love your Veggies’ written on it. Now watch this…how my mind wanders. When did veggies become a word? Can we do this ‘ies’ with other words? I can imagine a mother trying to coax her tight-lipped toddler into eating their broccoli and while zooming the fork in for the landing, she says “Eat your veggies”. Because let’s face it, vegetables are so formal. Who can say it in a sing-song tone that your kid would open his mouth for it. Not that veggies makes the jaw unhinge. But it softens the formality of it. I had a beloved dog I named Walter. He was sooo a Walter. Large, gray, ghost-eyed Weimaraner. But what did I do when I talked lovey to him? “Come on Waltie”. Isn’t it crazy? Have you softened a word by changing the ending?

Onto the week…thank goodness it doesn’t resemble last week. Remember I had 7 doctor appointments last week? I thought I was going to hide on Friday and never come out. Yes, I got a haircut finally! And although I thought after not getting a cut since January, I’d resemble a castaway, it turns out only the top grew. After half an inch, I’m looking like me. Should I be taking vitamins? And the dentist, you ask…after not going for 2 years? It turns out I’ve been hiding for nothing. Recap: my last appointment, after 3 years, she said I had 6 cavities. I mean, come on, do I know anything about the bristols on the end of that handle? Do I not aim them nightly and move up and down? Evidently not with six cavities. I was so embarrassed, I left with my head hung and grabbing all the free toothbrushes they’d give me. But not really. This dentist, a new one, after looking at the same teeth I had 2 years ago, told me I only had one. One. Easy peasy. But then I have one that needs a crown. As long as it’s pretty, I’m fine. 🙂 Makes you wonder about the dentist that told me I had six. hmmm.

So here’s to a wonderful week, everyone. I have 3 doctor’s appointments in total for this one. Follow up for that cavity, and two for my daughter. I’m trying to take it one day at a time. After last week, I think this is doable.

Have a good one, everyone!! I’ll keep you posted on some sewing projects I’ve been making in my head at nights. I hope to sit in front of my machine soon and bring them to life. 😉

Uncategorized

Busy…the new 4 Letter Word

I realize there were come a time one day as I sit in my room, secluded and isolated from family because of my old age, (we all know younger people make little time for their elders) and remember how I used to be sooo busy. Maybe. Will I live to be that old? Working like this? Who knows. All I do know…at this very moment…after this very busy week, is that there is such a thing as too busy. It’s rather awful, really. Every day I’ve had appointments, endless hours of driving, picking up/dropping off, last minute grocery shopping, etc. I’d have to say I never complained aloud. Always had a smile. But let me tell you, by Thursday evening after 6 doctor’s appointments, a full week of my job, volley ball, and a foot surgery…..I’m pooped! And I still have a dentist and hair appointment awaiting me at 8 am. tomorrow. It’s insane. By the way, I haven’t had a hair cut since January…I’m definitely due! Will next week be different? Sure. They all are. But there’s something to know, something to always keep in perspective: when we’re too busy, we miss everything around us. The snuggles, the stories, and the companionship. It becomes a blur. Then I’m in my old age room wondering how it all flew by.

It’s okay to be tired, right? It’s okay that I don’t want to do all of it, right? Not all at one time at least. It stresses me out. And who can effectively be all those things? Business owner, author, Mom, girlfriend, yada yada? Well we can, but can we successfully? Can I remember to add all the fruits and protein in their diet, as well as wash the socks and email that teacher? It’s daunting, buddy. Daunting.

I listened to a mindfulness station yesterday while driving to my job. It was such gibberish that I ended up turning it, but I wish there was something to remind me to be mindful. Maybe some hints. Maybe just a road sign, blinking….SLOW DOWN!!!

