There are those times, that perhaps are due to my bouts of insomnia, that sprouts great reflection on the choices that I have made in my life. Wondering how many of the choices that
I have made, or will continue to make, are what I want or need, or simply what I feel is expected
of me. Not only from family and friends, but myself. How much of it is from what we are taught
is acceptable, what is desirable, what is taboo, what is sinful, what is unforgivable (heard that one quite a bit), what is important. How different our perspective would be in our adult lives depending on what rhetoric was heard as children. While I recognize, being in the place am at this time, is due to a series of personal choices....I also see that I have a propensity for conformity. Structure, multiple lists, organization, planning, follow through...all very responsible
adult actions. All the while, my inner bohemian is craving emancipation. Longing for a life away
from television (although....I would miss 'The Office'), set dinner times, and scheduled activities.
To coexist in a place of truth....allowing frailties, frustrations, kindness...and most of all, freedom from hypocrisy and pretense. I knew I should have been an artist...it would give me an excuse to have multiple housemates, and daily alfresco dinners. How delightful.
Sunday, May 24, 2009
Monday, May 11, 2009
A special day
There is nothing that I love more than being a mom. When Mother's Day comes around every year, I just can't help but feel so incredibly thankful. Thankful, and grateful feelings that lead to moments of lip quivering, sniffling, weepy, blubbering "I Luuuuv youuuuuu's", then on to "I luuu-huu-huuuuuvvvv youuuuuu soooo muuuuuch." My sweet children just sigh heavily, and give big doses of hugs
and kisses.
I just can't help it. While being a family brings with it many trials and tribulations,
the joys always outweigh the burdens. This is one of those days that is a reminder
of what gifts are present each and every day.
Now, my kids would tell me to be real about this whole thing...alright....so be it.
Let's get real. I don't wait to see if my husband and children will remember that Mother's Day is soon...I remind them all at least every other day for a full week before. I even go so far as to make specific gift requests. My husband's comment was "Why are you telling me this?? you're not MY mother." Well, now....that could be why I tend to dream that I am Clint Eastwood, toothpick in mouth....gritting teeth, with the ever present 45 magnum...while uttering the line "Do you feel lucky?....now do ya.....punk??" Ahhh, yes....that does
bring a smile to my face.
After birthing three good sized babies, my bladder isn't what is used to be. Although, I do have a friend that said I am like a camel compared to her on how long I can wait between potty breaks. It's not much, but I will take that as I have
something on another woman! The tummy is no longer firm, the "girls" are now
not quite where they used to be, and after one weekend of going green long before it was stylish...by using cloth diapers....I now refuse to babysit any child that is not
swathed in plastic. The truth is....I deserve a day of being recognized, loved, pampered... plus gifts! However, I will take the sweet homemade cards and gifts anyday over anything purchased. Oh boy....here they come again.
As I type this with tears in my eyes, I can hear my daughter impatiently calling
"Mommmmmmeeeeeeee!! I neeeed the compuuuuuter!!!!".
Oh well...the sweetness was good while it lasted!
and kisses.
I just can't help it. While being a family brings with it many trials and tribulations,
the joys always outweigh the burdens. This is one of those days that is a reminder
of what gifts are present each and every day.
Now, my kids would tell me to be real about this whole thing...alright....so be it.
Let's get real. I don't wait to see if my husband and children will remember that Mother's Day is soon...I remind them all at least every other day for a full week before. I even go so far as to make specific gift requests. My husband's comment was "Why are you telling me this?? you're not MY mother." Well, now....that could be why I tend to dream that I am Clint Eastwood, toothpick in mouth....gritting teeth, with the ever present 45 magnum...while uttering the line "Do you feel lucky?....now do ya.....punk??" Ahhh, yes....that does
bring a smile to my face.
After birthing three good sized babies, my bladder isn't what is used to be. Although, I do have a friend that said I am like a camel compared to her on how long I can wait between potty breaks. It's not much, but I will take that as I have
something on another woman! The tummy is no longer firm, the "girls" are now
not quite where they used to be, and after one weekend of going green long before it was stylish...by using cloth diapers....I now refuse to babysit any child that is not
swathed in plastic. The truth is....I deserve a day of being recognized, loved, pampered... plus gifts! However, I will take the sweet homemade cards and gifts anyday over anything purchased. Oh boy....here they come again.
