I’m 44 today. Sometimes I fall off of the earth for a while but always make it back. I think it’s good to do that once in a while. I’m genuine and kind. I’m realistic and can’t handle drama. It makes me nervous.
I have expensive purses but wear a backpack from Target instead. I have good kids, well they aren’t felons, and I wear $6 sunglasses. I’m a very loyal friend and I have a work ethic we don’t see much anymore. I married my high school sweetheart and I still love him to pieces even though we are complete opposites and I want to kill him when he snores. I go to church. I go to bed really early. I do laundry every day and never sort it first. Occasionally I drop F-bombs but mostly I say things that sound like real curse words, but aren’t.
I have wrinkles and cellulite. I don’t know how to use filters but somehow my phone does and I’m grateful. I like to write but found people don’t like to read anymore so occasionally I make a funny meme and post it. I’d love to make some kind of living through my writing someday. I always wanted to be an anesthesiologist or a writer and stand-up comedian but decided to clean teeth instead. I believe in working hard for what I have or I don’t want it. I love my job and I’m really good at it.
On the day I die I’ll complain that I need to lose 10 pounds. I love animals and when I talk to them, I speak in a language that even I don’t understand. I don’t have a lot of friends (on purpose) but I cherish the few I have. I have no sense of direction and a really clean microwave.
One of my longtime friends told me that social media is just the highlight reel of people’s lives and she was right. Once you realize that life is easier.
I’ve been writing for many years about my life and have enjoyed making people laugh at the crazy things that happen to me on a daily basis. I love to write. I love my family, friends, community, my job and naps. My best friend is a Labrador Retriever. All of those things make me who I am and inspire my writing. Trust me, every day is an adventure and I trust in Jesus to help me make the right choices. He has his hands full with me but I do my best. I just couldn’t make this stuff up. I am a magnet for strange situations. So why start a blog now? I have no idea. It’s more fun than cleaning my house, which I should be doing right now.
I don’t think you can every fully prepare yourself for when your kids leave the house. It’s our second one. It should be easier but it isn’t. My son was different. I knew he’d say goodbye when we dropped him off at college and never look back. He did that the first day of kindergarten at 4 years-old. Why would he be any different at 17? He wasn’t. I was sad then knowing that he’d most likely never live at home again. Three years later and I think there are more sightings of Sasquatch then there are of him. I miss him.
Dropping our daughter off yesterday was hard. We raised all of our kids the same but they are so different from each other. She’s 18 but it seems like yesterday she was a 3 pound preemie that I held in the palm of my hand. I miss her already. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to let her go yet. Did we prepare her enough to be on her own? I read a blog post from a mom giving advice to her daughter as she left for college and got to thinking about what I would say to mine when it was time to say goodbye
Get in a routine. Floss. Always know how to get home from wherever you are. Bring a sweater to class. Empty the water from the steamer after you use it. Pray. Float the river before it gets too cold. Look for the good in people. Call your mom. Study hard but make time for fun. Be the designated driver. Don’t try to pet the geese on campus. Remember who you are and what you believe in. Charge your phone. Nothing good happens after midnight. Check on your little sister every once in a while. Locals pronounce Boise, Boy-See. The dollar menu is your new best friend. Stay true to your values. Don’t wear flip-flops when it’s icy. Don’t watch a scary movie before bed. Carry your Hydroflask everywhere you go in case you are thirsty or need to break someone’s knees. Sonic has the best ice. Check your oil. Remember that we are always here for you. Most importantly, enjoy these years, they will fly by.
The 24th anniversary isn’t a milestone, maybe it’s the Top Ramen anniversary, who knows. Sometimes that’s all we had in the pantry and other times there was steak on the grill. All I know is almost a quarter of a century ago we began an adventure and had no idea what we were doing. Maybe we still don’t. We were babies. We moved across the country and lived the military life in Virginia, then moved to North Carolina and Georgia before returning to California. The Navy was good to us, God has been even better. We both have almost died more than once which makes for good stories I wish we weren’t able to tell. We have 3 pretty cool kids that I hope haven’t been distracted too much by the crazy world we live in. We’ve traveled, worked hard, and laughed a lot. Maybe too much. We are probably offensive to some, but we are OK with that. It’s who we are. We’ve hiked the Grand Canyon and explored parts of islands where pirates once hid, but mostly we just stay home. We have nothing and everything in common. We are both a lot. We are crazy and we love each other. It works. Life is a beautiful ride and the occasional flat tire just adds to the adventure. Cheers to forever my Love!