In this horrible pandemic, I hope everyone has experienced a moment of slowing down. You know, after you concluded that cleaning out your closet was a monumental mistake? I’m in week 4 of walking around piles of clothes in mine. One to donate, one that I wish I’ll be that skinny again, and one that I just would cry if someone made me take it to goodwill, but I know the style is dead. Never to return. Should’ve thrown it out while I was in high school. Nah, it’s not that bad. On the bright side, stores, after not being open for a couple months, are trying to move some clothes. Sales are great! So as bags exit my closet, new things enter it. I digress…..Slowing down is good, Busy is bad. Don’t be so busy. (I’m telling myself, but you can listen too, if you need).

Busy…the new 4 letter word.

 

Uncategorized

Take Cheese Puffs for example

I can’t just eat one. Cheese puffs are my weakness. I’m not addicted by any means…until I open the bag. And then, let’s say, it’s my life’s mission to finish them until you can’t see that my fingers were once flesh toned. So I have to be careful when such a bag is purchased. I have to pour from…not eat directly from the container. The same goes for popcorn. And I must admit, it could be painful to watch me eat popcorn. Nothing like what’s depicted in this picture of Garfield. Nope, I eat one at a time. Sucking the salt from every popped kernel of the bowl. The large bowl. And this is how it goes for some of my choice picks in life. Transition to television…

As of late, I’ve taken to a new series. Ah, series. May I never watch prime time television again. I couldn’t possibly wait for the next week’s episode. No, I’ve gotta have it all right now. All 22 episodes to each of the seven seasons. It’s a problem, I fear. I’m locked into this thing like nothing else. I could walk the streets of this show and live quite normal. Talk to the characters and get great insight to their well beings. If they had any. I’m starting to remind myself of the crazy lady on Misery. lol

Enough about that. On to other things on my wondrous mind. Do you ever think in your mind that you’re happy you’re not so-in-so? Like living their life would be the pits? I admit, I sometimes do. Then I wondered tonight, ‘does someone ever think the same of me?’ Like, do they see my life as a train they hope they never catch? Food for thought. Luckily I’m ignorant to my own plight. I live it everyday. I’m immune to its every day taste. It’s like raising my kid and never seeing him grow. Uncle whoever shows up and his jaw drops at the six inches he’s grown since he last visited. This is a good thing. I guess.

It’s fall now. I’ve said it before, this season depresses me. Don’t get me wrong, I love it. The cooler weather, the change of colors, and the sweaters…thank the Lord for sweaters. Now I don’t look like a total geek wearing sweaters indoors. It’s cooler temperature, sure they matter! But then there’s the darker hour coming earlier, the less chatter of summer bugs and more chaos of annoying crickets. The land becomes barren, the trees get skinnier without foliage, and outside just gets sad. It’s a love-hate thing with me and fall.

So far, 3 of my kids have been sick because of this fall. I took 2 to the doctor last week. I hate when I regret doing that. But it had been three weeks of coughing. At what time do you take them? They didn’t have a fever, but the incessant coughing was getting out of hand. Surely it had gone bacterial by now, I thought. That’s what my normal doctor would’ve said. Had she been not retired and I was now forced to see an assistant to the assistant. *head palm* Yes, that assistant….she advised saline. Okay, don’t get me wrong, I don’t want her to prescribe a pharmacy at the first murmur of a cough, but this was 3 weeks. Incessant. To the point I told both of them to be quiet. Who does that? They’re coughing lungs up. But it was grating. On everyone. So I told the assistant to the assistant, “Can I just please get 2 prescriptions to go? Just in case it takes more than saline? You know, to make me feel like this $320 out of pocket visit is really worth it?” And so I’m the proud owner of 2 scripts for antibiotics. I’ll get it filled for sure. I earned that. Miraculously they’ve been coughing less. Even sans the saline. Who knows. Either way, I’ve got something to fight it with should it so boldly return as it did.

