Rough Draft

It's Only Lights

I am a big fan of the outdoor lights around the house.  In fact, I love that "decoration" more than many others I do in and around my home.  Growing up my dad always put lights outside and every year of our marriage we have put lights up.  It just makes me happy.  And while we thought about putting up our twelve foot Christmas tree in the beginning of October, we hadn't thought to hang the outdoor lights.  And, also to my dismay we didn't hang a few decorations...like my stocking holder...before he left.  While I can handle simple nail-hammer-wall I can't do the dual nail hanging.  Yes, I am THAT lame.

When Larry left he said that this year we just won't have lights.  That thought seriously bummed me out.  I know it is minor in the grand scheme, but I truly enjoy the outdoor lights.  Not deterred, I told him that I could do the candy-canes lining our walkway to the front door, maybe the lights on the inside of the street-facing windows (we decided to outline those windows because our house has incredibly high roof lines and it made it impossible to decorate the entire house with lights without risking ones life), and even put lights on the pine tree in the front yard.

Yesterday it was almost 60 degrees outside.  When I drove Jennifer to her friends house there were at least fifty men outside on ladders hanging lights, house after house.  Here in Idaho we quickly learned that you put up lights whenever the weather is good (and so you see many people in early November hanging lights because it is a son of a bitch to do when there is rain and snow on the ground and 20-something degree weather, as Larry learned one year!).

Seeing all those men made me sad.  Just sad that my husband isn't here to hang our outdoor lights.  I am missing him a lot as we head into the Christmas season.  A lot. 

So yesterday afternoon I gather the boys and Josh's best friend (the backseat driver boy) and I grab the box of candy-canes.  And I call Larry.  I just had a thought...

...This past year we added weed barrier and rocks to all our landscaping, which meant I would have to move the rock out of the way and the weed barrier too in order to shove the candy-canes into the soil.  Larry was on the phone explaining how I could do it down to the last detail of laying the canes out to position them and blah blah blah...he lost me...he then suggested that it was probably best if we just skip the candy-canes this year.

Bummed.  But after a morning of coffee spilling on my brand new mini-organizer notebook because the boys couldn't get along, arguing with my oldest over his journal entries that are due on Monday, and finding used matches behind the Christmas boxes in the garage, I was DONE and willing to forgo those stupid candy-canes.

Okay.  There was still lights for the pine tree in the front and the street-facing windows.  I grab the lights from the box.  We plug them in.  Nothing works.  The boys start untangling the large strand of lights and begin plugging them into different outlets outside and in the garage and running inside to check the light switches and the the backseat driver boy is over at my fuse box when I just about startled the shit out of him when I told him to step away from the box.  Ohmygod. 

I go inside to take deep breaths realizing that the pine tree lights are most likely not going to work either but there are still the window lights...

The boys run inside shortly after my self-inflicted time-out to announce they got the lights to work.  Apparently there was a reset button that needed to be pushed.  Okay.  Whatever.  I grab the ladder and proceed to wrap, lamely, the lights with the boys helping from below.  Good times.  I miss my husband.

Then I decide to tackle the inside window lights that Larry hung up with little suction cup hooks.  I open the box.  Mass of lights and bags of suction cups stare at me.  Taunting.  I stare back in an overwhelmed, exhausted glare.  Fucking lights.

I'm back on the phone with Larry.  In a nutshell:  What the hell do I do? How the hell do I get started?  And, why am I so lame? (That was rhetorical, shut up).

He reminds me about forgoing the lights.  Tells me it isn't that important this year.  Says no one is going to care whether or not we have outside lights.  I remind him that it isn't about anyone else...I don't care what the neighbors think, I want lights because I like the outdoor lights.  Period.  He tells me to not think about the back patio lights either (shit, I wasn't even remotely considering hanging lights on our patio cover in the backyard...I'll be lucky to get the Christmas tree decorated at this point and even that won't have decorations on the very top portion because it is entirely too high for me to attempt).  I pout and say that I don't want to forgo the entire light situation.  I want the lights in the windows, at least.  He says that the lights were "measured" based on the windows, in which there would be twelve windows I would need to figure out which strand of light went where.  He also reminded me that it took him several hours to get the lights all up and working (which translates to half an day for the likes of me).

I'm beginning to feel that maybe lights on the windows are unnecessary this year along with the poor candy-canes, the patio lights, the top portion of the Christmas tree, the twelve-days of Christmas hanging and our stocking decoration.

