Raw

I suppose I should begin this post with another disclaimer to let you know this is soul-bearing, raw, and completely honest.  It's somewhat cathartic, although I know it really won't fix anything.  And I know this is a side of things some people will say shouldn't be shown to the public, but...

I sat on the floor in the bathroom last night at 11 o’clock and leaned against the bathroom sink and just cried.  Sobbed, really.  I think I need a break.  A real one.  One where I'm not worrying about my kids and if they're okay or what they’re thinking, doing, saying, eating, if they’re warm and comfortable or need me.  One where I’m not worrying about cleaning my house or figuring out what to put into a yard sale or about keeping up appearances or saying the right thing.  One where I can have the squishy floor in the bathroom fixed without breaking a sweat over finances.  One where I don’t have to worry about money or how I’m going to put gas in my car so I can get to work or where I don’t have to scrounge around for something to take for my own lunch so the kids can have a decent lunch at school.  One where I wish I could be truly selfish, just for once.  One where I don't have to worry about getting up if I'd rather sleep until noon.  One where no friends are dying and where people aren't saying or doing hurtful things.  One where if I ask someone to do something they'll do it, with no questions asked and I won't have to repeat myself.  One where when I say something, it will actually be heard and no one will later say, “You never told me that!”

I guess I'm just tired in my body and in my soul.

I wish I didn't have to be ON all the time.  That I didn't have to force myself not to cry at work when my "upset" has nothing to do with work.

I don't think the tears are done yet.

Bear with me.

TTFN

JMS

The Boob Bus

Fact: My mother died from breast cancer which had metastasized to other areas (bone, lung) when I was fifteen years old.

Fact: I’m having a mammogram screening on Wednesday at the Mobile Mammography Unit (Boob Bus) which will be at my office.

Fact: I’m terrified.

I’m terrified that I’ll hear those dreaded words, “You’ve got Cancer.”  I dealt with a cancer scare nearly three years ago when they removed my thyroid, so what’s to say that I’m not going to hear the same thing, now?  The Big C.

I’m terrified that I’ll wind up leaving my kids the way my mom left me. 

I’m terrified that my kids will grow up without me.  That I won’t be part of their lives; to see them graduate, get jobs, get married, have babies.  That they’ll be treated differently when their friends learn about what poor, motherless children they are.

I know I’m projecting.  I know I need to get out of my own head.  I talked with my best friend, who has an uncanny way of finding the one thing that will make me feel better when I’m hyper-emotional.  She said, “Honey, you’re getting your boobs squished on a bus!  I think you need to save the anxiety for if they find something and then have to go in with a needle!”  Of course, the whole boobs-squished-on-a-bus comment made me laugh, so then I felt better.  Mostly. 

There’s still anxiety in there.  And really, no woman really likes this part of being female.  But, though I do feel better about the actual exam, I still could use all the thoughts, prayers, and good vibes you can send my way.

TTFN

JMS

It all happened so fast

You know how they say when you’re in danger, everything becomes really clear?  Well, I can attest to that now.  And that “it all happened so fast” statement is also true.  This morning, while driving to work in all the leftover slush and snow, on badly-plowed roads, I did something I’d never done before, and honestly, it all happened so fast I’m not 100% sure how it happened.  The entire incident, start to finish, took about 30 seconds.

Anyway – there I was…driving to work, on a road I travel every day.  On a good day, the speed limit on that road is 40 (maybe 45, I can’t remember right now) mph.  I was going maybe 30 mph, tops.  Like I said, the roads were pretty sloppy and I’m pretty careful.  I think I hit a pothole (that, of course, I couldn't see because it was covered with the slushy mess) and suddenly the back end of my car is slowly spinning around like it’s trying to do-si-do with the front end of my car. 

I took my foot off the accelerator, left the brake pedal alone and I remember clearly thinking, “Steer into the skid, steer into the skid” – trying to recall my driver’s education training.  And then it was over.  I was facing the wrong direction completely stopped in the median.  

In my next moment of clarity I thought, “Threat assessment!  Where are you?”  I looked up and took note that this normally busy road was completely and totally empty.  There was not another driver to be seen and I was on one of the straight-away stretches!  What luck!  If this had happened on any regular morning (which I doubt it would have) the danger at that point would have been getting tagged by another car.  

