It's Almost Christmas Again

  
Well, here we are again. It's 3 days until Christmas and I'm ALMOST ready. I have finished my gift shopping. I'll do my big grocery trip tomorrow. Last night my husband turned to me and asked, "Are you ready to spend 2 solid days straight in the kitchen?" Hahaha. He is not even lying.

This is the second year that the kids don't believe in Santa. It makes the Christmas season different somehow. It just FEELS different. Not bad, maybe a little less stressful. We don't have to do Elf on the Shelf anymore- BLESS UP. Although, whenever Hollister Boy comes over, he moves the elf. I don't know why he does this, maybe because he never had an elf. It is a little fun to track him down, so I can now appreciate the appeal of it for young children. We still do all the Christmas-y things that we always do. The kids were excited to get their Disney Advent calendars and once a week, we light a fire and roast marshmallows and watch a holiday movie together. Last night we watched a Muppet Christmas Carol and we sang along to the songs together. Tonight we will go out to dinner and go see the lights, which is a yearly tradition.

The kids really do like doing these things. They don't roll their eyes or protest. I think it brings back some of the magic for them. It links their childhood to the present. It's so weird when the kids reminisce about the years behind them. "Mom, do you remember when I was little and.....?" or "When I was a kid...." I gives me pause because to me they are still KIDS, but the don't see themselves that way.

Christmas is expensive and the older the kids get, the more expensive it is. Don't even ask me for a damn Apple watch, or an Apple laptop, or some $300 hoverboard. Ugggggh. Both my kids have iphone Xs though, so I actually am a piece of shit.

I am usually really good and I buy a lot of stuff ahead of time and this year was no different, but we literally got pummeled this year. So going into December, I had my budget and was good to go. Then I got a phone call from my daughter's dance studio reminding me that we owed $225 for costumes for the May recital. We pay this every year in December but my daughter hasn't danced since last June so I literally just forgot. Then we had to put down $150 for summer camp. Then we found out we would have to travel for a gymnastics meet, then the battery died in my car and I had to replace that to the tune of $160.

I sat down and wrote everything out and looked it all over. I will not take any more money out of my savings account. Not after the air conditioning unit and damn cat surgery. I don't give a f*ck if we have to eat rice and beans. I generally don't stress about stuff like this. We are faithful.
                              
So I prayed on it and decided that I was going to sell all the sh*t laying around in my house. If we haven't used it in 3 years, I sold it. We had an iPhone 6, perfect condition, in it's original box, just sitting in the closet. Why?!?!? I actually purged a lot of stuff from my house. I donated and threw away a lot of stuff too. It's a good thing to do to prepare for the New Year, anyway.

I sold enough stuff to cover ALL of our "extra" expenses. 
               
I'm am literally not keeping up with the Joneses, there is no magical pot of money, there is no unlimited credit. I don't care what other people think. If you invite me out and I'm trying to pay for camp, or go to Mexico, or buy Christmas, or be stay at home mom.....I will say "no". I will never over-extend myself.

Besides getting ready for Christmas, I've been dealing with health issues. I have a cardiac issue that was diagnosed about 8 years ago. I was having bad tachycardia and passing out. I have an arrhythmia that originates from the upper chambers of my heart. At that time, I went through all kind of tests. I had a holter monitor for weeks, EKGS, echos, an MRI study of my heart....my heart beats irregularly but the structure of my heart is good. I have a leaky valve but that is not the cause of my arrhythmia. At that time, they didn't "do" anything. I just have to be careful about what I do. I have to limit my caffeine intake and I have to NEVER get dehydrated. I try not to over exert myself. I'll never run a marathon but I can do moderate exercise. If my heart beats fast or palpitates, I drink a BIG container of Gatorade or Powerade. I've done great for 8 years. Haven't had issues.

Well, last month, for whatever reason, I started to have heart palpitations out of the blue. For 2 days, I was having 60-70 a day. To a normal person, that sounds alarming but if you break it down, it's only like 3-4 an hour. I felt fine otherwise- no chest pain, no shortness of breath, no light headedness or passing out, my heart RATE is normal.

So, I took extra care to relax, drank a shit ton of Gatorade and BANA water, stopped drinking alcohol completely (I usually have 3 glasses of wine a WEEK), started an additional potassium supplement, limited my coffee fro 12 oz to 8 oz and my palpitations decreased to 10 a day, to 5 a day. I've still been having a few everyday but I have no other symptoms and I FEEL good.

I haven't seen my cardiologist since 2011 and I went for a follow up this week because even though I don't feel like I'm going to die, my heart beating irregularly for this long warrants a trip to the cardiologist. He was so funny. "Does it make you feel anxious?" he asked about my palpitations. 
I shrugged, "Not really. I have no other symptoms. I feel good. I could have just gone to the ER and they would give me fluids and potassium and stabilize me and then would tell me to follow up with my cardiologist. I've know how this works. So I just decided to give myself fluids and potassium and follow up with my cardiologist." He laughed. "That's probably true." My EKG looks good and I'm not in immediate danger. He does think that I may have had a viral infection and because I have an arrhythmia it may have presented with palpitations and that might be a life-long thing. I had some blood work done on Monday at my new primary doctor so we are going to wait to get that back before we do any other tests.

My heart is not the only thing wrong with me. My sh*t is f*cked up. I was diagnosed with RA at 23 after 7 years of consistent joint pain. I have a GI issue. I will randomly have tinnitus and nephropathy in my fingers. I have this weird ice pick headache that lasts 30 seconds and originates from my temple and shoots through my head. I have severe fatigue, sometimes muscle pain. I get hives randomly. My symptoms have come and go through the years, they vary in severity. I have been diagnosed with everything under the sun it feels like, or mostly doctors will THINK I have some issue but my tests and blood work are always normal. I don't look "sick enough" so many times I get dismissed. I have not seen a primary doctor in 6 years because really, I'm done. Either I'm told it's all in my head or they are trying to prescribe me heavy-duty medicine like Humira or Loratab. Ummmmm......no thank you.

I manage my own symptoms. If I'm having a lot of joint pain, I take ibprofen. I try to eat very clean and healthy. I drink a lot of water. I take supplements for nutritional support. I HAVE to get 8-9 hours of sleep at night. I try to pace myself and not over-do it. If I know I'm going to have a period of time where things are stressful, I clear my schedule as much as possible the following week to make sure I can re-cooperate.

With my cardiac issue acting up again, I have re-established with a new doctor. I'm at a holistic practice because I need a change. They tested for nutritional deficiencies as well as Lymes disease and co-infections associated with it. That is like, the only thing I've never been tested for. I don't go back until January 7th.

In spite of this, I have never considered myself sick. I don't. I'm consider myself well, with a few issues here and there. This is my normal. I have had joint pain every day for a long as I remember. I try not to complain and people really would never know. My husband is the only one who REALLY knows because he's seen me crawl into bed at 7:30 pm with crushing fatigue, or soaking in the bathtub because I am so sore and achy, he's retrieved ice packs, and heat pads and ibuprofen. He has picked up my slack at times when I have really not been well.

In spite of this, I have lived a very full life. I have thrived. I have done all the things I've wanted to do. I haven't let it stop me. It's certainly slowed things down but that's okay. I don't want anyone to worry about me or feel bad for me. F*CK that. I don't feel bad for myself. My life is good and I have been blessed. Hopefully, I'll get some answers soon.

Anyway, I need to go clean out my fridge and get my grocery list together because I'm about to spend 2 solid days in the kitchen. Merry Christmas to you and yours!

Coming Out

                     
                         *I have written this post with permission from my daughter*

My original intention was to post this on coming out day. That was October 11th and it is now December 12th. That's how my life goes.

My 12 year old daughter is gay. At least she says that she is and I have no reason not to believe her. We knew it may be coming for quite some time. When she was in fourth grade, she told us, "I haven't decided if I want to marry a boy or a girl when I grow up." To which I replied, "Well, you aren't getting married for quite a while so you have lots of time to figure it out."

And as time went on, things became more clear. In the middle of sixth grade, we were in the car driving to gymnastics. We were chatting and she said to me. "It's girls. I like girls." It was kind of out of the blue and not related to the conversation. "That's okay," I told her. "But, mom, do you want me to like boys instead?" she asked. I thought about what she was really asking me and I thought about how I felt deep in my heart. "The only thing I want is for you to be happy." That is 100% the truth. I was not sad, upset or disappointed. That was that. There was little fanfare about the whole thing.

In the time since, we have talked about it a lot. Gay people don't always lead easy lives. People can be unkind. I have done the best I can to prepare her for that. We talk a lot of finding people who are going to love and support her and how to be okay with who she is. The truth of the matter is, some people are going to judge you and be rude no matter what. I was a 19 year old pregnant white girl who was married to a Puerto Rican. Believe me, if I would have allowed myself to be crushed by the weight of other people's judgements, I'd be Flat Stanley by now.