Body by Oreo and long dog walks. I’ll either be ready for a marathon or My 600lb Life at the end of this. Only time will tell. I run a lot. I eat a lot. I’ve been a faithful ketoer but lately have been cheating too much and having to start over frequently. Either way, any picture taken during these times can eventually be used as a “before” picture. I don’t take the seriousness of the situation lightly. I just cope with humor. We have food, our health, and more time together than we’ve had in years. My dog thinks he won the lottery. My cat wants to move out. My son is home from college which is a rarity and I’m trying to convince him to stay all quarter. Not with my cooking though, because that still sucks. He’s a super-slob but, deep breath, I’m learning to let it go. The only time I can turn off my phone at night is when all of my kids are home and it feels so good! My kids are happy and learning life skills daily. Yesterday they learned to weld and address and stamp a letter. A few days ago they changed the shocks on a car and baked cupcakes although my son put pulled pork in the middle of one of them. I had to tell him that it wasn’t a keto cupcake, he called it a meatcake. He’s weird. Being out of work is scary and depressing. I miss my co-workers and my patients but I’ll never get this time with my kids again. We are healthy, we are the lucky ones. So TGIF, or whatever. No one cares.
I decided to have a dinner party tonight. No one is invited. I’ll bring out the good dishes, which are gently used paper plates, and whatever utensils are clean. I can’t find any spoons so I won’t be serving soup. Also, I don’t have any soup. No one does. The kitchen table is covered with board games and a half completed 1000 piece puzzle so we will be eating standing up leaning against the walls. The floor is scattered with tossed Monopoly game pieces after a particularly intense game last night, so watch your step, the Scotty dog has sharp edges. I still haven’t decided what to cook for dinner and will be selecting what ingredients I have left at random, setting a timer and seeing what I come up with, just like an episode of Chopped. Bring Tums. I’ve made slightly expired cupcakes for dessert and you can save the wrapper should you need to use the bathroom since we are out of toilet paper. Don’t mind the mess. I actually clean every day but it doesn’t matter. The mess comes back doubled. My iRobot quit and I’m thinking of going with him. Also, the house smells a bit like boredom and adolescence but I have my candles working overtime to try and combat the stink. In an effort to look my best tonight to impress no one, I decided to dye my hair. Since it has been so long, I had to dunk my whole head in a vat of dye like I was bobbing for apples. My hairline looks like Dracula now but no grays, so that’s a win. I’m also planning on wearing my “good sweats” and possibly a bra. I’m so excited to have something to look forward too as I have already watched too many disturbing documentaries on Netflix and every episode of The Golden Girls twice. Oh that Blanche just kills me. It’s going to be a great time. Please RSVP with how many of you will not be coming to the party, so I can plan accordingly. I can’t wait to not see everyone!
I’m currently in a DietBet. It’s an app, you can look it up later. So for this bet I pledged $25 to lose 4 percent of my body weight in 4 weeks, with weigh-in being today. Everyone that chose this same bet put their money in a pot. If I lose the weight I get my money back plus I get to split the money from the people that couldn’t lose the weight. Losers. Easy right? Totally. I’ve done this a bunch of times. The one catch is that you can’t lose too much weight or you won’t get your money back because DietBet encourages you to lose the weight in a healthy way and blah blah blah. For the last 4 weeks I’ve been really good and was actually a little underweight. Until this morning. Dang if I wasn’t 3 pounds more than I was last night. TMI coming your way. Seriously just scroll on unless you want to hear about my morning that you will most likely regret reading about. So here goes, don’t say I didn’t warn you. I didn’t want to lose my money and I totally wanted to take a piece of the Losers money too so I had to figure out how to cut 3 pounds quickly. I found some 12 year old suppositories that I must’ve gotten after my last c-section. Perfect. I used one and whoa that’s gross and waited to see what would happen. I thought it was so old it probably wouldn’t work. Well it did. I spent hours on the toilet. Stuff I ate in the 90’s came out of me. I cancelled plans that I have 2 weeks from now because I’m not sure how this will play out. Long story short, yes I lost the weight I needed to lose, no I won’t be leaving the house anytime soon. I felt a little bit like a cheater but seriously I’ve worked so hard over the last month. I deserved to win this bet. It was worth the pain. I finally opened the app to log in my weight and the jokes on me since I don’t have to weigh-in until Tuesday. Awesome.