I thought, “If I’m not actually stuck here (which was a distinct possibility), I should be able to reverse and get myself out of here.”  And that’s exactly what I did.  I popped it into reverse, tapped on the gas and my car responded right away.  I turned around the right way and continued on to work; myself and my car no worse for the wear.  I was shaken up, yes – but totally unharmed.  And yes, I still had a cup of coffee when I got to work.

This little incident isn’t going to deter me from driving to work in similar conditions, though admittedly, it might have if this had happened ten years ago.  I know now, in a situation like that, I can keep my cool and not flip out.

Go me.

TTFN

JMS

Throwing snowballs at memories

All this snow and ice and wind and all the school closings and being around my kids, watching them react to everything, has brought me back, time and time again, to childhood and growing up in the North.

This morning, while listening to Pandora and Depeche Mode Radio (yup...still stuck on it), Pet Shop Boys were singing about West End Girls and I thought of my younger brother. A few days ago, he'd sent me (and boy-child) an email with a link to that song's video on YouTube. Apparently any time my brother hears music like that he thinks of me. So just a little while ago, when it came on Pandora, I sent him a text message just to say hello.

So, I guess you're probably wondering (besides the obvious) what one has to do with the other. Simply that one of my strongest memories of winter and childhood and North is the time that my brother and I (and a couple neighborhood kids, if I remember correctly) got it into our heads that it was a good idea to throw snowballs at passing cars...after dark. I don't remember who came up with the idea, and it doesn't matter, but we had fun. For all of about one minute.

One of the cars that received a barrage of snowballs stopped short in the middle of the street and the driver came flying out – FURIOUS – and chased us through the neighborhood. I remember being absolutely terrified that he'd catch us and it made me sick to think about how much trouble we would get in. I don't remember what happened to the other kids we were with, but I vaguely recall hiding in the bushes until the very angry driver man went away. It's all kind of a blur, actually. But my brother and I made it home safe and sound.

I don't really remember if our parents ever found out about that and I suppose, all these years later, it doesn't make any difference. The things we do as kids define us, in some way, as adults and I am sure, beyond a doubt, that was the first time I ever feared being caught for doing something I knew, deep down, probably wasn't a good idea. Which is probably why I never got into too much trouble growing up and in teenage years, and in my young adult life. Fear.

Oh, believe me, I had plenty of opportunities to get into a TON of trouble, but somehow I managed to keep myself together and stay out of it. I'm lucky. My life could have turned out so differently if I'd been even slightly less fearful of things.

It's interesting to me that as an adult I've shed a lot of my old fears and, in some cases, formed brand new ones; especially where my children are concerned. I fear for their health, well-being and safety more than anything else. It's the reason I get so upset when boy-child does something downright stupid and risks his own safety. I know, I know, boys do stupid things and at some point all of my fear for his safety and well-being isn't going to amount to a hill of beans and yes, he's going to have to learn his own lessons. But maybe, just maybe, while he's still young, I can instill some awareness in him that will protect him in some way when he's older?

I don't know. I'm sure he'll have his own throwing-snowballs-at-passing-cars-after-dark-and-being-chased-by-a-mad-man moment, but hopefully it will only serve to make him a better, more thoughtful person. I still haven't quite figured out what it did to me.

TTFN

JMS

Things that make you go EEEW!

We all have our things – things which might disturb us on a much, much deeper level than the obvious ick factor of said thing.  For example, for me, the word Moist is a serious EEEW!  Yes, we all know what the word means (well…I hope you know what it means) but aside from explaining the general dampness factor…well, actually, that’s kind of EEEW, too.  ((shudder))  OK – moving on.

Then there’s the whole getting-your-mouth-as-close-to-the-water-fountain-spout-as-possible-while-not-actually-touching-it thing.  There are folks who really must believe, in the deepest recesses of their minds, that the closer their mouths are to the spout, the fresher (maybe colder?) the water they’re drinking will be.  Not to mention the germy-er.   I mean, come on!  Have you ever really LOOKED at a water fountain spout while you’re drinking from it?  They’re gross!  Even if they’re cleaned regularly, there’s always some kind of gooey residue around the spigot.  It’s brown, or pink, or sometimes even greenish and I’m sorry, but there’s NO WAY you’re getting me close to that thing.  EEEW!