Dammit.

I close the box of mangled lights and bags of suction cups totally defeated.  Sad.  Bummed. Disappointed.  Alone.  But, on the flip side the one little pine tree in our front yard is covered in white lights.  Whoopdedoo.  Larry then explained where I could find a timer thingy that could be hooked up and then I can control the lights from inside the house or I could set up the timer thingy to go on automatically when the sun goes down and turn off when the sun comes up.  At that point I told him I didn't want to hear anything further about timers and lights and fucking candy-canes.  Bah Humbug.

Because I am a glutton for punishment I figure I will just do other decorating.  I grab the box that had three large red bows for our outdoor garage lights.  I couldn't reach the place to tie them without getting out the ladder again or the step stool and I put the bows back in the garage frustrated with myself. 

I figure, inside decorating I can handle.  So, I open the box of the lighted garland we use in the living room/dining room in this house and that also looked like a mangled mess of green and more friggin lights and I closed that box too.  Ugh.

I decide to just clean the downstairs.  That is something that doesn't require a phone call to my husband.  I start in the back of the house with the guest bedroom/bathroom.  I don't get very far until that bums me out because here I have this great guest bedroom with an attached bathroom and it hasn't seen the likes of guests in years.

By the end of the day, half opened Christmas boxes lay scattered in the garage...one lone pine tree has lights outside...my hallway is filled with decorations and cleaning supplies left for a better time...my guest bedroom and bathroom are cleaned but not completely decorated...my laundry room has a box full of decorations sitting on the island ready to go somewhere...and I shared horrific stories of houses burning down with my son.

Not the great happy little holiday progress I had hoped to make yesterday.  And despite the ham I was cooking in the oven, the joy of the holiday spirit was seriously lacking. 

I decided to sit down and call it a night with a nice glass of wine...and ordered our Christmas cards...which may turn out to be like a bad scene from Seinfeld...which I didn't notice until after I had pushed the order button.  Crap.  Is it January yet?  Perhaps I shouldn't have attempted to lift heavy machinery after the long frustrating day and the glass of wine.

Black, Red, And Barbie Pink

Most people who know me know that I hate shopping.  Always have....even as a Jordache-Jean-Loving-Teenager.  My mom, therefore, did almost all my shopping growing up.  I have always liked the "yeah just go and pick out whatever you think looks good" philosophy.

And because of my dislike of all things relating to "shopping" I have never been good at it.  I can't seem to get killer deals or find smokin hot items at a great price.  Sale racks do nothing for me. 

Larry and I always start the holiday shopping with what we call a soft budget.  Sure, we TRY to stick within but we always end up finding SO many things that we know our kids would love and some things they need and off the roller coaster we go, crashing into the clown at the amusement park...

This year was destined to be different.  Loss of job.  Move across the country.  Cobra.  Dual residencies.  Plus, daily living and bills and dentist appointments and after about five months of nothing coming in and everything going out, I was done spending money.

Of course, being done spending money at the beginning of the holidays does not necessarily work well.

So, we sat down and figured out how different our holidays were going to be...informing the kids that they are not going to get every single thing on their lists (they don't anyway), and how we could determine a budget and stick to it.

In the end I don't think anyone will feel like we jipped ole St. Nick out of the holidays.  In fact, it has been more fun.  Thinking of ways to do things and buy gifts without spending a ton of money (and doesn't give ME a long list of to-do crafting, which I couldn't do this year...I'm doing what I like to consider a "normal" amount of handmade but not overly nutty-staying-up-until-two-AM-to-get-it-all-finished!).  And, along the same lines, I put together a calendar for the month of December of things that me and the kids can go and do that does not break the bank and will in return double our holiday spirit.

Yesterday was the first time I have EVER ventured out on this crazy-ass-black-Friday bullshit since I was a teenager going with my mom to Stat's in Pasadena (that apparently used to have incredible deals at 5am).

I have always thought about going out but never could get my ass out the door that early nor the desire to get up early AND shop.  With millions of other deal-hungry people.  And traffic.  And parking nightmares.  And carrying bags and bags of gifts.  Ugh.  No thanks.  Plus, since moving to Idaho it seemed every year beginning in 2004 the day after Thanksgiving has been a little on the dicey side, in terms of weather.  Yesterday was sunny, blue-skied, and fifty degrees.  In another words, weather I could drive in.