I’m off to contemplate some more. It’s a dangerous thing, you know. 🙂

Uncategorized

My idea of fun…

As I pulled the covers back to get into bed tonight, I saw my bag of candied licorice, or as I’d like to look at it with beams of glow and call it, my little pieces of heaven. Ha-ha! It must not take much to please me, you might be thinking. No and yes. Remember what it was like when we were little? Yeah, I have a hard time, too. But do you ever think back to sliding boards? The thrill of slipping down and almost gliding off the whole thing into the worn ground below it? With the thought of a bruised back from the end of it? I just went down one with my daughter and trust me, not the same feeling. Maybe because I bumped down more  than slid? Had a child between my legs? It was probably all the above. Put into the equation that when we did it a lot younger, we allowed ourselves to feel the thrill…we lived in the moment. Heck, it probably was because we were a lot smaller and able to fly down the thing. But what we weren’t doing was asking ourselves what we were going to cook for dinner, did the kids have clean clothes to wear the next day…these thoughts weren’t plaguing us. So when was the last time you had fun? Me, you ask? Today around noon. I snuck into my room, got back into bed with my new bag of candy, ate it until I got sick, then fell asleep for 30 glorious minutes. Thirty, I say!! And I didn’t have to worry about a kid, worry about being late, worry about anything. Of course my kids began to wonder about my whereabouts and came in search. Nothing like seeing your mother in bed during the day, huh? “Are you sick” they asked. Nope. Just living the dream! LOL

We need to do more things that make us happy. Find things to make us happy. Life is short. We hear that all the time. But indeed it is. You never know when your number is up. Go to bed with a bag of candy, open a book or watch that movie. Just for the fun of it. Make it happen. Put someone in charge of the children first, of course. Then just savor the feeling. It’s over in a flash, but it sure feels good while it lasts. And do it frequently. I told my overworked son this weekend not to sweat the small stuff. He said he was young, it’s all the big stuff! And I guess to him it is. He hasn’t seen the rapidness of life moving quickly by. But it does.

It’s blasted hot here. I could use some cooler weather. But not too cool. I enjoy no layers right now. My poor flowers are gasping for water. And outrunning the hot weather with no air condition in my car is becoming a pipe dream. I thought I’d put off the thousand dollar repair with autumn on my heels. Not so. I’m still sweating like a pig from my driveway to my destination. Turn the sun down, someone!

Tomorrow is the beginning of the week. I shall choose to make it a good one. No matter what. And if the going gets tough, I’ve got candy!

Uncategorized

Sleep Anyone?

sleepI was particularly grumpy today. I’ve been that way for the last week or so. Why is it that most parents I talk to, all agree that after their kids go to sleep, they feel the need to stay up late and enjoy the alone time? It’s like I’m one-eyed until midnight…barely hanging on, but continuing the fight of sleep, just so I can be by myself. Doing nothing really. The mere idea of being alone keeps me awake. “Hey, I can eat ice cream and read magazines while watching movies until the light of day if I want! And no one can stop me. No one will ask for a spoonful, to change the channel, or why I’m not in the kitchen stirring up a meal. Nope, it’s just me. Me, me, me!!!”

It doesn’t help that I have a promotional month with all the movie channels. I flip and watch, flip and watch…until I’m comatose. Then morning comes and I’m a bear. A real, live bear. My boyfriend is the total opposite. If he doesn’t sleep, he can still function. He can put a new roof on a house, dig a ditch, and paint the barn. Whatever. Now deny him food and it’s a new story. Bear claws will be seen. It’s a good thing we aren’t alike in this manner. Food is a “whatever” for me. I can starve, eat a ritz cracker, and be fine to carry on.

Why do I continue to do it? I know morning is coming. It comes the same time (about) each day. I’m staring at the clock, watching the minutes tick by, and still I make a conscious decision to stay awake. I know! Maybe I’ll set all the clocks back a bit. Like anyone will know they’re getting a head start to slumber. I just might try it. Then I have a fighting chance to get in bed before midnight. And people around me the next day are a little more at ease. 🙂

Uncategorized

To Keep, or Not to Keep

hoarde.1Today is a lazy Sunday. You would think I would take this time to write. I did stay in bed an extra hour, plotting about Amy. But no. I did not write. Perhaps I’ll blog about that issue at a later time.