And ladies, let’s not forget the Fuzzy Bath.  (Guys – feel free to check out for a minute.  You may rejoin the conversation in the next paragraph.)  The Fuzzy Bath happens when a woman gets it into her head that a hot bath, maybe a book, a glass of wine (hm…) and possibly a candle or two is a wonderful idea, and possibly even necessary for survival or sanity.  (We’ve all been there.)  After a good soak, one thinks, Hm…I suppose I should shave my legs.  So, razor and soap (or gel shaving cream, if you prefer) in hand one begins the deforestation process.  After a while, you realize you’re sitting in a soupy miasma of soap or shaving cream residue, plus leg fur.  I’m sorry – I cannot continue.  A shower is then required to not only clean oneself, but also clean out the tub.

There’s also:

·         The Tub-Drain Fur-Ball

·         Vomit (of any kind, human or animal)

·         Breast-fed baby poop (sorry, truth)

·         Poop, in general.  Especially sidewalk poop.  Especially stepped-in sidewalk poop.

·         The Unknown Food Origin (UFO) from the Tupperware container in the fridge that you’re pretty sure was, at one point, solid, yet is now a liquid.  This requires simply throwing out the Tupperware container as it is no longer salvageable. 

·         Snot.  Especially wall-snot.  This occurs when young children dig for gold and then wipe on the nearest vertical surface.  It’s shiny.  Like dried egg yolk or high-gloss paint.

For my son, he says that the word Poop is his EEEW!  He also tacked on his extreme dislike for wet, squishy socks.  My daughter and husband both voted for vomit being their EEEW!  Oh - the list could go on and on.  And now that you're thoroughly grossed out...

TTFN
JMS

When is Early Too Early?

There’s been a story out of Maryland about a couple, parents who let their children walk a mile home from the park – alone.  I was asked yesterday what I thought about that particular news tidbit and I really had to struggle to answer.  I may lose some of my beloved readers over this, but please remember, you’re here precisely because you want to know what I think. ;)

While I understand what these parents are trying to do (teach responsibility and give their kids a modicum of freedom) I do not believe that at 10 years and 6 years old, those kids are quite ready for that kind of freedom and responsibility.  Had they allowed their kids to walk home “alone” by staying about 50 feet behind them, then maybe the semblance of being alone may have been enough for these young children.  And maybe it would have been enough for the parents to feel like they had accomplished what they’d set out to do.  And maybe the police wouldn't have packed these little kiddos into their cruiser and this whole thing could have been avoided.

I think about how my kids are very similar in age to the two children in the story.  And then I think, “What would I do?”  Well, I’m sorry, but it wouldn't have happened to begin with.  I trust my kids, and I trust that if they said, “We’re just going to go from this place to this place,” they would do exactly that.  It’s other people I don’t trust.  The mother in the story said, “The world is actually even safer than when I was a child, and I just want to give them the same freedom and independence that I had — basically an old-fashioned childhood.”  And while on the surface that sounds logical and reasonable, it’s B.S. if you ask me.  Yeah – we got kicked out of the house and told, “Go play!  Come back when the street lights come on or when you hear me whistle, whichever comes first.”  And we’d go collect our friends and take advantage of that great invention called Outside.  But I really do believe that my ten year old is too young to wander around on his own. 

Sometimes they walk two houses down to see if the neighbor girl can play for a bit, and yeah – admittedly – it makes me nervous.  But then for the most part, they play in our back yard.  It used to make me a nervous wreck to allow the kids to hit the restroom at a restaurant by themselves, and when they were really little, we absolutely went with them to make sure things like hand-washing happened.  But now that they’re older, it doesn’t bug me as much.  I let my son take the small inside recycle bin outside to the big recycle bin at the curb all by himself.  He’s good about it.  I trust him.

It’s other people I don’t trust.

And while we’re on the subject of my son being able to do certain things – I have decided the kid is now old enough to do his own laundry.  Hey – if you want to teach responsibility, there’s an excellent place to begin.  This started when on Thursday night, at bedtime, he says, “Mom, you've gotta do my laundry.  I don’t have any clean clothes.”  And my brain seized up.  I felt my eye twitch.  I gave him that Mom look that every mother perfects within the first two years of the life of her child.   And he knew he’d said something wrong.  He said, “Well, I think I can probably find something.  Never mind.”

Wise child.