This was one reason I enjoy the Internet so much.  I would go through catalogs, dog-earing as I go, and then sharing the finds with Larry and together we would order our goods, enjoying a glass of wine, of course.  It was fast.  It was simple.  It was less hectic.  It was less stressful.  It was easy.  However, after yesterday, I may have a slight change of heart.  Do I dare admit that I kinda liked going out and shopping like that? Especially delightful is the fact that I got 98% of all I needed to accomplish done in just a few hours. It was good.  Really, really good. 

Now, why I decided to head out on my first ever day after Thanksgiving black Friday in over twenty years...the same year that my husband isn't around...is beyond me.  Thankfully, Corinna's husband Dave offered to watch all three (God Speed) kids and the two of us set out around 7am (I still only got about 5 hours of sleep but coffee cures all for at least six hours I discovered) with no real game plan to speak of other than a budget, a debit card, plenty of coffee, shared bread, laughter, and girlfriend time spent among half of Boise.

We hit one store and got some REALLY good sales.  I was excited over how much I got for so little.  The second store we went to, Toys R Us, the prices were not that great and while Corinna didn't have much  need for a "OH-MY-GOD-WE-ARE-REALLY-GOING-TO-THE-TOY-STORE-TODAY??!?!?" I sure did.  However, the sales were so-so at best despite the hundreds of frenzied parents milling about.  I did find a couple of really good deals. 1. A mis-priced High School Musical Barbie-on-steroids-type-doll that the manager happily gave me the VERY low listed price, despite it being way mis-marked.  2.  Stuffed animals (that my daughter is going to LOVE!) that were also mis-marked at 50% off when they weren't supposed to be discounted at all.  This was in addition to several items in other stores that I got 20%, 50%, and 60% off.  But, to get out of the toy store for as little as I did, with a basket full of goodies, AND managing to find exactly what I was looking for (even the crazy Jungle In The Pocket thing and is that a giraffe in your pocket or are you just happy to see me? What the hell are the kids asking for these days?) without breaking the bank OR going overboard...priceless.  I think I was almost giddy after that experience.

We did try the mall but couldn't find parking and between the two of us and our combined dislike and disgust for the M.A.L.L. we opted to go elsewhere and save our sanity.

A couple more stores and a quick lunch later and I was finished.  I have a few minor stocking stuffers to pick up (which I don't even have to technically do since Larry called me this morning and said he has found a few little items for the kids on his end...excellent) and wrapping paper for each kids Santa gift.  That's it.  Done.  And, I didn't order one thing online.

This years main theme has been SIMPLIFY.  I have totally overhauled what I normally do for the holidays and simplified EVERYTHING.  I don't have a mile long to-do list.  In fact, my to-do list has so few items on it, it doesn't look anything like December at all.  I'm not overbooking or saying yes to everybody.  I am determined to not only spend less this holiday but to do less too.  And, I don't feel frazzled or harried at the moment.  I feel calm and happy and good about my adventures yesterday.

At the end of the day yesterday I came in UNDER budget.  I was elated!  I felt I did a good job with the gift selection.  I felt happy that I didn't go crazy.  Didn't spend a ton.  And hopefully at the end of the day and the wrapping paper is in a heap in the corner, everyone will be happy and joyful and have had a really nice season.

Dog Tales

I love my dog.  I really do.  She has kept me company like I never would have imagined during this time in my life.  She is sweet and cuddly and follows me endlessly.

However.

She is driving me slowly bat shit crazy.

Poor thing.  She just wants to be close at night.  I get that.  But, dammit, I need my sleep.

Yes, yes, I am one of those people who allow their dogs to sleep on the bed.  And in Bridget's case I let her burrow under the comforter.  Which is totally fine.   Well, was totally fine.

You see before Larry left I could just shove her towards him and that worked and Larry didn't seem to mind the dog practically laying on top of his feet.  But now that he is no longer here, she is on me.

I can't sleep like that.

I need my feet free.  It is a thing of mine. I can't even wear socks to bed.  I like to move my legs and I don't like my legs/feet to feel confined in any shape or form.  In fact, I can't sleep in sleeping bags either.  I don't like that feeling.

And Bridget is at my feet every fucking night.  I wake up at least four times a night.  Twist, turn, find some contorted way in which to sleep.  Can't.  Irritated.  I move her.  I kick her to the other side.  I force her onto her own damn pillow in the corner of the bedroom.  Nothing works.