It is not a secret, but I don't necessarily advertise it either. People's reactions are often, "Why didn't you tell me?" To which I reply, "I don't think it's relevant." If you ask someone about their kids they don't say, "Well, little Johnny likes baseball - he's also straight, by the way." So why should it be any different? People always have LOTS of questions and comments about it. Here are some of them:

So did you know? Were you upset?
I suspected. I wasn't upset. It changes nothing about my daughter, my relationship with my daughter, or my family at all.

Do you support this?
If by support this do you mean, do I love and support who my daughter is? Then yes. I support not being a dick. We don't fly a pride flag outside our house or think there are 64 genders but we are generally non-judgemental of people based on their race, religion and sexual orientation.

Wow, you're lucky that she would be so open with you. 
We are open people. Our kids know that we love them no matter what. We don't want our children to fear us and they can come to us for ANYTHING. As much as possible, we try not to keep secrets and be honest with one another. We are not perfect, but we strive for this.

She doesn't seem gay. 
She doesn't have short hair, or dress like a boy, or listen to Melissa Etheridge or watch Ellen. She doesn't plan to move to Vermont and convert an old barn into a house and wear flannel and overalls and run a raw milk farm. But she still could be gay.

Do you think it's a phase?
I am taking her word for it. It's how she feels at this point in time. I have chosen not to minimize her feelings. Surely some kids struggle with their sexuality and are confused about it. I do not know what will happen in the future.

What was your husbands reaction?
Honestly? He was not upset or disappointed either. It takes a lot of worries off of his shoulders. He was a teenage boy once upon a time. There is that saying, "If you have a son you only have to worry about one penis but when you have a daughter you have to worry about every penis." Well, if you have a lesbian daughter, you don't have to worry about any penises. Silver linings, people, silver linings.

Are you worried that other parents won't let their kids hang out with your daughter?
Kind of. I think there are some parents that think there is such a thing as gay contagion. If there are parents that wouldn't want their child to be around mine for that reason, than that is too bad for their child. Because my daughter is kind, funny, incredibly smart, creative, talented, loyal, all around amazing person, and a good friend. She is like every other 12 year old girl. She just happens to like girls. That doesn't define her.

This parenting gig is not easy. We all have dreams and wishes for who we want our children to be and how we hope that their lives will turn out. Our children have their own dreams, their own wishes and their own lives. I try to remember that. I am here to teach them, to keep them safe, to love them, to help them grow into functioning adults. I want them to love themselves and be okay with WHO THEY ARE.

One day, I hope my daughter finds someone who loves her and treats her good. If that happens to be a woman, I will throw them a big-ass wedding and I will put two brides on the top of the cake. They might adopt some babies from China and I will buy those babies seersucker outfits and books and stuffed animals and I'll post pictures on Facebook and I will be HAPPY AS A CLAM. If other people don't like it? I will give exactly zero f*cks.

It's been a little bit of an adventure. She had a girlfriend for a little while. I think they got together because they are the only girls that like girls. hahaha.

I know I'm getting judged over here. Like, who lets their 7th grader have a girlfriend/boyfriend? Fun story. I had lunch with my daughter on Friday. I sat with her and her friends. The girl who sat across from me who I've known since she was in the 2nd grade, was the sweetest little thing. Now she is taller than me and was wearing mascara and lip gloss. She told me about her boyfriend. "I'm not allowed to date but I don't care. My parents don't have to know." I don't know this child's parents. Which is surprising, because I know a lot of parents. I looked at her and said, "What happened to you child?" To which she replied, " A LOT." The boy next to me piped in, "Yeah! School and puberty!" I was straight up like:
                     
                                     These 7th graders really be out here.

 So anyway, yes, my daughter had a girlfriend that I knew about. She would come over on Wednesdays after school. I'd get them slushies and we'd have family dinners and they'd sit on the couch and watch TV. Sometimes we'd go out somewhere together. It was fine. Unless they were holding hands. Then, I would be freaked out.

In my defense, I also get freaked out when my oldest and Hollister boy hold hands. I hate it.
                                
                                     Stop putting your fingers between each other's fingers. 

Holding hands is a gateway drug. One day you are holding hands, then before you know it you have your tongues in each other's mouth, and then next thing you know you are in the backseat of a station wagon on some remote part of Route 49 and it's already 5 minutes past your curfew and now your going to be grounded for 2 weeks but it's kind of worth it but low-key not and you are wondering how you even got here in the first place.....HOLDING HANDS. That's how. Anyway, I'm just projecting now. Also, that is a completely hypothetical situation that I would know absolutely nothing about.

Seriously though, do you know how nerve wracking it is once your kids mature? It's like sending them out into the world every day with a loaded gun. "Can you put that thing in a safe? Because if you play with it and it accidentally goes off - it's going to ruin all of our lives."  
                        

Bless the boys. Some of them are just off the chain at this age. Do you think the fact that my daughter is publicly gay has stopped the boys? No. No it hasn't. She came home a few weeks ago and was like, "Oh my God! Mom, my friend said that one of her guy friends wants me to have his babies." SEVENTH GRADE PEOPLE!!!! What is wrong with the kids these days? When I was in 7th grade, boys would flash condoms at you but they never wanted to trap you with a baby. What the hell?!?!?!

This other boy, bless him, just loves her and he has been trying so hard. "I finally just had a heart to heart with him and gave it to him straight. I said, 'You can't like me. It's never going to happen. You have to find a girl that likes boys." hahaha. The struggle is actually real.

The years ahead of us should be interesting. I am happy though. I am proud of my daughters and love them NO MATTER WHAT. That is my coming out.

Love is a Burning Thing

Everyone broke up in November, at least in the kid-world that I'm living in. My youngest daughter broke up with her girlfriend of 5 months (yes, I said GIRLFRIEND and yes, I'll write a whole blog about that), my oldest daughter's best friend broke up with her boyfriend, and her best guy-friend broke up with his girlfriend, even my daughter and Hollister Boy broke up. That break-up only lasted about 2 days but it did happen.

There have been a lot of tears and I've sat and listened and offered bowls and bowls of ice cream. I'm always fascinated that the young people want to be in relationships. Relationships are infinitely difficult. But they serve a purpose, they are a learning experience. I don't think that teenagers really need to be in relationships. They should have fun, be selfish, experience a variety of people. I'm a hypocrite. I was a teenage bride. You have your entire life to tethered to someone else.

I picked up my daughter's friend after her breakup and when she sat down in my car and she looked melancholy. "Can we listen to sad love songs?" she said. "I have some songs for that," I told her. I have PLAYLISTS for everything. You have a broken heart? I've got a playlist for that. You need to get motivated to get out of bed? I have a playlist for that. You pooped AFTER you got out of the shower and now you are filled with disgust and shame? I've got a playlist for that. Just kidding. For real though, if you poop after you get out of the shower, you are a serial killer.

So I played the ultimate sad love song- Nothing Compares 2 U (I Can't Make You Love Me is a close runner up.....and Skinny Love by Birdy....ugggghhhhh I'm crying right now) and she looked out the window. Then she ranted a little and she asked me, "Why do grown ups think that we can't be in love. Like they'll say, 'You're only 14, you're too young to be in love but they don't know how we feel.'" I chuckled, the kids all think that, that we can't POSSIBLY know how they feel.

Anyone who is physically mature can "fall" in love. Falling in love is simply a chemical reaction, it's all in your head. It's dopamine, estrogen, testosterone, serotonin, oxytocin and vasopressin. Do I think teenagers can be in love? Sure- in the way that they understand love to be. And really, who are we to hold that against them? In some ways young love is the best kind of love. Young love is hearing every love song on the radio and seeing that other person in your head, it's passing notes (or text messages nowadays), it's the way they smile when you walk into the room, it's the way your heart starts beating fast when they hold your hand and stealing kisses when no one is around. It's being drunk on this paralyzing hormone cocktail.

I think young people love more completely because they are blank slates. There is no baggage, mortgages, children, ways that have been set from a life lived. They live in the moment. The future is so vague and far off. They are hopeful and they believe in love in a way that many adults just can't. They believe in the MAGIC of it all. It's kind of like Santa. But young love is a reflection of adolescence- it's intense, tumultuous, larger than life, and fleeting.

They also can suffer a broken heart. It's a rite of passage. The teenage heartbreak. You must sit in the shower and cry, and listen to sad love songs and cry, and eat ice cream and cry. You will not want to get out of bed and you will hope the ground swallows you. Then you must get angry and rip up the notes and all the pictures you took together (or delete the text messages and the Snapchats), call friends and obsess for hours about all the good times and bad and what went wrong, then you get dolled up and hope that they notice you when you pass in the hallway, and you hug other boys in hopes that they will get jealous and realize what they are missing. Then you will cry some more and eventually that terrible pain in your chest will begin to lift and that person will just become a memory. A character in a chapter in your book that has already been read.

I imagine this is the same thing boys do but with slightly less crying. It's hard, it sucks but it's necessary. We all learn these lessons. Part of our jobs as parents is to help them understand how the world works but love is such a fickle thing. I don't have any real answers. You can give someone the best years of your life and they can leave you. Love often fades. The thing that makes you feel most alive can also make you want to disappear. Love is so easily given but it is also so easily taken away. It is fragile. Maybe that's what makes it so special. That it is risky and when it lasts, rare.