Then this morning, before church, he said, “Mom!  You’ve really gotta do my laundry!”  Well I’d had it.  I showed him an entire top bunk bed full of clean, folded (mostly) clothes that had yet to get put away.  Yes, he’s got the three or four things that he really loves to wear and when they’re all dirty that means he has no clothes to wear.  (sigh)  So I showed him this pile, said, “I’m sure you can find something there.  And later this afternoon, I am going to show you how to do your own laundry.  That way, when you have no clean clothes, it’s all on you kiddo.”

Then I was the recipient of the withering look.

Anyway – my point of all this is yes, I think those parents who allowed their kids to walk home alone were wrong, even though I understand why they did it.  Those children are just too young.  Give it a couple more years and maybe, just maybe, it wouldn’t be such a big deal.

TTFN
JMS

A moment of brutal honesty

In chatting online with a long-time friend last night, I came to some conclusions that I may not really have arrived at if not given an opportunity to actually think about them. In a moment of brutal honesty, I'd like to share with you the following conversation. My friend's name has been omitted, though I will say that she was the guidance counselor at my high school years and years ago and knew me when I was, quite literally, at my absolute worst emotionally.

GC

This is totally off subject but someday, when you have time and feel like it, I would love it if you could talk to me about what was going on with you in high school, and how you overcame whatever it was that was making you so so unhappy, What worked to help you? and what didn't. I am so proud of the life you have made for yourself, but I would really like for you to talk about what turned you around- if you can and want to.

ME

I can tell you right now. It was a combination of having lost my mom at 15, my dad having remarried too soon to a woman who slapped me across the face and told me to get the F out of her house, living with a grandmother who had not one clue about how to raise a teenager in "modern" times and not being allowed to do anything with friends that a normal teenager would do.

GC

So how did you find your way, instead of going to the dark side?

ME

I really don't know. I guess it was probably because I was afraid to become like those around me? Fear was a great motivator for me back then. It's also the reason I never got into drugs or alcohol in any real way. Fear. I was afraid to get caught. Afraid to become something less than I could be. Afraid of becoming like my alcoholic/abusive father or simply horrible step mother. Or of being so out of touch with reality or modern day society that I didn't understand things. I was afraid of not performing to the absolute best of my ability. I think fear was probably - at that time in my life - a major player.

As I grew older, wiser - whatever - I overcame a lot of those fears and have learned to be stronger for overcoming them.

For example (and maybe not the best one) the day I drove on the highway for the first time - all by myself - was a HUGE thing. I was TERRIFIED of driving on the highway. My mom was afraid of it and so was my grandmother so I probably picked that fear up from them. When I moved to Tennessee, and took a job in Knoxville, for a long time I was able to get to and from work just driving back roads. Taking the long way around, which was stupid and a waste of time, energy and money. So, one day I decided that I'd just get on the highway and go one exit down. Just one. And I did that. I was terrified, but I did it anyway. And I did that every day until I was totally comfortable with it. Then I moved another exit down and so on until one day I was driving all the way to work on the highway. Then the big test was driving all by myself to South Carolina (Greeneville) to pick up my husband. I was cured. But again, it was a FEAR that drove me. No pun intended.

GC

I'm thinking your mom did a pretty good job when you were young. Somewhere you learned to put one foot in front of the other. I am sorry you were so afraid.

ME

I was afraid that if I didn't learn how to drive on the highway that I'd box myself into a certain kind of life and maybe affect my own children. Project my own fears on them. I still struggle with that some days, but my kids are not (thankfully) afraid of much.

GC

You are a masterpiece

ME

LOL! Hardly. I struggle every day to keep myself together. But now, I do it not for myself - I do it for my family. For those that rely on me. My life has never, ever, truly been MINE. It's always belonged to someone else, been ruled by someone else, or something else (fear). But thank you.

GC
Well, your life will become your own, with time. In the meantime, you seem to be raising amazing children. That is a pretty important thing and when you are my age, you will cherish that as a wonderful life production. Having pride in your children is priceless, though you should certainly have pride in yourself!!!!

And not a part of that conversation, but in closing of this post, I do have pride in myself.  Most of the time. I'm working on it.  A little bit.  Every day.  And some days it's a lot harder than others.  But the good definitely outweighs the bad now, and for that I am so very thankful.

TTFN
JMS