As I type this with tears in my eyes, I can hear my daughter impatiently calling
"Mommmmmmeeeeeeee!! I neeeed the compuuuuuter!!!!".
Oh well...the sweetness was good while it lasted!
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
kids and cats
Funny, when I step back from my life...and look at it from outside observers standpoint, I realize that as odd as our daily family life seems to me...to someone else, it must seem downright freaky.
For example, our sleeping arrangements. My husband sleeps on the couch. Mainly because his snoring would surely cause an avalanche if he was placed on a mountain
ledge. Partly, he choose to sleep there due to waking with me baring my bicuspids with a snarling sneer while white knuckling a pillow over him. Would I have really done him in you wonder?? Why.......yes. Yes, I would..............................................................................ahhhhh, yes....to have quiet uninterrupted dreams. A woman should only have to take so much, ya know??
My children have now entered the stage of their lives that at times is so fun, and at
other times, brings out other homicidal tendencies in me. I must not realize that my voice becomes completely muted when I think I am communicating with the children. I can ask for messes to be picked up, homework be completed, laundry to be folded...and there isn't a flinch, a blink, a single movement that shows words were uttered. Hmmmm....how interesting. However, a soda can be opened, a candy wrapper ever-so-gently handled, and suddenly they have superhuman hearing that could detect a mouse tooting fifty feet away.
Then there's our pets. They are loved much, spoiled rotten, and overfed. We recently listed our house for sale, and it is cleaner than it has been in months.
Not that I really think my pets have conspired with my children to do evil deeds against their mother, but actions do speak louder than words. One of the cats
is a picky eater, and likes cat treats over the moist food. If he does not finish his treats, the other furry fatties in the house help themselves. Inevitably, the unnatural neon colors that the pet food industry places in the food for Lord knows what reason, ends up hurled in an arched projectile pattern on my white carpet. Most of the house is tile...but NOooo, they must make their way to the carpeted areas.
At this moment I am channeling the spirit of Rodney Dangerfield...."I tell ya, I get no respect....no respect at all!!"
For example, our sleeping arrangements. My husband sleeps on the couch. Mainly because his snoring would surely cause an avalanche if he was placed on a mountain
ledge. Partly, he choose to sleep there due to waking with me baring my bicuspids with a snarling sneer while white knuckling a pillow over him. Would I have really done him in you wonder?? Why.......yes. Yes, I would..............................................................................ahhhhh, yes....to have quiet uninterrupted dreams. A woman should only have to take so much, ya know??
My children have now entered the stage of their lives that at times is so fun, and at
other times, brings out other homicidal tendencies in me. I must not realize that my voice becomes completely muted when I think I am communicating with the children. I can ask for messes to be picked up, homework be completed, laundry to be folded...and there isn't a flinch, a blink, a single movement that shows words were uttered. Hmmmm....how interesting. However, a soda can be opened, a candy wrapper ever-so-gently handled, and suddenly they have superhuman hearing that could detect a mouse tooting fifty feet away.
Then there's our pets. They are loved much, spoiled rotten, and overfed. We recently listed our house for sale, and it is cleaner than it has been in months.
Not that I really think my pets have conspired with my children to do evil deeds against their mother, but actions do speak louder than words. One of the cats
is a picky eater, and likes cat treats over the moist food. If he does not finish his treats, the other furry fatties in the house help themselves. Inevitably, the unnatural neon colors that the pet food industry places in the food for Lord knows what reason, ends up hurled in an arched projectile pattern on my white carpet. Most of the house is tile...but NOooo, they must make their way to the carpeted areas.
At this moment I am channeling the spirit of Rodney Dangerfield...."I tell ya, I get no respect....no respect at all!!"
Monday, April 6, 2009
Tea for One
After getting the children to school this morning, I decided to skip the Starbuck's visit, make
a pot of coffee and get busy doing some catch up chores from the weekend. I had a nice conversation with a cheerful friend, hung up the phone and felt like an antonym of her after
a long sleepless night.