I think the best thing to do is to love yourself. If you love yourself, you are a better partner. You are not looking to be saved or completed. You are responsible for your own happiness. If you love yourself, no matter what happens - you can be okay. The best thing I know to do is to love myself and to love their father. I try really hard because I know they are watching.

The two of us know about young love. We survived it, by some wonderful miracle.

The other night, I was in bed rubbing Aquaphor on my crusty ass feet. Seriously, I need to take a cheese grater to my heels. My husband was sitting next to me, playing a video game. I was working on the bottom of my feet and I said, "Ewwww...come feel this scar on the bottom of my foot." He refused. "I've felt that scar already." I protested, "C'mon, it feels so gross." He laughed, "Seriously, I don't need to feel it. I know every bruise, scar, mark on your body."

I thought he was actually full of it. "Oh yeah? Well, how many moles do I have on my back?" I asked. He didn't look up or hesitate, "Three." I went into my daughter's room and I lifted up the back of my shirt. "Tell me how many moles I have." She looked at me like I was a weirdo but she counted them. "Three."

I went back into my room with tears in my eyes and I stood in front of my husband. "I have three moles on my back," I said. "Yeah, I know," he replied with a smile. "You love me," I said. "Of course," he replied, matter of fact. I leaned over and kissed him. Even though our young love was magical it could never compare to THIS.

The Holly Bears a Prickle as Sharp as Any Thorn

  
It's here again - Christmas time. I stopped anticipating the holidays years ago, they come so quickly. I swear we just HAD Christmas and yet here it is again. I enjoy this time, it's my favorite time of the year.

I usually don't go Black Friday shopping but my kids tricked me this year. They put on a ruse that they had to get birthday presents for their friends. When I came into the house at the end of the day loaded down with bags, my husband looked at me sideways. "What happened?" I shrugged. "I told the kids they could get ONE thing, but at like, 10 stores." I had regrets.

The next day, it was time for the Thanksgiving decorations to come down and the Christmas decorations to go up. I have so many things - figurines, trinkets, nutcrackers, snowmen and Santa Clauses. I decided to pare down this year, to be more simple. I did lots of garlands and just a few things.

The elf permanently sits atop my golden reindeer on the mantel. My husband hates the reindeer. He thinks it gaudy and terrible but that's my buddy and he STAYS. 

I love these angels that my daughter drew when she was in 1st grade. 

My kids made these from their tiny fingerprints. 

I looked at all their pictures with Santa. There is a stack, 12 years worth. The last time they both went to visit Santa was in 2014. We went in 2015 on Christmas Eve because I was a big-time slacker that year and it was a 3 hour wait. In 2016 my youngest decided that she was too old to visit Santa. So, the picture of the two of them in 2014 is sitting on my shelf. They were in matching outfits, sitting on Santa's lap, smiling. I didn't know that was the was the last time they'd go see Santa together. 

When I was growing up, it was our tradition to decorate the Christmas tree on Christmas Eve but I LOVE seeing my decorated tree up all month long so we decorate within the first few days of putting it up. We always light a fire and have cookies and roast marshmallows and watch a holiday movie after. 

I often talk about my hodge podge ornaments. We have so many- from family milestones, from my grandparents, from our travels. 

The year I was born!

This is our "Japan" ornament. I have no idea what it says. It probably says, "Poop In My Butt" or something obscene. 

In all it's glory.

The next morning, I was up before everyone. I sat on the couch and drank my coffee by the glow of the Christmas tree. I admired all of my ornaments and I thought of all of my Christmases. When I was 18, I visited my grandfather at his beach house. It must have been Memorial Day. I had dinner with him that night. I was graduating soon, getting married, moving far away. He went into the attic and he gave me a box. I didn't open it until I got back home. It was Christmas ornaments that belonged to him and my grandmother. God! I miss him so much. He's been gone 10 years this year and my heart still aches for him. 

I spent my first "married" Christmas in Oklahoma with just my husband and I. I hung my grandparents ornaments on my tiny, $10 pipe cleaner tree. It made me happy.

I reminisced while I admired my tree and I wondered about which ones I would gift to my children when they grow up. My oldest will get the silver flute and my youngest the gymnastics girl. Maybe I'll let them pick ONE other ornament they want from my collection that reminds them of their childhood. Then, I decided we would start a NEW tradition this year. 

On Christmas Eve morning, after breakfast, I will take the girls out and I'll let them each pick out their own ornament. We'll mark them and hang them on the tree before bed and add them to our collection. We'll do this every year until they have a home of their own. On that Christmas, when I go to decorate my own tree - I will set their ornaments aside and I will gift them to my daughters to start their own collections. I think that will be nice. 

On Saturday night, we had a rare evening to ourselves. Our house is usually full of children on the weekends so it was a nice reprieve. My youngest was sleeping over a friend's house and my oldest had a birthday party. We decided to wander around the bookstore and enjoy a cup of coffee together. We used to do that often before the children came. We'd hang out at Hastings every Saturday. I never go to the bookstore anymore. I only buy books on Amazon or pick them up from the library. 

We browsed through the aisles. They keep all the sex books under a section entitled LIVING YOUR BEST LIFE which made me chuckle. I wandered into the parenting section, they have 10x's more books on potty training than they do on raising teenagers. Should be the other way around, to be honest.

I found myself in the children's section - walking past books my children used to love. Strega Nona, Pinkalicious, Madeline, No David, The Little Engine That Could.... When I was pregnant with them, I brought more children's books than onesies. We used to read to the kids EVERY NIGHT. Those were some of my favorite times. After their baths, curled up next to me in their pajamas, reading the three books they picked out. I should have given their books away to kids that don't have books but I just couldn't bear it. I have boxes and boxes of the kid's books in my attic (with a few treasured toys). One day, when they gone and I have accepted it and turned the bedrooms into guest rooms - I'll get a new bookshelf and bring them out again. 

After perusing the children's section, I found my husband again and we ordered coffee. I also had a warm caramel toffee cookie. He read a book about the founding of Rome, I choose an astrology book. I am a true Aquarian. 

There were 2 older couples sitting near us. I leaned into my husband, "Is this going to be us every Saturday night when the kids are gone?" I asked. 

He didn't even look up from his book, "Probably," he said taking a sip of his coffee. 

I felt strange for me to be there with just him, relaxing, enjoying coffee and a book. It's like it had always been this way. Like the years between then and now were merely a dream. I'm not really sure how I feel about this time. 

This feeling that the children are here but that their childhoods are gone, the holidays without the delight of young children, this push and pull between the past and future when I really only want to exist in the present. I am not joyful but I am not sad. I feel calm, but beneath the surface I am fragile. 

That Mom Life

                          
I had hoped this week would be more relaxing. Compared to last week, it was a walk in the damn park but it was still a shit show. I've gotten used to it. There was just so many THINGS to do. Always an event, a practice, a bullshit thing that comes up.

I did accomplish a few things that have been on my agenda. I mowed and edged the front and back yard for the last time this year. Goals. I have accepted that my to-do list will never be finished. I'm just taking things one day at a time.

A terrible thing happened this week. I'm going to tell this story - as a cautionary tale to other parents but know it's not for the faint of heart. Be prepared to cringe- so hard that you will feel it in the actual core of your being. Just thinking about it now, I shutter.

So, one of the nights this week, we were hanging out in the living room. I had a fire going in the fireplace, I was in my fleece pants and fuzzy socks, I was drinking a glass of wine. I was fully relaxing, enjoying my life. Little did I know, my world was about to be rocked.

My oldest daughter was talking about someone's parents getting divorced. Then she said, "I never worry about you and dad." I thought that was really sweet. "Awww, really?" I said. We could have just left it at that. It would have been fine. But no. She followed up with, "I know you still like each other a lot because I hear you playing the piano all the time." Except she didn't say "play the piano", she used another term that I had never heard before, that was so jarring that I can't even type it. I was shook.
                                
No. That just cannot be. "Are you serious?!?!?!" I asked. She was like, "Yeah. It's low-key disgusting." I was so upset. Like, I wanted to crawl underneath the couch and die. I was MORTIFIED. I was apologetic. "I am so sorry. I hope you know that it would never be my intention to disrespect you or make you uncomfortable. Are you scarred for life? Do you want me to make you an appointment with your therapist so you can talk through it?" I was dead serious.

She shrugged, "Nah. It's fine. It happens, that's life. I just put my headphones in."
                   
Then we just changed the subject and started talking about Thanksgiving. She seemed totally fine, she didn't seem bothered in the least. But I was bothered. I was not the same person that I was 5 minutes before. There has to be a word for an emotion that includes- embarrassment, self-loathing, and resignation. I felt THAT way. Thot Mom Award.

First of all, "all the time" is a little bit of a stretch, in my opinion. Second of all, we are not some kind of degenerate weirdos. We are not disappearing in the middle of a Saturday afternoon. Parents wait - until the kids are asleep, until they are out of the house, until they are distracted. There is little spontaneity and romance about the whole thing. When the kids are young, you think that it will get better and that you will have more time. But you won't because when they are older they are ALWAYS awake. They don't take naps, they stay up later than you, even when you think they are asleep, they aren't really. It makes it more difficult. Plus, they are more AWARE. Things don't go over their heads anymore. It's like when your kids learn to spell.