I’ll never be Mom of the Year which is fine because it seems like a lot of work and pretty much impossible since at the moment I don’t even know where two of my three kids are. I’d rather be known as Mom of the Right Now. I’m not the wait in line for 2 days and throat punch someone to get the last Tickle-Me-Elmo kind of mom but I have held a funeral for a bearded dragon and spent an entire night walking around outside searching for a missing cat. I’ve chased down runaway baby chicks with a pool net while the mama chicken tried to kill me and been knocked off of my feet by a baseball to the head while playing catch. I’ve been to the ER, the scene of a roll-over car accident my son was in, also watched him ride a bull, and relocated a 3 year olds Nurse Maids elbow, without freaking out. I might not have a home cooked meal on the table each night but my family never goes hungry. Neither have the horses, pigs, chickens, turkeys, dogs, cats, and reptiles that have lived at our house. I can mod podge stuff and paint foam balls to make them look like planets, at midnight. I’ve been a Girl Scout Leader and the Cookie Mom and don’t even get me started on all of the time I volunteered on the PTA. For years my weekends have been consumed by sports and driving endless miles at the crack of dawn to get to events. I might have permanent marks from metal bleacher seats and irreversible skin damage to prove it. I’ve watched numerous school plays, dance recitals, tennis matches, baseball games, and karate classes. Traveled miles, once by airplane, to water polo, soccer, and softball tournaments, and sat through hours of blistering hot swim meets just to watch my kids swim for about a minute. I’ve done my share of snack bar shifts, fundraisers, carpools, and team mom duty all while keeping a full-time job, and I’ve loved every minute of it. There are so many single moments of mom greatness in the relatively short time that our kids are actually young that go unnoticed. I can’t say that I’m a great mom all year long but I am great Right Now a lot. Yeah, I totally mom the heck out of the Right Now.
My son isn’t coming home from college for the summer so we decided to take a trip to see him and bring home anything he wouldn’t need for the next few months. He lives in an apartment on campus and will have to move out in a few weeks once the spring quarter is over. Since he has a car this year, we didn’t move him in like we did when he was a freshman and lived in the dorms. This was our first time seeing his apartment. The building is pretty new and looks like any other apartment complex except there are signs in the elevator teaching them how to deal with a pesky roommate, signs in the hallway about what to do if your friend is super drunk, and a billboard outside the laundry room reminding them about the dangers of chlamydia. My son is kind of messy but I hadn’t really worried about him this year because the apartment was expensive but worth it. The laundry is free and they have a housekeeper come in regularly. How bad could it be? I walked into his 4th floor apartment that he shares with 3 other guys and stopped in my tracks. The units are set up like this. There are 4 bedrooms and 2 bathrooms with a small kitchen and living area. The front door leads right into the kitchen. At this point I had only seen the kitchen, which left me stunned in disbelief. I thought for sure I would get pink eye. At the very least I had the creeps. The place was gross. Period. I had a look of horror on my face that I was afraid might become permanent if I stayed in there too long. I turned to look at my husband with my eyes wide and my mouth dropped open. I was speechless. He just shook his head. The sink was full of dirty dishes. The counters permeated with dried food and unidentifiable stains. The dish towel was stained and crusty and the dish sponge looked like a petri dish, black and torn in half. I didn’t even open the fridge since I can’t remember when my last tetanus shot was. There were 3 trash cans and a cardboard box making a wall between the kitchen and hallway overflowing with trash. No trash bags. No paper towels, napkins, hand soap or common knowledge about virus prevention. It was disgusting. We climbed over Mt. Trashmore to get to the bedrooms. I stopped at the bathroom because I had to go. I quickly decided that I could hold it, possibly forever, thankful that I had c-sections. The bathroom was worse than the kitchen. Once again there was an overflowing trash can . There was also a black grocery store hand basket in there full of trash. What? Every bottle of shampoo, lotion, toothpaste, shaving cream, Pringles tin used in the last 9 months was still there, empty. The bar of soap was dry with cracks in it. There were several balled up towels, a few single socks, a wet suit, a belt, 1 shoe, a pencil, a pair of