The irony here is that I never had any issues with any of my three children sleeping in my bed.  Ever.  My kids have all been amazingly great sleepers.  In their own beds.  Now, I have a damn dog in my bed.  Ugh.

It was suggested that perhaps she sleep in Josh's room.  This is a very good suggestion and one that is at the top of my list.  Josh is the first up and he feeds her breakfast anyway, so that would work well and he would love it.  However, in a sick, lonely, controlling way I would miss her with me at night (I know, I'm fickled at best).  And, the bigger issue is then it would cause a ripple effect of problems with the other two kids.   Honestly, I can do without more angst and "challenges" and issues in which it is me discussing crap with my ever so happy children.

Then, it was kindly hinted that maybe my bedroom is too cold and the poor dog and all her short hair goodness is downright COLD.  Okay, I will give you that.  It is downright cold upstairs.  But, here is the thing.  It is the same issue as the can't-wear-socks-to-bed:  I.  Cannot. Sleep. With. The. Heater. On. Period.  Can't.  Nope.  No matter how bloody cold it gets (and my bedroom registers somewhere between 51 and 59 degrees depending on how below freezing it gets outside) I like it cold (until I wake up and then I will admit it is kinda on the nippy side) and I hate waking up feeling hot.  Ugh.  But, in attempts to sort of test the theory I did leave the "heater" on at 61 degrees upstairs, just to see.

It hit me that Bridget has a love affair with all things blankets.  Especially the crocheted ones my mom makes, which by the way, makes her oh so fucking happy to know that the dog is sleeping on all her handiwork.  Anyway, I thought maybe I could solve this dilemma of the dog sleeping at my feet if I put a blanket on top of the comforter...on Larry's side of the bed.

And, when I went to bed last night, it seemed to work.  She worked that blanket until it was just so and plopped down.

Excellent.  Oh my happy legs/feet fell asleep quickly and happily.  At last.

Until I woke up around midnight to the feeling of the dog moving the motherbleeping blanket from Larry's side of the bed to MY side of the bed, and more specifically, to my feet area.

Oh. My. God.

Crap. Shit. Fuck.

I literally get up and move her and the blanket back to Larry's side.  And go back to sleep.

Then, I wake up again around 2ish with Bridget nudging near my face to make her way under my comforter.

Ugh.

She was once again at my feet.

And I Could. Not. Go. Back. To. Sleep.

Then, another thought hit me (I know amazing).

Why hadn't I thought of this sooner?  Of course, it pisses me off to be displaced in my own damn bed!  But, I am tired and more tired of waking up half dozen times in the middle of the night.

I moved my pillow over to Larry's side.  I know.  Duh.  I quickly fell asleep with free legs/feet.  Happy once again despite the oddities of being on his side which just felt wrong.

I woke up again when the damn dog moved herself over to Larry's side.  Oh holy hell, are you fucking kidding me dog?  I'm ready to put her cute long-eared-ass back in the crate at night.

I moved back to my own side.  She followed.  I gave up.  The alarm sounded and I wondered why my cell phone was ringing.  I'm tired.  Dammit.  Damn dog.

I really don't know what to do.  I need my sleep.  And I need my legs/feet FREE and without the dog's nose on my leg when she literally refuses to move when I try and wiggle myself free.

Help.

I Am Thankful...

...that my suburban was in desperate need of gas because i got to fill it up at 1.89 a gallon and i'm pretty sure i haven't seen prices that low since josh was in diapers admiring the purple dinosaur.  in fact, it took less than the cut-off point of my debit card to fill the truck up...how freakin fantastic is that?! this has been the first time in YEARS that i was giddy about getting gas!

...that my husband has a job and that he has made many sacrifices and is hard working and loves what he does and loves his job...that our marriage is full of trust, fun, laughter, and love...and despite his challenges over paying too much for ground beef (don't ask), he is a great person who is smart, funny, never lazy, and extremely thoughtful and caring.

...that my children are healthy and happy and overall good kids.  they remind me that i don't need an alarm clock, that i perhaps should have started a bit earlier in this parenting thing because damn i feel old sometimes, and that coffee and wine should be separate food groups.

...that i have a warm home to live in; a dog who prefers my pillow (ugh); and enough food in my house to feed the neighborhood until valentine's day.