Like, a few months ago, I was in the kitchen making dinner. My husband came in and hugged me. I don't know what it is- but whenever I'm standing at the stove, it makes him happy. I was being kind of flirty and I starting singing, 2 Become 1, which is totally a 90's thing to do. I hear a voice yelling from the next room, "EWWWWWW. I'm downstairs. STOP!" I didn't know my kid was sitting in the living room. Ooooops. Or the time I was driving and I told her to text her dad on my phone and she scrolled WAY up. I think she thinks we talk about her in our spare time and was trying to find out. She threw my cell phone down. "Stop texting dad disgusting things," she said with a frown. "How about don't read my text messages?" I replied.

Even an innocent wink or a lingering kiss elicits gagging from the children. I get it. I really do. I would never purposely try to make my kids uncomfortable and always try to be very discreet. I am a mother. I take my role as a mother very seriously and I do everything I can to be there for my kids and provide them with a good life. BUT, I am also a wife. I think my role as a wife is EQUALLY AS important as my role as a mother. The relationship with my husband is important. It is a priority to me and is the cornerstone of our family's happiness and survival. Sorry kids.

So, learn your lessons from me. You might think your kids are asleep, but they aren't actually asleep. They might actually know. I know what I'm adding to the Christmas list this year- noise cancelling headphones.
              

In other news, my 14 year old has decided she wants to get a job. On Monday, she came home and said, "I'm applying for a job at Publix." That came out of the blue. I don't think she really needs to work and she plead her case to me. "Well, I do marching band 12-25 hours a week and I still kept my grades up. I want to work like 8 or 12 hours a week. Maybe on the breaks and summer a little extra. I always am asking you guys for money and I want to make my own money. Plus I will be driving next year and I will have to buy gas and stuff."

I thought about it and decided to let her give it a go. I told her that I would take her but she would have to do the application herself. I told her that if she really wanted to get a job, she should ask to speak to the manager and introduce herself. We practiced a little bit and I made her shake my hand. "You have to have a firm handshake." On Wednesday, I dropped her off. I told her that if she has issues filling out the application, she can call or text. I parked in the back of the parking lot and waited. My phone started to ring. It was her, speaking in a whisper.
"Mom, I don't have a suffix. What do I do?"
"Just leave that part blank," I said.
"Ok, thanks."
She hung up. A little while later, my phone rang again.
"Mom, what's my social security number?"
I told her. "Thanks!"
She hung up. A minute later, my phone rang again.
"Mom - our zipcode is XXXXX, right?"
"Yes," I confirmed.
"Okay. I just wanted to make sure. Thanks."

I was chuckling so hard. I waited 45 minutes. Finally she called and asked where I was parked. I picked her up and she gave me the play by play. "I finished the application. Then, I asked to talk to the manager. I was really nervous but I introduced myself. I gave a firm handshake and I told him that I was only 14 and never had a job before but that I was a hard worker and that I want to learn how to work with customers and other people. I also said I had a good attitude and that I can work up to 12 hours a week. He was really nice and said he was looking at applications after Thanksgiving and to call him in 2-3 weeks if I don't hear from him. I feel good about it." I smiled. "Good! We'll keep our fingers crossed."

I was thinking about it and you know what? My child is an actual bad ass. I think it took a lot of guts and initiative for her to do that. She went in there by herself, she really put herself out there to talk to an adult and plead her case. Good for her. Even if she doesn't get the job, it was a good experience for her. I was proud.

The rest of the week was mostly uneventful. Our new mattress and box spring came in. You'll remember our old box spring broke and mortally injured our cat. When we took everything out there was a huge blood stain under our bed. It was upsetting.
                                    
We got a memory foam mattress which my husband was SO excited about. His back hurts for no reason because he is getting old. It was so comfortable. I was so excited to sleep in our new bed. I was ready to get a good nights sleep. I've been so tired.

Unfortunately, I was jarred out of my blissful sleep at 2 in the morning by my husband shaking me. "Are you ok? Are you ok?" he said, frantically, over and over again. I sat up, PISSED. "No, I'm not okay. I was sleeping. What the hell?" He stared at me with glassy eyes. This bitch was asleep. He is prone to sleep walking/talking but he doesn't usually wake me up. I was triggered. I miss sleep so bad.

None of this makes sense, I'm rambling, I'm tired. My husband is 36 today so I'd better go make some cupcakes. Maybe if I'm lucky, I'll get a nap in. Lord knows, I need it.

The Week That Was

                               
It's been a weird week. The accounts of this week will be reviewed, it can best be described as a saga. This is going to take awhile. I suggest you pour yourself a glass of wine and settle in.

It started last Tuesday. The day before Halloween. I had alterations to make to my youngest daughter's Halloween costume. She wanted to be Keneki Ken from Toyko Ghoul for Halloween. Do you know who that is? Probably not. Neither did I. I did not feel like making a costume this year, so I ordered it online. You can't just walk into Walmart and pick up a Keneki Ken costume. I paid $30 to have it shipped from China so it would get here on time.

It shows up and it's all wrong. The sizing was off, it didn't look the same. I would have called and thrown a fit but the invoice basically said: THANK PURCHASE IS GOOD FOR KENEKI KEN so I decided that was a waste of time. I had to turn the pants into shorts, shorten the sleeves 5 inches and take the sleeves in.

So, the day before Halloween I spent my morning fixing the costume while I had coffee with my girlfriend who lives around the corner. She talked and I sewed. We have coffee about once every 2 weeks and we generally spend most of our time chatting about all the shit that needs to be fixed in the house and all the ways our kids our annoying us. Today was different.

"So, we think the neighbor across the street is dead. We haven't seen her for a while," she says.
She went on to tell me all the evidence and then that they were going to call the police later that day for a wellness check. Then we chatted for an hour about how much we hate our popcorn ceilings.

I went about my day. I was hosting a small get together for Halloween so I had a lot of cooking and cleaning to do. Then, I picked up my youngest from school and took her to gymnastics and then did the high school pick up. My daughter and I were "spilling the tea", as she would say, and I was telling her about how my friend thought our neighbor was dead.

I pull around the corner and there are 3 cop cars, and ambulance, and a firetruck in our circle. "Mom, I'm pretty sure she's dead." I texted my friend to find out what happened and she immediately texted me: COME DOWN. So I walked down to her house and I hung out with a group of our neighbors and we rubber necked. Apparently she had been dead for 2-3 months. There were cops everywhere, it smelled terrible. Everyone was trying to figure out when they had last seen her. Not the friendliest lady in the world, God rest her soul.

We enjoyed fellowship together on the sidewalk. I low-key felt bad but the living have to go on living. After the coroner came and left, I went back home to make dinner and finish my Halloween prep. I picked up my kid from gymnastics and made her try on her costume, which fit perfectly and then went to bed.

The next morning was Halloween! We love Halloween and had big plans. The high school had a late-in, so I planned to run errands in the morning. I had miscellaneous things to get. Dry Ice from the other side of town, since Publix stopped selling it. A hose and unflavored gelatin from Walmart and a ladle and napkins from the Dollar Store. Should have been uneventful.

I left the house at 7 am to go to an oxygen supply store for dry ice. I walk in and there are 3 older men that greeted me. I got 10 pounds of dry ice and I'm checking out and the guy asked what I am getting dry ice for. I told him I was putting it in cocktails and he looked at me like I was insane and I got a lecture about how dangerous it is. Seriously? Every year I make "witches brew" with dry ice for the kids. It's their favorite thing. I was driving away feeling all paranoid about injuring everyone. Boo.

Then, I went to Walmart to get a hose. I walk into the Garden Center and it's all Christmas trees. They are playing Christmas music. It is HALLOWEEN. I was hardcore triggered. I asked the dude where I can find a garden hose and he points me outside to a sad rack that had random leftover garden stuff. There was one $50 hose, sprinkler system thing. I was annoyed. That was not going to work. Oh well. I went over to find the unflavored gelatin for this shrimp "brain" mold I was making.

There was no unflavored gelatin. I was looking for something that would work but everything had sugar and sugar and shrimp don't really go together. I was now 0-2 at Walmart.

I just cut my losses and left and went to the Dollar Store right next door. I got my 2 things and I got in line. There was one lane open. There were 3 people in line, including me. The cashier was arguing with a lady about a coupon, the woman in front of me had a few things on the conveyor belt and had a 3 year old with her. She is talking to the 3 year old, but loudly, so I couldn't help but overhear the conversation.

"It's Halloween AND Shawty's birthday- I'm popping bottles tonight!" she tells the 3 year old. Weird thing to say to a 3 year old, but to each their own. Then the kids starts to wander off and she was like, "A scary man is going to kidnap you!" Well, okay.... Finally, the manager gets called out to help the coupon situation. He resolves it and as the cashier is finishing the transaction the manager tells me he can take me in the next lane over. It made sense to do that, as by the time the lady gathered her things and brought them over, the woman in front of her would already be walking out the door.