spurs, and 7 rolls of toilet paper on the floor along with so much hair I thought it was a sleeping poodle. Typical for 2 Italian boys sharing a bathroom. Ew. Wait, how often does the housekeeper come? Every few nevers? My son told me that it was a man and he came in to clean every two weeks. Oh that makes sense. Have you seen him lately? Did he get lost and die in here? I could totally see that happening and it would explain the smell. Where is the case of Clorox wipes I sent to you? From there I turned around and climbed into his bedroom. At this point relieved that I could at least see the furniture. His bed was piled high with unfolded laundry that he said not to touch because he knows what is clean and what is dirty. Whatever. The floor was filled with papers, sunflower seeds that spilled, and other random things like a giant spatula, 8’ PVC pipes-6 of them, that when I accidentally stepped on them rolled me forward like a conveyor belt, and a broken pool umbrella. He had a black trash bag full of snacks under his bed that he pulled out and told his sisters to close their eyes and reach inside and grab something. Only my Little was brave enough to do it since she thinks her brother hung the moon and the stars. She reached in and pulled out a smashed package of Little Debbie’s Christmas tree cakes. I smacked it out of her hands since it was the end of May and I didn’t want her eating them. He called it his surprise snack bag since you never know what you will get out of it. Food poisoning. That is what you’ll get. I threw the entire bag out into the hallway. It’s last stop before the dumpster. The only clean thing I saw in that whole apartment was the vacuum. I turned it over to check the rollers fearing they had sucked up who knows what in it when I discovered that it was brand new and never been used. Figures. After four loads of laundry, washing both clean and dirty stuff because let’s face it, it all stunk, 2 giant bags of trash from his room and a lot of complaining by me, we were done. Our car was loaded with all of the stuff he wouldn’t need and honestly would never see again once I took it. He’ll forget about it. This isn’t my first rodeo, I’m a mom so I’m good at making stuff disappear and denying it later. We said our goodbyes and headed back down the coast for the dreaded drive back to SoCal. I needed a mani/pedi and therapy. It’s been 2 weeks since our trip to see him. Surely by now his room is a pit again.
My son has been home from college a few times this year but we hadn’t been up to see him at all. So when he sent me a picture of cows thinking his car is a Tic Tac, I thought we better take a trip to do a welfare check on him. We set out early on a Saturday morning to go see him and found out on our way that he needed to be at a rodeo about an hour and a half from campus that night. Since he said his clutch was giving him “a little trouble”, I told him he could take my car once we got there. We arrived later than we planned because we spent 3 extra hours crawling up the coast of California making our filthy lying Google maps estimate of a 5 ½ hour trip into 8 ½ hours. I have no love lost on the 405, I can tell you that. He was close to being late for the rodeo, so when we got there he kissed me on the cheek, threw his keys at me, yelled over his shoulder not to judge him, and sped off in my shiny new SUV. Judge him? I turned to find his car and took a minute to locate it. All I saw was a filthy little maybe white car that couldn’t possibly be his. I walked closer and yep it was his. That’s what he meant. Oh I judged him all right. I opened the door and not only does his car resemble a roller skate, they both smell the same on the inside. We bought him a tiny car since we know if it were any bigger he’d live in it and thought for sure he can’t mess it up too much since there’s nothing to it. I get it since he works on two different ranches and rides bulls and living in an apartment keeps his gear in there, but seriously? The entire car was full of mud with bugs on the grill from who knows how long that were now forever part of the paint. The picture of the cows was accurate. There were lick marks on all of the windows and the entire windshield. How in the heck did he even see out of it? My Middle and I decided to take it straight to a car wash, then head over to my son’s apartment to check it out after. I had to go back a few years to remember how to drive a stick and quickly realized that “a little trouble” with the clutch meant that 1st gear was gone all together. Not to be discouraged, we bumbled off in 2nd. We hit the nearest gas station with a car wash and filled up his tank, which is about the size of a Gatorade, and selected the deluxe car wash. When we came out of the car wash machine I got out to see how well it worked. It didn’t. I thought that maybe the car is so