Today I began sorting through some things. Pictures, clothing, and toys to name a few. Toys that are keepsakes include Woody, Buzz Lightyear, and Jesse. And don’t get me started on doll babies. My daughter never took to them, or as she calls them, “creepy things that their eyes follow you around the room.” That’s okay; I can keep them. And so comes the question of hoarding memories. Perfectly cute dolls will not get tossed out. Case closed on that one. Someone could play with them. It could happen.

As for the mounds of picture frames. Yeah, I remember every time my baby turned a different month, off to the photographer I’d go. And home with 20 pictures to frame, I came. Oh, did I mention every time someone close in the family gave me picture, I’d buy an 8 x 10 frame and up that would go, too? Ahh…I have so many enormous frames, it’s ridiculous. Of course, after the third child, you kind of stopped going to the photographer. I was lucky if I took out my own camera more than three times a year. My fifth child just goes through the pictures only hoping to see himself in one of them. Poor guy. So I solved the picture hoarding with stripping the frames and putting the pictures in an album. Or at least I will when I get some at the store. Note to self: pick up at least ten albums. Large ones.

Now for the clothing. I know what you’re thinking: clothing? Don’t you remember precious little outfits you’d dress your child in and want to keep it forever? So I was putting my memory pile together and it began getting really large. As in, “Honey, we need another 3 x-large totes at the store when you pick up the ten albums.”

No, I know they’ll never wear these items again. But I can remember when they did. And do I want another child bustling about in these archives? Granted, some are out of style, but some are classic. Like my little boy’s (okay, so he’s 18 years old) jacket from the “Cars” movie. He wore that everywhere. And a little red robe that my other boy wore (all right, so he’s 16). You never caught him without that thing on. It was like he was a little Hugh Hefner in that thing. Always. Had. It. On.

Where do I stop keeping things? I feel ashamed for tying these items of clothing up for no one else to ever wear. But really… I just need to know they’re there…in the stacked totes should I ever want to recall the memories. Should they ever get married, settle down, and ask where that little pink dress with the daisy on the front is. Am I a hoarder? Does anyone else do this? Feel free to chime in. No, really…. 🙂

Uncategorized

The Graduate

gradThat picture, minus the date, is how I felt when I sat for hours watching the graduating class of my sons’ take their diploma and walk away into the night. A group of young adults, weathering the tests, classes, and teachers for the past 13 years…out in the real world now. It was surreal. My baby boy. The one who cried so hard when I left him at the little church preschool when he was 4 years old…now a graduate. I remember not being able to take hearing him cry. I called my husband from the parking lot and told him he would be taking him from now on. He couldn’t do it either. So I called my mother to drop him off. Eventually it got better. He acclimated to the other children and settled in. But boy was it tough.

He never gave me any trouble in school. Always a straight ‘A’ student, very conscious of his GPA, and rarely ever missing a day. I had it easy being his mom. And then the night came to see it end. No more seeing him pulling his hair at the counter, trying to squeeze out another page to his already 7 page long paper. No more having him ride the bus for the 45 minutes it took to get to the school. No more curfew to get the bed so he could wake up at 5 in order to ride the bus! He is now officially in limbo until he finds a job and waits to go to college in the fall.

So how do I feel about it all? Old. I no longer can say I have 5 in school. I have four in school and one going to college. Ahh…it gives me shivers. One is out. OUT, I tell you. Out among the other responsible citizens of the world. Able to vote, able to work, go to jail if he’s bad. (although I highly doubt it…still, he could go) I’ve got an adult on my hands. No, I won’t say it too often in my mind. I can’t. To admit it means I’ve lost a little bit of the world I’ve lived in for so long a time. I prefer denial. When I see him meandering in the hall after all the others have gone to school, I simply say to myself he’s just out for the day. It gets me through it. Don’t ask me what I’ll do when fall really comes and I have to leave him at that college. I think he may have to call my mom to take me home because he can’t take the crying! 🙂