So, I walk over with my TWO things and the lady starts getting really loud. "I was next in line! This is bullsh*t...." I practically threw my money at the guy and ran out the door. I'm halfway to my car and I hear yelling and her and the manager are now outside of the Dollar Tree and she is dragging the three year old by the arm and screaming at this guy. "F*ck you, motherf*cker!" she yelled at him, right in front of the kid. He told her she was banned from the store and she was like, "I don't want to come to this piece of sh*t store anyway! F*ck you!" It was way too much for me to be experiencing at 8 o'clock in the morning. Bless that 3 year old. Good luck in life, kid.

I still had time so I went to Lowes and got a hose, put gas in my car and then went home to pick up my oldest to take her to school. We are halfway to school and this child says, "Mom, I legit forgot my shoes." Are you kidding me? She NEVER puts her shoes on before she leaves the house. She doesn't wear shoes in the car EVER but this is the first time she left her shoes. I was hella annoyed. I turned around and we got her damn shoes and I actually did get her to school on time. That would be the first of 2 shoe debacles to happen this week.

I spent the day making cocktails and putting together snacks and mopping and getting ready for the evening. Because we don't trick-or-treat with the kids anymore, I wanted to do something fun so we decided we would dress up, light a fire in the driveway, have some friends over and have drinks while we passed out candy. The kids initially invited a few kids to go trick or treating. Little did I know....

After school, the kids come home and some of their close friends came over and I made them dinner and they had "witches brew" and got into their costumes. Then I got into my costume. My husband and I were dressed like ancient Romans. I set out food and we started a fire. Then kids started showing up. Lots of them. At one point I counted more than 30 kids in my front yard. It was a little bit of a mad house. They were trying to eat all my food but I told them that they needed to go trick or treating, that grownups get first dibs and that they could have the leftovers when they got back. If they didn't have a costume I made them put one on. I had pulled out my costume bin-  we have costumes for days.

Before they departed, I gathered them for a group picture and then yelled the rules. "I expect y'all to be respectful. Everyone knows my kids faces so anything will get back to me and you know I will call your mamas. Don't be knocking on doors past 9:30 and have a good time!" I'm that mama.

Once the kids left, it was great. I had drinks, I got to hang out with all my friends and neighbors and my husband. It was good company. It really was a great time. We gave out 500 pieces of candy. Around 9, the kids came back and it was a whirlwind. They all seemed to be having a nice time, my oldest had a temporary freak out about something but it was short lived.

The last guests left at 10:30. The fire was still going in the driveway so the four of us sat out there for a while. We talked about our night and had some family time. I am partial to my 4. My husband had drank more than his share and he was loudly declaring, "Best Halloween ever. We're doing this every year!" I was like, Slow down, Julius Caesar. 

I went in to survey the damage- not too bad. A lot of soda cans laying around, wigs were strewn across my living room, there were some chips on the floor but nothing excessive. Someone did write Yeetus my Petus on my notepad on the fridge. hahahaha. Teenagers.

They had eaten ALL of the food. There was nothing to be wrapped up or tossed. It was great. I got to work emptying the soda cans. My husband came in my the house with our dining room bench that we'd pulled outside. He whips it around the corner and knocks over the trashcan. There was a half filled coke in there and there is coke, nerds, chips, plates of dip - literally all the contents in the trashcan were on my kitchen floor.

I think my husband only barely noticed. He had really had a good time. I picked up the mess and mopped up what I could. I was exhausted. I crawled into bed at midnight. The next morning was rough. My husband and I got up at 6:30 the next morning. He was quite hungover and was in an actual struggle. But, he went to work. I got up to mop because you'll remember my floors were covered in Nerds and Coca-Cola.

I told the kids that they could sleep in and go to school late the next day. Bad Mom Award. They got up around 9 and I fixed them breakfast and dropped them both off around 10:30. Then, when I got home-I had alternations part 2.

The school does this contest for the boys where a certain number of boys from each grade get to participate in a pageant-type event and those boys nominate escorts and my daughter was picked. She was surprised but really excited. I think she just wanted to dress up. I brought her a dress the Saturday before Halloween but hadn't had time to make the alterations until now.

It needed 3 inches taken from the straps, 2 inches taken in at the waist and it needed to be hemmed 4 inches but there were 2 layers that needed to be hemmed separately. The material was such that it couldn't be stitched so I had to use sewing tape. Let's just say it consumed my whole afternoon and early evening. I am not a professional seamstress. I took Home Economics in 7th grade. It was a big job.

When I was finished, and before I cut the extra material off the bottom, I wanted her to try it on to make sure it was right. I fit like a glove. But I was messing with the bottom and my daughter was caching an attitude with me. I was exhausted and done. "Listen, I don't like your attitude and I feel like you are not appreciating me."
"I'm not having an attitude," she protested in an attitude-y type of way.
I removed myself from the situation and went back to my room to cut the excess material from the bottom of her dress. A little while later, she walks in.

"I apologize for having an attitude, even though I wasn't having an attitude," she said to me.
I was too tired to argue. I just looked up at her. "Why are you apologizing?"
"Because you're mad at me and I don't want you to be mad at me," she said.
I was genuinely puzzled. "So, I'm mad at you for having an attitude and you think that apologizing to me and then stating you weren't having an attitude will make me NOT be mad at you anymore?"
She folded her arms, "I really wasn't having an attitude."
"Perception is reality, my dear," I replied.
"Well, I WASN'T," she reiterated, with emphasis. As if saying it differently was going to convince me. The child knows how to beat a dead horse.

All was well in the end, and I finished the dress and slept HARD that night. I was so stinking tired. The next morning, I had to go to awards for my 7th grader. She got straight A's. I was super proud of her. However, I hate awards. They are the worst. They don't bring me joy. They are long and drawn out. I'm not a fan. Thankfully, one of my girlfriends was sitting next to me and kept me entertained. She'd lean over and whisper in my ear things like, "What are they feeding that boy? He's in 7th grade and looks like he has a wife and kids at home." I was dead. I am making her come with me to EVERY awards. After my kid got called and she shook the principals hand and saw me- I yeeted out of there (as the kids would say).

I went to the grocery store, unloaded the groceries, cooked dinner since I'd be out that evening and then went to pick up the kids. An hour later, I had to turn around and drop my oldest back off to get ready for the pageant, then an hour and half after that, I was back again to watch the show. I'm sitting in the audience and the show is about to start and my phone starts blowing up. It's my daughter's friend. I step out into the lobby, "Hello?"
My daughter is on the line and she is full out SOBBING. "Mom, my phone died and I cannot find my shoes anywhere. Can you check your car?"
I run out to my car and there are no shoes. I call her back and told her, "Just go without shoes, your dress is long and will cover your feet, no one will know." She hated that idea.
Luckily, one of her friends who was there to take pictures for the yearbook had an extra pair of black shoes and my child put them on and was wiping mascara from her face as they were doing the pledge of allegiance.

I sat down in my chair and was on edge. I can't even deal with my kid's crises. It stresses me out. I really enjoyed the show and my daughter looked so beautiful. I can't even believe that she belongs to me- that I made her from scratch. I sat and watched all the children, many who I know personally, and they looked so grown up. They are smart, beautiful, talented kids. They are young but on the verge of adulthood. Their lives are full of endless possibilities. The entire world belongs to them and they don't even realize it. They won't realize it or appreciate it until this time has passed. That's something to think about.

Afterwards, a group of the freshman kids and parents went to Yokoso. We were there until almost 11:30. My daughter was falling asleep at the table. I crawled into bed at midnight. Again. Ugggggh. I wanted to sleep in the next day and I did- until 7:15.

I get up and didn't have any plans. I did have 4 loads of laundry to do and I had to take down all my Halloween decorations and do some things around the house. My oldest had made plans to go to the movies. She's about to walk out the door and the doorbell rings. I open the door and here is Hollister Boy just standing on my door step.
"I didn't order any cookies," I said. Then, "Ummmm.....did you guys make plans or something because she is about to go to the movies."
"Well, she said I could come over today but that was like, on Thursday." My daughter came down and they chatted, she was about to leave.
"You want me to take you home?" I asked.
The child looked pitiful. "Please don't make me go home." He never wants to go home.
"Well, I have a lot to do. I have some work for you if you want to stay." He agreed.

I showed him how to use the power washer and he power washed the front of the house and my garage door while I re-painted my porch chair and took down the yard decorations. I made him help me pull stuff out of the garage, and take out the trash. "Are we going to decorate for Thanksgiving?" he said, excited. Yes, we are going to decorate for Thanksgiving.

My daughter was home by then and I took down the Halloween decorations and put up the Thanksgiving decorations. Then, for some reason I decided to make this Thai chicken soup for dinner. I SHOULD have ordered take-out but instead I decided to be in the kitchen for 2 hours. I made fresh red curry paste, I was chopping veggies, I made fresh broth. It was labor intensive. It was delicious but I had regrets.

I baked cookies and after dinner, we settled in and watched Drop Dead Fred. The kids loved it. We need to show them Problem Child next. I am so pleased that they agree to watch old movies with us. 