...that while grief and sadness and anxiety sometimes flocks my world, i am continually able to learn and grow and recognize that life is naturally full of both ups and downs, good and bad, happy and sad and all those moments and emotions are what makes life worth living.

Happy Thanksgiving!

THANK YOU

Thank you to everyone who has left comments here on my blog and who have sent me emails.  I am overwhelmed by your kindness and thoughtfulness towards my family and my husband!  And if you didn't get a chance to send my husband a holiday message, it is not to late! Please continue to do so!

He went from having no one to celebrate with and was forced to spend the holiday alone, which broke my heart, to having two invites.

Yes, TWO!

My cousin Karin contacted her sister 45-miles outside of Philadelphia and invited Larry to join them with her family.  So, so sweet! Seriously Karin...thank you so much! You have been amazing to me during this time and I want you to know that I really appreciate all your kind words.

At work today a fellow engineer stopped Larry and invited him to join his family tomorrow.  Larry doesn't obviously know much about this man other than he was kind enough to reach out and invite a married man who happens to be living some two thousand miles away from his own family at the moment.  On his way home from work he stopped and bought a bottle of wine to bring with him...

When I talked to Larry today and he shared his invite and I told him about Karin's invite, his voice changed.  There was grateful happiness in his voice.  A spring in his step, if you will.  Made me feel so good to hear him not so down about the holidays.  He was very excited that he was not going to be eating a little turkey breast alone in his apartment but the whole big spread in a house filled with people.  (Still odd that my husband will be at someones house that I have never met, with his parents and sister and children while we are all here doing what we have done for the last five Thanksgivings...but, such is life at the moment.) 

I'm grateful for so much.  And for tonight, I'm grateful to all of you kind people and I'm grateful that my husband will have Thanksgiving surrounded by new friends and more importantly, not alone.  And while I miss him beyond words, I'm grateful that today my husband has a good job.

Grateful.  And thankful.  You all rock.

Thanksgiving Comes In View (be sure to see my humble request at the end of the post)

What a strange year this has turned out to be.  I won't say that I am anxious for 2009 because I am not a believer that by changing the calendar we will miraculously have in our hot little hands, the perfect year.  And, I won't say this past year has been truly the worst ever, because it hasn't been...and next year I'm sure will be filled with more challenges, sadness, and excitement.  But, who knows really?  I sure don't.  I'm only trying to live for the moment and be grateful that I still have a roof over my head, my kids are healthy and for the most part happy (unless I am asking them to re-brush their teeth, that always ignites super fun times), and my husband has a job as we end 2008.

This will be the first Thanksgiving in my forty-two years that I have not been with either my parents or my husband (or in many years, both).

And it isn't proving to be very easy.  (I'm very sad).

And when I talk to my husband, it is usually me that he is sympathizing with.  How difficult it is to be alone ALL THE TIME with the kids, the dog, and this house.  The long list of things that need to be done on a seemingly endless basis and I'm basically the only one doing them.  He listens to me rant.  He calms me when I'm in tears.  He talks to our children and reminds them on a daily basis to do their best (and go easy on their mother).  He understands the sacrifices our entire family are making.

But, what I haven't mentioned here is how hard it is on him.

(And unlike me, he doesn't dwell or complain.)

He went from our big, warm home with an awesome walk-in shower and a comfy couch to a one-bedroom apartment and a 70s inspired bathtub.  He is far from comfortable.  He has the basics.  A warm place to live.  A bed.  A chair.  A table.  A couple of lamps.  Plenty of blankets.  His computer with Internet.  Cable.  Lots of sports to watch.  A kitchen with basic cooking supplies.  And, since the east coast is encountering winter a few weeks early he also doesn't have a garage to keep his car toasty in the mornings and is now required to scrape ice off his windshield and wait several minutes until his car is warm.

He is working hard (and absolutely loving his job and ensures me that he has never been this busy in any of his past jobs before and yet I still find it hard to stop holding my breath).  He is cooking for one.  He is bored on the weekends (this part I don't really want to know and I tell him to shut the hell up regularly).  He comes home to an empty, quiet apartment every night.

He is lonely.

We are lonely.

We miss him terribly and he misses us terribly.  We are all doing what we need to do and grateful as hell that he has found this wonderful job.  We are not trying to think too far in advance (but I admit, my mind does wander down that road from time to time).  But, in reality, we are lonely...this situation sucks...and it is hard.