I caught a glimpse of myself while passing the dresser mirror. I actually said out loud "Now THAT is coyote ugly".....followed by "Dang". Boy...the truth hurts. Hair in a low twisted
ponytail...after having a new haircut and highlights that I feel (when I wear my glasses) makes
me look way too much like Gloria Steinem. Sans makeup, baggie sweats, and slouchy socks.
OOoooooh yeah...pure glamour. I thought, wait a minute, I love dressing up....who says I have to look like this for a day at home?? Put the mug down, threw off the paint covered sweats (yet another charming detail in the ensemble), wiggled into a pretty dress,
slid on some sassy high heels, the makeup (wow....what a difference a little paint and spackle does make), and brushed out the new 'do. I felt myself stand taller, a new swing in the step, and
proceeded to put the remaining coffee into one of my pretty china cups. Next, the ipod went
on to my twenty favorite songs...which includes everything from Andrea Bocelli to Velvet Revolver, and proceeded to fold clothes and dust my house. Granted...not practical in many
ways, but this housewife sure did feel better about myself...even if my feet hurt in the process.
a pot of coffee and get busy doing some catch up chores from the weekend. I had a nice conversation with a cheerful friend, hung up the phone and felt like an antonym of her after
a long sleepless night.
I caught a glimpse of myself while passing the dresser mirror. I actually said out loud "Now THAT is coyote ugly".....followed by "Dang". Boy...the truth hurts. Hair in a low twisted
ponytail...after having a new haircut and highlights that I feel (when I wear my glasses) makes
me look way too much like Gloria Steinem. Sans makeup, baggie sweats, and slouchy socks.
OOoooooh yeah...pure glamour. I thought, wait a minute, I love dressing up....who says I have to look like this for a day at home?? Put the mug down, threw off the paint covered sweats (yet another charming detail in the ensemble), wiggled into a pretty dress,
slid on some sassy high heels, the makeup (wow....what a difference a little paint and spackle does make), and brushed out the new 'do. I felt myself stand taller, a new swing in the step, and
proceeded to put the remaining coffee into one of my pretty china cups. Next, the ipod went
on to my twenty favorite songs...which includes everything from Andrea Bocelli to Velvet Revolver, and proceeded to fold clothes and dust my house. Granted...not practical in many
ways, but this housewife sure did feel better about myself...even if my feet hurt in the process.
Thursday, April 2, 2009
Looking for the sweet things
April brings with it such delightful things. Such as watching the little eggs of our nesting
bluebird hatch. The 5 eggs that had resembled blue peanut m&m's, are now tiny chirping fluffballs. They wait quietly while their mother ventures off for the next meal. All the while, the
daddy bluebird keeps close watch over his young. It is a sweet and tender sight to behold.
Only two weeks from the time they hatch to when they will be ready to fly away. I think to myself..."Poor little mama....too short of a time to spend with your babies."
Then, as I hear my own offspring begin to argue in the background....it brings a smile to my face as I think of a funny quote..."God gives us children, so death doesn't come as such a disappointment." Of course that's not what I feel. However...replace the word "children" with
"a spouse".....................(just kidding...)
I relish the cool breezes...the serene rustling sound as it blows through the fresh peridot colored leaves. Closing my eyes to take in a long breath, the air seems to reach more deeply into my lungs, and I feel a sense of peace.
The scent of gardenia and roses, brings fond childhood memories of family dinners on the patio.
Wonderful platters of passed down recipes. Strange how thoughts of fried chicken (proper pan-fried buttermilk chicken...thank you very much) and chow chow can evoke strong emotions.
I will enjoy the spring, and do my best to focus on the simple pleasures that surround me.
bluebird hatch. The 5 eggs that had resembled blue peanut m&m's, are now tiny chirping fluffballs. They wait quietly while their mother ventures off for the next meal. All the while, the
daddy bluebird keeps close watch over his young. It is a sweet and tender sight to behold.
Only two weeks from the time they hatch to when they will be ready to fly away. I think to myself..."Poor little mama....too short of a time to spend with your babies."
Then, as I hear my own offspring begin to argue in the background....it brings a smile to my face as I think of a funny quote..."God gives us children, so death doesn't come as such a disappointment." Of course that's not what I feel. However...replace the word "children" with
"a spouse".....................(just kidding...)