The following day we had planned to go to the Renaissance Festival in North Carolina. We go every year but last year it didn't happen. Usually we go up and spend the night but that wasn't conducive this year. We decided to go up and back in one day. Worst idea ever. We left at 7 am since it's 3 hours away. I was the only one who dressed up. I was a little Renaissance boy. My kids thought I was embarrassing. I did not give one shit. If I'm going to be a nerd, I'm going full on. It was a great time. We LOVE the Renaissance festival. The kids get into it. We ate turkey legs, saw acrobats and belly dancers, we rode rides, we shopped, we watched jousting. We shut the Festival down. We stayed ALL day. 

It took an hour and 45 minutes just to get out of the parking lot and then it was horrible torrential rain ALL the way home. Needless to say, our timeline was way off. The kids slept the first half of the ride and then the second half they wanted to play a game. We ALWAYS play word games or ispy on long car rides. That night we played "The Ministers Cat". So the way it works is that the first person says, "The minister's cat is an _____ cat - and you need to describe the cat with an "A" and go around until someone gets stumped or someone repeats and then you move on to "B". So the ministers cat might be an alley cat, and then the next person will say, "The minister's cat is an agile cat...." so on and so forth. 

                        

It's hilarious to play with older kids because you get some interesting responses -that night the minster's cat was an asshole cat, he was a drug dealing cat, he was a horny cat, he was a gynecologist's cat (the minister was also a gynecologist?), he was a murderous cat.... Okay guys. 

We did not get home until 11:45. Worst parents ever. I rolled into bed at midnight, for the 3rd time that week. 

I was up bright and early around 6 the next day, I did my breakfast/lunch routine, dropped my oldest off at school and met up with my girlfriends for coffee. It was so nice to catch up with them but damn! I was tired. I got home and took a shower, threw in laundry, did the dishes and prepped dinner and then I had to pick up my youngest for a doctors appointment. I was home maybe 2 hours before I had to leave again. I did that, took her to gymnastics, picked up the oldest from school, made dinner and did another load of laundry and then it was time to pick up my youngest again. I was tired but I knew the rest of the week was not going to be better. Just let me get through this week. I told myself.

The next day was election day. The kids had off, so they could sleep. They needed it. I promised my girlfriend who was running for mayor that I would shake hands and kiss babies on her behalf at my polling place that morning - so that's what I did. I had the 7am-9am shift. The lines were LONG. I decided I would vote later when the line was shorter. I ran to the store because I ran out of creamer and then went home and did the laundry and dishes and made lunch for my husband and kiddos and then went to have lunch with my mom.

It was so good and relaxing. I needed it because what was going to happen later would push me over the edge. When I got home, I went to vote and the line was still long as HELL. I waited for an hour and a half, did my civic duty and then went home. It was dinner time. I went to fire up the grill and the damn propane tank was empty. I switched out the grill tank for the fire table tank and that one was low too so took forever to heat up. Minor inconvenience. I dealt with it. 

Although, I had kept up with doing my laundry that week, I hadn't kept up with folding it. I had 7 loads of laundry in a pile to fold, so I started that. I went back downstairs and finished dinner, served dinner, and then finished folding the laundry. When that was done - I took my oldest to her flute lesson. 

I'm driving home from her flute lesson and I am bone tired. I am fantasizing about going home, taking off my bra, getting into my pajamas, pouring myself a glass of wine and sitting my tired ass on the couch and watching the election results come in. I was so excited about my wine. I usually drink $7 trash wine but I went to a wine party and got good $30 wine. I still had half a bottle left. I was pumped about it. 

I was halfway home and my phone rings. It's my husband. "I need you to get home like, RIGHT NOW! The cat has a wound!" He was freaking out. "What do you mean?" I asked. "It's bad. I need you here now," was all he said. "Okay, I'll be home in 5." 

Our cat is an indoor cat. How bad of a wound could he have? I was sure it was a scratch. I wasn't super worried. I walk in the door and the cat is standing on the stairs. He doesn't look upset, he looks normal. "Where I this wound?" I ask. My husband points to his side. I go to look and there is a HUGE chunk missing out of his shoulder. Down to the bone. I freaked the f*ck out. 

I didn't even sit down. "We need to take him to the animal hospital RIGHT NOW." I went to collect his crate and I asked the kids to see if they could figure out where his did it. There was blood trailing through the house. They wanted to come with us but they had school in the morning. "Just finish your school work, get in your pajamas. We will call y'all." Off we went. 

We checked in around 9:15. The cat seemed fine in spite of the fact that he had this horrible, gruesome wound. They took us back and we waited...and waited....and waited. Our oldest called and informed us that there was a lot of blood under our bed and that the box spring appeared broken. He must have gotten under there and sliced his arm on the bed frame. 

The tech finally come in and she was asking us a bunch of questions. Some were weird. Like, "Was your cat left alone at all today?"

Why does that matter? Is that not allowed? Are you going to call Cat Protective Services on us? My kids are home alone right now, so yes, we are shitty people. 

My phone died at 10:30, I tried to curl up on the wooden chair and rest my eyes and we waited some more. At 11:30 the doctor came in. "His wound is very deep. He has a blood vessel exposed. We are going to need to put him to sleep, debride and clean the wound, and then repair it. We'll give him an IV antibiotic and pain meds and then a 14 day antibiotic injection. But since I can't get to it for a few hours, we wont charge you for boarding and you can get him in the morning. I'll have them write up a quote." 

She shut the door and I looked at my husband. "It's going to be a $1,000," I said. We just sat there, glassy eyed and silent. They came back in and sure enough, it was $975. 

You might remember that 4 weeks ago, we replaced our air conditioning unit and 4 weeks before that we had to evacuate our home because of the hurricane and you might remember that Christmas is in 5 weeks. Let us bow our heads and have a moment of silence for my savings account. 

                                   

                                                               Get well soon, savings account. 

We said goodbye to the cat and headed home. On the way home, I was talking about how I still wanted a glass of my wine. My husband was being weirdly quiet. I was drained. We rolled up at midnight and I walk into the kitchen and I see my wine bottle EMPTY on the counter. My husband had drank my good wine while I was at my daughters flute lesson. I was TRIGGERED. I just crawled into bed. I would have cried but I was too tired. It was after midnight. Fourth time that week. 

I was up at 6. I called the animal hospital and the cat did good with his surgery. They told me to pick him up after 9. I made breakfast and lunch for everyone and then got in the car to take my oldest to school. I crank the car and Christmas music starts playing from my radio. 

                 

I'm not a Grinch, I love Christmas but I don't want to hear a Jingle bell, see a Christmas tree, deck the damn halls until after Thanksgiving. One month of Christmas is adequate for me. I promptly deleted the radio station from my list. I don't even want to accidentally come across The Little Drummer Boy. No. Just NO.

I dropped my oldest off at school and headed straight to the animal hospital to pick up the cat. I was still in my pajamas and I was giving zero f*cks. 

I walked in to get the cat and the lady at the front pulls up my stuff and said, "You have a balance of $200." Oh, hell to the no. I didn't freak out, I was too tired. "Why? I paid $975 like 9 hours ago." She went to the back to check what the deal was. She came back and said, "That's for his pain medicine." No. I've had 10 stitches in my hoo-ha and they only gave me ibuprofen - I'm not paying $200 for cat morphine. 

I just looked at this fresh faced, blonde 23 year old receptionist and said very calmly, "I'm not doing that, so I'm going to need you to try again." She must have known that I was on the verge of losing my actual shit -so she went to the back again. When she came out she said, "They are giving him different medicine so you actually will get a $75 refund." Bless, I'll take everything I can get. 

The cat is in his crate and he is wearing the cone of shame and he looks PISSED. I take him home and he hadn't eaten so I move his food right by the crate and I open the door and this bitch bolts out and tries to jump on the dresser. I put him in the dogs cage and he was freaking out. Writhing, trying to get the cone off, rolling around on his incision. Being crazy. I gave him his medicine and he calmed down but he was NOT happy. I peeked at the incision and it looked horrifying. 

I decided that clear out our walk-in closet - move his food and litter box in there so he could have some space and not have to be crated and there was nothing he could jump on and hurt himself. I did that and he finally settled down. I felt terrible for him. He was PISSED. 

I left him to rest and I wanted to take a nap but there was no time. It was Gabby Douglas day! My daughter's gymnastics did a fundraiser to bring Gabby Douglas to their gym and my daughter raised $850. I got her favorite leotard out and I gathered some items for Gabby to sign. I made dinner for my husband and daughter since I wouldn't be home all afternoon and evening. I took a shower since I was greasy as hell and then I went to pick up my daughter. 

We got to the gym and she got dressed and then we waited for Gabby to arrive. She stepped out of the car and the girls greeted her with flowers and bubbles. There were different contests they could win and my daughter won a VIP meet and greet with her. It was so cool. It was her and 4 other kids in a room with Gabby. They had her sign their items - she had a poster and a picture that Laurie Hernandez had signed too. She answered questions, took pictures with them. My daughter was so nervous and in awe. She could barely speak. Gabby was super nice and down to earth. It was awesome. 