Especially now.

Especially for him. 

I will have my kids and family and friends on Thanksgiving.  And while I have received a total of seven invitations for Thanksgiving...

...He will have no one.

He will be alone.  Opting for a turkey breast instead of one big ole bird.  He will cook his family's tradition of lima beans and corn and I'm not sure what else he has in mind since he isn't a fan of stuffing unless it is my mom's...her stuffing is really the absolute best I have ever tasted and the only stuffing he will eat.

The thought of him sitting in his apartment, two thousand miles away from everyone he knows, alone, breaks my heart and is making the spirit of the holidays very difficult for me.   

Some have commented to me that maybe he would be invited by someone he works with.  The reality is that he has only been at his job for just barely a month.  His boss is leaving town for Thanksgiving...and the other engineers in his department he is just getting to know and said they have been too busy to have many opportunities for small talk.

No, he will be alone.

I know I have many people that read my blog and do not comment.  And that is totally fine. I'm glad so many of you stop by.  However, I would love to send my husband a host of well wishes and warm holiday thoughts his way on a day when he will be otherwise quite alone and maybe these wishes from you will brighten his day...it would certainly brighten mine knowing that so many people are thinking about him.  (My comments are set up where you don't even have to leave any information, just a name or be anonymous, if you want.) 

I would really appreciate it and be quite grateful too.  Thank you from the bottom of my heart.

Reading And Books, Part Two

In late spring I read a book that involved a very creative book club.  It got me thinking.  It sounded like fun and something that I have been wanting to do for ages!  So, I emailed some friends and asked if anyone would be interested in starting a book club if I put it together.  The response was great! We have a group of about eleven women and still growing!

So far, we have met twice.  The first month was at my house and we read a very good book called The Lace Reader.  Despite the fact that the meeting was held one day after my husband left for his journey to Pennsylvania and I was reading this book while helping him pack up, we ended up having a great first meeting!  Since the book dealt with characters who could read lace I opted for a tea party theme.  I even started a tradition of stitching a tea towel to raffle off to the members present each month!!  The first month was Sherlock Holmes (I also plan to stitch Harry Potter, Scarlett O'Hara and Rhett Butler in upcoming months).

Every month a different member picks the book we will read and host the meeting.  This past month was at Pam's and what fun we had discussing The Lucky One by Nicholas Sparks!      

So far it has been truly a fun thing. 
I have met new people. 
I have been exposed to books I might not normally gravitate towards.
It is a night away with adults and sometimes wine and that is always a good combination.
Sitting around talking about books, seriously, nothing better!

I am so glad that I decided to just go for it.  To start this book club.  To get together with friends and enjoy reading the same book once a month.  I am really enjoying myself...

Now, in case you missed this in my last post...so far I have about half dozen responses...tell me your top, most favorite book ever...your five star gem.  I want to make a list of all my friends favorite books and read as many as I can.  Drop me an email if you don't want to leave a comment here for whatever reason.

I am off to read...

Oh My

Scene:  Josh, Harrison and Zach are in the family room late in the afternoon playing the Wii game, Cooking Mama.  I am sitting nearby doing some stitching and while I am not "watching" them play, I am certainly within earshot of listening to them.  Outside it is raining with some flurries that aren't sticking, but that is neither here nor there and does not relate to this story.

Conversation:
Boy A:  "You put it in!"
Boy B:  "I know but how?!"
Boy B:  "I have to get it up first!"

As Close To Normal As It Is Going To Get

Yesterday the skies opened up and the sun shined brightly and the stars aligned just perfectly and somewhere in this little town a prayer of mine was answered and not for one second did I not kiss the very ground I walk on and thank the Good Lord above.

For one short day.  A few short hours.  I felt like normal.  And, by normal I mean how it feels to have a chance to breathe without talking to children, working on homework with children, cleaning for children, cooking for children.  Don't get me wrong.  I'm not complaining about my job as mom.  At all.  It has just taken on a new never-ending-cycle-of-ongoing-climbing-Mt. Everest sort of feel.

You see, I am blessed with one of those husbands who looks for ways to make his wife happy.  And that means that mom gets some time off once in awhile.  To escape the four walls and three bickering children.  To be creative and expressive.  To have a chance to regroup, de-stress, and talk with grown-ups.  It is important to who I am.  And I'm not ashamed to admit that I need it.  I need the escape.  And not only was I used to my husband cooking for my kids on Friday nights and keeping them entertained and sometimes out of the house...it also gave me the chance to escape into my creative neverland.  I loved it.  I mourn it now.  And, I miss it.