I relish the cool breezes...the serene rustling sound as it blows through the fresh peridot colored leaves. Closing my eyes to take in a long breath, the air seems to reach more deeply into my lungs, and I feel a sense of peace.
The scent of gardenia and roses, brings fond childhood memories of family dinners on the patio.
Wonderful platters of passed down recipes. Strange how thoughts of fried chicken (proper pan-fried buttermilk chicken...thank you very much) and chow chow can evoke strong emotions.
I will enjoy the spring, and do my best to focus on the simple pleasures that surround me.
Sunday, March 15, 2009
famiglia
My family had planned on taking a trip this past weekend, but with a drastic change in temps...
from the 80's to 40's, we had a change of heart.
I'll take a sundress over a sweater any day! Even with daily alterations to what had been on the
agenda, it somehow came together without any whining or whimpering.
Today, we had another change in plans
due to rain. My son wanted to make homemade buttermilk biscuits. Well...you don't have to twist my arm to bake in the kitchen. We ate a big breakfast, and got busy doing some
spring cleaning. We were like a fine tuned machine...working together, helping one another.
For whatever reason, we pretended to speak with italian accents. Rolling r's and using
emphatic hand gestures. My son heard all day how crrrrrrazy he was..."such a crrrrazy boy-a" We were absolutely cracking each other up!
I found an opportunity to play a little joke on the unsuspecting children. While removing
the feather trim from some lampshades (eww, I know...I used to think it looked pretty),
I thought....hmmmm, this will be good. The copper and black colored feathers resembled a
crumpled up hawk that had met a violent end. I noticed the house was rather hushed, so my evil
plan took shape. I quietly closed the door, then pulled up the blinds...opened a window, and
wildly bumped and banged around the room while making a few convincing squeals. One of my
daughters (apparently the only child of mine that felt concern) came running. "WHAT WAS THAT??!!" she yelled while flinging open the door. I was waiting panting with untamed hair.
"Oh my gosh...this bird flew in....and....and....AND..." then she spotted the feathers.
"OHHHH NOOOOO!!!! The poooor birdy!!!!" then just as quick realized what it was, and
what a roaring laugh we had (after shoving me I might add). She then ran to tell the others to come see what was in my room, and she gave them the same story!
Strange how a rainy day of cleaning can turn into a sweet bonding experience. The hugs were full of extra squeeze tonight.
from the 80's to 40's, we had a change of heart.
I'll take a sundress over a sweater any day! Even with daily alterations to what had been on the
agenda, it somehow came together without any whining or whimpering.
Today, we had another change in plans
due to rain. My son wanted to make homemade buttermilk biscuits. Well...you don't have to twist my arm to bake in the kitchen. We ate a big breakfast, and got busy doing some
spring cleaning. We were like a fine tuned machine...working together, helping one another.
For whatever reason, we pretended to speak with italian accents. Rolling r's and using
emphatic hand gestures. My son heard all day how crrrrrrazy he was..."such a crrrrazy boy-a" We were absolutely cracking each other up!
I found an opportunity to play a little joke on the unsuspecting children. While removing
the feather trim from some lampshades (eww, I know...I used to think it looked pretty),
I thought....hmmmm, this will be good. The copper and black colored feathers resembled a
crumpled up hawk that had met a violent end. I noticed the house was rather hushed, so my evil
plan took shape. I quietly closed the door, then pulled up the blinds...opened a window, and
wildly bumped and banged around the room while making a few convincing squeals. One of my
daughters (apparently the only child of mine that felt concern) came running. "WHAT WAS THAT??!!" she yelled while flinging open the door. I was waiting panting with untamed hair.
"Oh my gosh...this bird flew in....and....and....AND..." then she spotted the feathers.
"OHHHH NOOOOO!!!! The poooor birdy!!!!" then just as quick realized what it was, and
what a roaring laugh we had (after shoving me I might add). She then ran to tell the others to come see what was in my room, and she gave them the same story!
Strange how a rainy day of cleaning can turn into a sweet bonding experience. The hugs were full of extra squeeze tonight.
Friday, March 6, 2009
Freaky Friday
Life was as usual yesterday. Nothing out of the ordinary, except for receiving something delightful from a friend for my garden.