Later they did a clinic with her and Gabby picked out my daughter and another girl from the gym as an example for a back handspring. "See how much power they have?" Gabby said. My daughter was beaming. An Olympic gymnast, one of her idols, complimented one of her skills. She was over the moon. A bunch of the gymnastics moms went into the photo booth with Gabby's mom. At the end, my daughter got a hug from her. It was an experience of a lifetime. All of my stress and exhaustion melted away. It made me so happy. 

After, we had dinner at Moes - just the two of us. She talked excitedly and we bonded. I dropped her off at home and I went to pick up my oldest from youth group. Hollister Boy was there, unexpectedly, so I took him home. My husband called me on my way home. "I need you. The cat is freaking out, the internet went out, I need some things so I can get my license renewed tomorrow." 

My husband always wants me around. The older we get, the worse it is. He needs to be in my vicinity. If I'm in the kitchen cooking, he will come in multiple times. To check in, to hug me. If I'm having coffee on the couch he will practically sit on top of me. I'll be like, "Can I get some personal space?" He will just look at me and be like, "No." If he wakes up before me, he doesn't like it. If he's awake, he wants me to be awake. I can go to bed before him but he will never go to bed before me.  He will NEVER admit it, but it's true. 

"I'll be home in 5 minutes. Also, I already pulled out your passport, social security card, birth certificate, mortgage statement and electric bill. They are all together on the counter. Calm down." I come in and we gave the cat his medicine. I threw in a load of laundry, took a shower and then crawled into bed with my husband. I was so damn tired. 

I was awakened at midnight by the cat CRYING and scratching at the door. My husband groaned. "He's been doing that for hours." He was not due for medicine. He just wanted out of the closet. I grabbed a comforter. "I'll go be with him." I made a pallet on the closet floor and laid down. The cat was miserable with his cone but he walked over, curled up next to me and sighed. I pet him and he finally stopped crying, settled in, and fell asleep. He's one of my kids. When my girls don't feel good, they want me with them. Apparently, the cat too. So I slept on the floor of my closet, with the cat. 

My husband woke me up at 6:30. My back hurt like a bitch. I did not sleep well. I am too old to be sleeping on the floor. I got up, fed the cat and went to make breakfast and lunch. My husband is working from home 2 days a week now so he logged into his computer and I did the middle school and high school drop off. Then I had to go to the bank and the grocery store. I got home and unloaded the groceries and made lunch. My husband came down and helped. He held up a bottle of sparking moscato that I brought. It was $4. "What did you get this for?" he asked. I looked him straight in the eye and replied, "For my sanity." 

I went upstairs to do the laundry before I had to pick up the kids and the cat is acting crazy again trying to get out of the cone- rolling on his incision. He is miserable. We can't do this for 2 weeks. We looked up alternatives for to a cone. A onesie. A onsie will work. 

I went to Once Upon a Child before I went to pick up the kids. I'm going through the onesie bins to find one that will work and I hold one up and it reads, FULL OF GIGGLES. I am deliriously tired and imagining my fat ass, miserable, grumpy cat in a FULL OF GIGGLES onesie was just too much for me. I started laughing hysterically. I am laughing so hard, so uncontrollably standing at the onesie bins that I am crying. There were tears rolling down my face. Everyone stops and looks at me like I am insane. I am insane at that point. I didn't care who was looking, zero f*cks were given. I finally collected myself and paid for the onesies. The sales girl thought I was nuts. hahaha. 

I picked up the kids from school, then came home and put the onesie on the cat. He was so much happier and he can't get to his incision. Plus, he looked cute as hell. 

The end of the week was almost near. We had almost made it. I picked up my kid from gymnastics and she volunteered to sleep in the closet with the cat. I love her. I slept a full 8 hours in my own bed. It was amazing.  

The next morning my youngest had an orthodontist appointment for a retainer check. The orthodontist has a new partner. He examined my daughter. "This tooth needs to come out. I need you to wiggle it a lot."

"Don't worry. I have a pair of pliers at home," I interjected. He looked at me like I was a giant asshole. I forget that not everyone appreciates my dry sense of humor. I appreciate it though, and that's what really matters. 

I went home and cleaned the sh*t out of my house. I caught up on all my laundry. I picked up the kids and made an easy dinner and then I dropped my oldest off to ship away to youth group camp for the weekend. I sat down on the couch and I reflected on the craziness. 

I decided that I will not take on anything else until after Thanksgiving. I will only honor my current commitments that have been made. I'm not volunteering for anything extra, I'm turning down invitations, I am going to spend some time reflecting and resting and recuperating. December through the New Year will be insanely busy so I NEED to take care of myself and refill my cup. 

I got a text from my girlfriend this morning:

                                 

I'm going to make myself lunch and that's what I'm doing - I'm drinking wine in my bathtub. Candles and bubbles and the whole shabang. Then I'm going to play a mindless game on my phone. I'm going to take a nap. I'm making a seafood feast for dinner - salmon, crab cakes, shrimp, fresh asparagus. I'm going to make an easy lemon souffle with my youngest. We are going to curl on the couch in our pjs and watch movies and pet my cat in the onesie and do NOTHING. I'm not leaving the house. YESSSSSSSSSSSSS.

                              

The Housewife

                              
So, I quit my job. Which, let's face it - was not a big deal. I worked ONE day a week. Sometimes I would pick up extra during the week when my kids were at school. I did work one Saturday a month. I worked 32-40 hours a month. I would generally work every Sunday but it became an issue as I would never leave work on time, my husband's role at work changed, it was hard for us to ever do anything on the weekends as I would have to be up early on Sunday. It just wasn't working for us, so I prayed a lot about it and I ultimately felt like it would be best to take my Sundays back.

So I went from being employed to 8 hours a week to 0 hours a week. Not a huge adjustment. I haven't worked during the week in about 3 years. It's just easier. My husband has a job that is not flexible, he travels, he sometimes has to work weekends, he takes call after hours one week out of the month AND he's in school. He doesn't have time for any domestic work. He definitely helps where he can but as much as possible, I try to take the stress of off him.

I really don't feel like the term "stay at home mom" fits me because I don't take care of kids all day. I have a high schooler and middle schooler. I hate the term "housewife". I'm probably somewhere in-between stay-at-home-mom and housewife. I'm like the Director of Support Services. Or maybe I don't need a special term to make me feel important.

This weekend, I went to a wine party and the lady who was selling it was telling her story and she was talking about how she quit her job to stay home with her 4 kids and how she was so BORED and isolated. I thought- Bored?!?!?! How can you be bored with 4 kids and a husband? Literally just the meal making, laundry and driving around is a full time job.

I thought about this when I got up yesterday. People will ask me how I fill my time. Sometimes I give a snarky reply - I sing to my cat, take naps, play Candy Crush, drink wine and watch movies.....hahaha. That sounds AMAZING. No, most of my days look something like this- this was yesterday:

When the alarm goes off at 6:15 in the morning, my husband gets up to take a shower and get ready for work. I get up (no, just because I stay home DOES NOT mean that I sleep in), I make the bed, I feed the cat, I check the 12 year old and make sure she's up, I let the dog out. I brew coffee and I make breakfast. My hubby and I are modified-keto so I always make some kind of cooked eggs and a protein - so breakfast sausage, or bacon, or sliced avocado and a fruit. My youngest will get toast with hers. While breakfast is cooking - I make my husband lunch. Something healthy, balanced and packed with protein. I sit down and have breakfast with the two of them.

Then, is my relaxing time of the day. I sit on the couch for 25 minutes and drink my coffee and scroll through Facebook and read the news. Then at 7:40 - I get up and fix a hot breakfast for the high schooler. She loves herbal tea, so I'll brew a cup of tea and fix her lunch. A little less healthy than my husband's, but balanced. We leave at 8:10, I pick up 2 of her friends on the way, drop them off at the high school, get home shortly before 9.

As soon as I get home, I let the dog out again, I unloaded the dishwasher, I loaded the breakfast dishes, wiped down the counters, I threw a load of laundry in the washer, I cleaned out the litter box, I wiped down the bathroom sinks, I swept the downstairs. Then I had to do my grocery shopping. I stopped at the Dollar Store and picked up some last minute Halloween stuff, I had to run to Walmart and get some liquid stitch and sewing tape because I need to hem my daughter's dress for an event on Friday, then I went to the grocery store. I got home and unloaded everything. It was shortly after noon.

I fixed myself lunch, as I ate, I had eggs boiling on the stove and bratwurst in a skillet for my husband's lunch for the following day. I put away the groceries, and packed a snack for my daughter for gymnastics. I prepped a taco soup for dinner and put it in the slow cooker, I went upstairs and threw a load of laundry into the dryer, then went to take a shower.

I'm about to step in the shower and and my phone pops up that my oldest daughter is typing me in SNAPCHAT. Oh God. If my kids text me in the middle of the day, it usually means something is wrong.

KID: Momma. I think I'm having an allergic reaction. My lip is really swollen and itchy and burning.