However, yesterday was different.

It started with Josh.  He called me from the dance and asked if he could go to a friends house for a sleepover.  Larry always tells me that I have to pause a bit before I jump to agree to having my children go to friends houses.  So, I paused.  Told him we would discuss when he got back and I had a chance to talk to the friends parent.  In the end, and with sufficient good-parental pausing, I agreed and dropped him off.  I didn't act giddy until I was well from the sight of the house. I do have tact, after all.

Then, Harrison.  We had a chance to talk, just him and I, when he got home from school.  He then told me that he was expecting his best friend to call him any minute.  While on the phone with Zach I hear, "let me ask my mom".  That step is really unnecessary, but I did my best at pausing.  Yes, he can have dinner and a sleepover.  (Thank You God).  Then, "let me ask my mom".  Apparently he wanted to go to Zach's basketball game on Saturday too.  Yes, that would be fine.

Two down.

I was blissfully happy with that.  I figured with only Jennifer, it was as close as I was going to get.

Until.

Jennifer called from her little friends house up the street.  Can she watch a movie and have dinner with them?  Pause.  Talk to parent.  Pause.  Agree.  Jump up and down.  Calm the dog who thinks I have completely lost it in happyville.

And, in true seven-year old tackiness that only little children can acceptably get away with...I had told Jennifer to call me when the movie was over and I would walk up the street to meet her and walk her home.  She called.  Movie was ended.  I told her I would go outside.  She tells me to hold on and asks the dad, "are you guys having dessert?"  Apparently they were and she was asked to stay and have ice cream and promptly hung up the phone.

By the time she came home it was basically time for her to go to  bed, which she did, effortlessly.  

Meanwhile, mom and her friends had a stitchy-bitchy good time watching chick-flicks and one not so "chick flick" wannabe X-rated movie and yet carefully still hold onto an R rating.  Note to self: give Bucket another duty on Friday nights!!!  Needless to say, we had a great time and watched three movies and stitched away...and despite the fact that I didn't get to sleep until late and by 9am not only did the dog demand to go outside, but the phone was already ringing and another little friend of Jennifer's asked if she could come over...I don't feel terribly tired.  

I feel, do I dare say, refreshed?

There has been no bickering among the little people.  There has been no video game sounds.  I got to take a break from being mom.  No one needed me, more or less, for an evening.  I got to unplug and regroup and breathe.

And for right now, I will take chances like that to feel like things are normal in my world still.  And thank God for answering my (what seems like constant) prayer for a break and peace and strength and patience... 

We Didn't Dress Like That, Did We?

Josh informed me that his dance after school today was an "80s" theme.

Really?

Kids today are dressing like the 80s as part of a "theme" dance?  Somehow that makes me feel strangely old and while fun to watch the young middle schoolers mock us 80s-folk, it just felt wrong.

So Josh asks me what he can wear?

Hmmm.  I don't know.  I never considered my daily wardrobe as costume potential.

All I could think of was the Madonna-Dress-Like-An-Over-Bangled-Bra-On-The-Outside-Of-Your-Torn-Lace-Shirt-Whore, leg-warmers-a-la-Flashdance, the "preppy" look, and florescent items.  Was there more?

We decide to head up to his closet for inspiration.

And all I found was an Izod shirt he hates but wore because I insisted that we wore those, of course, ours had a little green alligator over the left breast.  He didn't look like anything of the 80s...but kind of hard to give a boy big hair and a Madonna wardrobe.

When we pulled up to school him and his friend (the backseat driver) were admiring all the kids "dressed like the 80s".  Although the sun wasn't out yet I strained to see what was so unique and 80s-like.  They looked like they do everyday.

Josh:  "Mom, look at her..."
Me:  "We didn't wear flip-flops in the 80s to school."
Sigh from the two teenagers.
Me:  "What?"

I apparently didn't "get it".  And maybe the people that grew up in the 70s didn't appreciate all of us having a bitchen time with our afro wigs, polyester suits, bell-bottoms, and flashy-awful-big-flowered shirts, dancing like freaks to Disco... 

...Now that was an era you could dress around. 

But, the 80s just seem normal.