The alarm went off bright and early, with an old Glen Campbell song "Witchita Lineman"
playing (I do like the tune...but what the heck is that lineman still doing on the line??).
Sat up to turn off the radio, and felt a searing pain. Well...that's weird. I felt great last night,
slept pretty well...what's this? I thought I could just push through the discomfort, but it
increased to the point I became nauseous. Put a call in to the Dr., and she said those could be symptoms of a heart attack. Well for heaven's sake, I don't have time for this!! I went to an
emergency care clinic, and they felt I needed an E.K.G. and CAT scan. Are you serious?
So from there, on to the E.R. I felt crummy, but the folks in the waiting
room looked like they were in the first phase of becoming zombies. Pale, hunkered
over, and persistent moaning. 3 E.K.G's, xrays, and multiple blood draws later....I waited (in
a whole lotta pain mind you) for 3 more hours. When the results came in, I was placed in a private room. Gawwwwd....more waiting. In walks a Dr. with hands that had seen a recent
manicure...the nails were a bit too shiny for my taste. He pulled up one of those little rolling
stools, so close that our knees were touching, and his eyes were not 5 inches from my face.
Alrighty then. He looked me in the eye, and asks "Do you want to tell me how this happened?"
Um...what the heck??? Honestly, I wondered if he was with the wrong patient.
I asked about the E.K.G's (all was relatively normal) then he asks me again "How do you
think this happened? Impatiently I asked "WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?"
Get this....no heart trouble, I have a broken rib! NO idea how it could have occurred.
Good thing the hubby has been behaving himself lately...I could have caused him some
serious trouble. Believe me....there have been times I would have considered throwing my
head back in a dramatic way, sighed heavily, and said with a southern drawl "OOOOhhh Docta...why you just don't know the trouble I've seeen....Lawwwwd have merrrcy...(then depending on the looks of the Dr. place his hand on my breast)...why feel my poor little heart beating with sorrow....my husband does hurt me sooo." Tee hee.
Now I have an answer to the pain, and the prescription is a little TLC from the family, and
a darn good excuse to take it easy this weekend.
The alarm went off bright and early, with an old Glen Campbell song "Witchita Lineman"
playing (I do like the tune...but what the heck is that lineman still doing on the line??).
Sat up to turn off the radio, and felt a searing pain. Well...that's weird. I felt great last night,
slept pretty well...what's this? I thought I could just push through the discomfort, but it
increased to the point I became nauseous. Put a call in to the Dr., and she said those could be symptoms of a heart attack. Well for heaven's sake, I don't have time for this!! I went to an
emergency care clinic, and they felt I needed an E.K.G. and CAT scan. Are you serious?
So from there, on to the E.R. I felt crummy, but the folks in the waiting
room looked like they were in the first phase of becoming zombies. Pale, hunkered
over, and persistent moaning. 3 E.K.G's, xrays, and multiple blood draws later....I waited (in
a whole lotta pain mind you) for 3 more hours. When the results came in, I was placed in a private room. Gawwwwd....more waiting. In walks a Dr. with hands that had seen a recent
manicure...the nails were a bit too shiny for my taste. He pulled up one of those little rolling
stools, so close that our knees were touching, and his eyes were not 5 inches from my face.
Alrighty then. He looked me in the eye, and asks "Do you want to tell me how this happened?"
Um...what the heck??? Honestly, I wondered if he was with the wrong patient.
I asked about the E.K.G's (all was relatively normal) then he asks me again "How do you
think this happened? Impatiently I asked "WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?"
Get this....no heart trouble, I have a broken rib! NO idea how it could have occurred.
Good thing the hubby has been behaving himself lately...I could have caused him some
serious trouble. Believe me....there have been times I would have considered throwing my
head back in a dramatic way, sighed heavily, and said with a southern drawl "OOOOhhh Docta...why you just don't know the trouble I've seeen....Lawwwwd have merrrcy...(then depending on the looks of the Dr. place his hand on my breast)...why feel my poor little heart beating with sorrow....my husband does hurt me sooo." Tee hee.
Now I have an answer to the pain, and the prescription is a little TLC from the family, and
a darn good excuse to take it easy this weekend.
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