Knowing that she has a flair for the dramatic, I ask her to text me a picture. She does, and sure enough, it looks like she is having an allergic reaction to something. I text her a barrage of questions: Do you know what triggered it? Did you use a new lip product, eat something new, get a bug bite? No. I'm trying to figure out how serious this is. Is she going to go into anaphalaxsis or is this just a contact reaction?

ME: Do you have any burning, tingling or swelling in your tongue and throat?
HER: I don't know.
              
My kids REFUSE to go to the nurse. They could text me a picture of their finger cut off and blood spurting out and they'd be like, "MOM! My finger got cut off. Will you come get me?"
And I'm like, "OH MY GOD! Your finger is cut off! Go to the nurse, call 911. Do something!" and they'll reply, "Nah, It's not that bad. I'll wait for you. Just come quick if you can." Drives me crazy.

So by my powers of deduction, I figure out she is not at immediate risk of dying. I take a quick shower, run to the store to pick up non-drowsy antihistamine, pick her up from school about an hour early, medicate her. Then, we went to drop off her band fee money, ran to the gas station to put gas in the car, picked up kid 2 from the middle school and dropped her off at gymnastics, looped back around to the high school to pick up her friend who was supposed to go to a band concert with us that evening.

We went home, I fixed dinner, fed the dog and cat. Kissed the husband when he walked through the door. Went upstairs and put the second load from the washer into the dryer. Then, we left and went to the concert. I love watching my daughter play her flute. It was great. Got home around 8:15 as my husband was walking through the door from picking up my youngest from gymnastics.

I heated up her dinner and loaded the dishes while she ate and we chatted about her evening. She showed me a bruise she got during practice and talked about school. She went upstairs to take a shower and I fixed cocktails for my husband and I and we lit a fire and sat on the back porch and talked about our day. It was a cool night and as often as possible we try to get porch time to re-connect. He told me about his day and we chatted about upcoming events. We played Celtic radio and just enjoyed our time.

We went in after half and hour, my youngest asked for some assistance with her homework so I sat down and did that. Then I went upstairs, took the second load from the dryer. I washed my face and brushed my teeth and crawled into bed around 10.

That is somewhat a typical day in my life. I generally have 5 hours of kid-free time during the day. Once a week I do the grocery shopping, once a week I mow the lawn and weed eat, one day a week I mop and do the bathrooms and wash all the linens....I always have extra things. This week I'm hemming a dress and throwing a Halloween party and today I made alterations to my daughter's Halloween costume while I sipped a cup of coffee and chatted with a good friend.

Someone always has a doctors appointment, or orthodontist appointment, or therapist appointment or an allergic reaction, sprained ankle, broken finger, the common cold....seriously this week is the first week NO ONE had some kind of medical appointment. But we have 2 next week.

Once a month I have lunch with my youngest daughter at the middle school. She picks the meal and the day. I volunteer here and there. I attend awards ceremonies and pay the bills and take the cars to have the oil changed, replace the tires and everything else.

I have a list of things to be done when I get to them- the baseboards in the dining room need to be repainted as does the mailbox post. There is some landscaping work to be done in my front yard and I need to re-screen our window screens, get rid of things in the garage. Those are the things that will get done one-by-one, when and if I have the time.

If I need time to myself, I take time. If it's been especially hectic I will schedule a massage or spend an hour in a bubble bath in the middle of the day or take a nap, or just lay on the couch and watch a movie, have breakfast or coffee with friends.  It's not often- not weekly but I do it if I need to. And I don't feel ONE OUNCE of guilt.

Am I bored? No. Never. Am I busy? Sure. But I can't complain because working parents have to do EVERYTHING that I do ON TOP of working a full time job. I know that my life is not hard AT ALL. I know that it is a HUGE luxury to be able to stay home and support my family and spend time with my kids. I feel gratitude every day.

I have been a full time working parent and it is HARD. I never did it well. I could never achieve the work-life balance that I desired. I always felt like I was falling short in every area of my life. As women, we are supposed to "lean in" to our jobs but also be there for our kids and make sure we spend quality time with them, and cook nutritious meals, and keep a clean house, and work out, and get 8 hours of sleep, and f*ck our husbands multiple times a week, and maintain relationships for friends and family and be happy and put together. Is this what it means to "have it all"? It's a damn trap is what it is.

I'll never forget when I was working full time for the State and I picked up my kids from aftercare at 5:15 in the evening. I had forgotten to pull something out of the freezer for dinner so I stopped somewhere to grab dinner on the way home. I walked through the front door and the breakfast dishes were still on the table, my floors were filthy, my bed was unmade, there was mold growing in the corner of my shower, dust was on every surface, there was a pile of laundry in the hallway. I was so behind on the housework, so tired, I hadn't spent quality time with my husband in weeks, what I really wanted to do was just hang out with my kids. I was failing. I was tired of resenting my husband for not helping more. I had a breakdown.

"We are paying someone to clean the house once a week!" I declared to my husband. I needed that for my sanity. He didn't argue with me. He completely agreed. He could see my struggle. So how did I do it all when I was working full time? I didn't. I paid someone to clean my house once a week, I paid someone to watch my kids, I paid someone to mow my lawn and I spent almost as much as my mortgage eating out. I SUCK at managing my life. I was tired. I could not do it all.

When the kids were sick it was the worst. It'd be a random Thursday and we'd get up and get ready for work and one of the kids would wake up with a fever. It usually went something like this:

Me: Kid 1 has a 101 fever. One of us is going to need to stay home with her.
Husband: Well, I can't because I'm leading the team meeting this afternoon.
Me: Well, I have a speaking engagement at a conference in Columbia. I cannot no-show to it.
Husband: Uggggh. I'll reschedule my meeting but I CANNOT miss two days in a row. You have to take off tomorrow.
Me: Okay.

There would be arguments about who's job was more important that the others. Sometimes we would both take a half day so that we didn't miss a whole day. We were lucky-  we've always had paid time off but a lot of parents don't. It was difficult during those years.

The world is not designed for working parents. Everything is during the day. Awards ceremonies, school events. Kids bring home field trip permission slips a week before. Guess what- if you're a nurse you have to have your schedule approved a month in advance. There is no chaperoning your kid's field trips. Your kid wants to do an after school activity? They need to be picked up. My kids both did chorus in elementary school and needed to be picked up at 3 pm. My husband took his lunch at 3 pm to pick up the kids so they could participate. My youngest needs to be at gymnastics at 4 pm everyday. Many working parents cannot do this. Many working parents have to say "no" to activities that their kids might enjoy or might enrich them because it just does not work with their schedule. Working parents get f*cked all the time.

I've always been fortunate to work jobs where I had flexibility. Even when I had a job where I traveled, I worked from home 50% of the time and I could make my own schedule. I was fortunate that I never had to miss anything. I volunteered a lot and we made huge sacrifices to make sure we spent enough quality time with them. It was SO HARD. I was SO TIRED.

When I got laid off from my job 4 years ago, I took a year off from work to re-charge. It was great. I had a clean house. I spent a LOT of time with the kids. Every Monday I volunteered in my daughter's 3rd grade classroom. It was a time of recovery and rediscovery and I was fortunate to be able to have that time. After a year I went back to work in outside sales and marketing. I was fortunate to have flexibility but it became difficult again. As my oldest daughter began to navigate the tumultuous world of middle school it became clear to both of us that I needed to dedicate my time to the family. Plus, my husband's role changed at work and it involved more travel. "The kids need you here," he said to me. He was right.

I've been fortunate that every time I've ever lost or left a job it's been in combination of a job change or some sort of promotion for my husband. I have always felt strongly that God will provide and he has.

So, here I am again. I feel good about it. Last week I had a lunch date with my husband and we were chatting about me quitting my job and he reminded me, "It's just a few years." He is right. These are the last years with them before they become adults. It is an important time. I could not ask for a better man. He truly values me and he tells me all the time, "You do too much." If the kids ever say anything about me not working or just working 1 day a week he'll chime in and say, "Your mom works just as hard as me." If I mention that I'm spending all his money he reminds me, "It's OUR money."

People will ask if he gives me money and I laugh. There is no allowance. We always pool our money regardless of what my employment status is, always have. Even when we were in high school. We budget together and it's not an issue. Not that it matters, after the bills are paid, all the rest basically goes to the kids.

So, right now I am only a mom. That doesn't mean that I think that a woman's role is in the home. If she feels strongly that her role is in the home- then she should be there. If a woman feels like her role is in the workplace then she should be there. Having the option is a huge privilege. Many women don't have a choice one way or the other.

People need to do what works best for them. As my kids needs have changed we have adjusted our lifestyles to those needs. In 2 years, when my youngest is in high school and my oldest is driving - maybe I'll go back to work. Maybe I'll go back when my husband is done school. Maybe I'll wait until my youngest graduates. Maybe I'll work from home. Maybe I'll write a book. I don't know what the future holds but I do know that it is bright and that the universe is full of abundance and that I won't regret the time I've spent with my children.

And to the working parents out there- just know you are doing the best that you can, don't beat yourself up if you miss awards, know that it's okay to use paper plates and to let the clothes live in the dryer, y'all are the true MVPs and you have my utmost respect.