small that the machine only reached the top and the sides, which were only marginally cleaner, since the rollers never really touched the front or the back. I went in to ask the attendant if I could run it through again for free since it was still pretty gross. He didn’t believe me that a car could be too small to get cleaned, but since he didn’t even bother getting off of his high stool behind the counter to look at the car, I wasn’t backing down. Look Carl, I am stuck in a smelly car and can’t roll down the windows while it’s being washed. I just drove 8 ½ hours to get here, through LA mind you, and I am hungry and I have to pee. That was all irrelevant at this point but I think it helped my case. I could tell that he didn’t want to deal with me so he gave me another code to use for the car wash and swiveled away from me. It was all a waste of time and money since even the second run through the wash did absolutely nothing. We decided to take it to one of those self-wash places that was 2 miles away, which seems close but required a ride on the highway using only 2nd and 3rd gear. We got there finally and pulled into a stall. I put a dollar in the machine giving me one minute. I decided to spend that time first rinsing it down with water before adding foamy soap. I selected the high pressure water option and pulled the trigger. The pressure was so hard it knocked me off my feet into a puddle and I shot water about 30 feet in the air. What the heck? I got up and realized that I couldn’t wash this tiny car with this thing, it will blow it down the street! I told my Middle to get back in the car hoping that a little extra weight in it will stop the car from moving. At this point I only had about 40 seconds until I needed another dollar so I rushed around rinsing it down. I kept putting dollars in the machine running around the car cleaning as fast as I could until $15 later when the car was clean and I was sweaty and exhausted. My hair was at a new level of frizz, pushing my hair tie to the limit and my butt and leg were wet from falling on the ground. We puttered out of the car wash stall and over to the vacuums. We vacuumed for $5 worth and weren’t making any progress so I just threw away his floor mats, ordered new ones from Amazon right then and there and called it a day. You can’t win them all. Leaving the car wash, I drove the wrong way down a one-way street. I freaked out, stalled the car, pushed in the clutch to start it and tried ramming it into the non-existent 1st gear before I realized I needed to start out in 2nd. I didn’t think to turn the car around so I did all of this while jerking the car down the road the wrong way, begging Jesus to take the wheel, and passing a highway patrol car as we went. I just turned to him, gave a small finger wave and shrugged. I think he could tell by my hair what kind of day I was having and didn’t even mess with me. From there we went back to the hotel to shower and take a nap. I was done. I had just spent almost as much money on washing my son’s car as I did buying it in the first place and I didn’t have the energy or mental capacity to see what a disaster his apartment was. That adventure was saved for the next day.
I’m writing to you to express my concern about not making Daylight Saving Time permanent. It’s dumb. Here is my argument proving the dumbness of it. Since we “sprung ahead” last weekend, I am a new person. The fact that I am awake and writing this at 8pm is proof enough. Last week I was in my pajamas ready for bed at 5pm, as I was from November until just this week. I even exercised after work today, which in itself, is a miracle. Now I am actually awake and productive for several more hours per day. You know, making hay while the sun shines. My quality of life has improved so much. I don’t feel like I am alone in this and I know that many people would agree with me. It’s hard to live a normal life slinking around in the dark. A few weeks ago my daughter asked me to take her out for frozen yogurt after dinner and I looked at her as if she’d lost her mind. What? It’s dark! I’ve already showered! Are you nuts? Go to bed! It didn’t matter that it was 6:30pm, it seemed like midnight. I feel like I have put up with a lot from you without complaining too much. I pay a lot to live here and quite frankly with the weather you’ve provided in the last few months, you are not holding up your end of the bargain. You haven’t been very good about making decisions about the laws around here so I thought writing to you might help. I don’t know why you have to continue changing the time and ruining our lives every fall, but you need to figure this out. Let’s ixnay changing clocks back for good OK? As of yet, there is no financial gain from controlling our daylight, so let it go. We need our sun. We are not vampires California. They live in Washington.