Tag Archives: single parent

Cautionary Tale

13 Feb

on October 26, 2014, my life changed in a way I truly never thought it would, I knew it COULD but like so many other carefree 44-year olds, I thought I was immortal.  I knew that I had health risks that made me more susceptible to having a stroke than most  other people and I also knew that I didn’t take care of myself the way I should have but this is all said in hindsight while I type with one hand because my left hand has not fully regained movement, especially fine motor skills. I had an Ischemic stroke which occurs as a result of an obstruction within a blood vessel supplying blood to the brain. It accounts for 87 percent of all stroke cases.It affected the right side of my brain therefore the left side of my body, that’s the way it works, the side of your brain affected is opposite the side of your body affected. I never lost the ability to speak, and was walking within days in the ICU. my arm mobility was good as far as being able to move it up and down but my hand didn’t come back until December or so. The cause of my stroke was largely due to just not taking care of myself, I have to take medicine called Warfarin also known as Coumadin because I have a titanium heart valve and atrial fibrillation. because of this medication, I need to have regular blood tests to monitor the INR level in my blood. Coumadin is a very finicky drug and its affects can be lessened or heightened by the amount of Vitamin K ingested. Blood tests are required to determine if the correct INR level is being reached or if your diet and/or dosage of Coumadin should be adjusted. I stopped monitoring my Coumadin because it was nearly impossible to work full time, be a divorced mom and get blood tests regularly. 

Prothrombin time is measured in seconds. Most of the time, results are given as what is called INR (or international normalized ratio). If you are taking warfarin to prevent blood clots, your doctor will most likely choose to keep your INR between 2.0 and 3.0.

The night of my stroke was the Sunday before my very favorite holiday, Halloween. I felt totally normal, maybe a little spacey, maybe I was drooling a little bit, but I was able to walk around and sort of talk, my 13-year old was worried and called 911. luckily. He recognized the signs of stroke from a commercial.

STROKE

Suddenly 5 EMTs were in my house to take me to the ER, I was covered in glitter because I had been working on my sweet sweet mermaid costume for Halloween. I would have loved to see video of myself drooling, black t-shirt tied around wet hair. like a turban because I had just gotten out of the shower and I read that a shirt was better for your hair than a towel to dry it. I must have looked and seemed literally crazy because the EMTs asked me if I had anti-psych meds and asked my kids if I was always like this – um, nope only when  having a stroke. I got to the ER and went through all the tests there to confirm that I was having a stroke and they determined what kind  and gave me a drug they told me would break up the clot. so I spent a week in the hospital and then went on to spend 2 weeks in an inpatient rehab where I had extensive therapies, physical, occupational and speech.

I’ve been told I’m an inspiration, I have a joke in my set that starts, “being a divorced 40- something single mom  living in a college town, I have often thought of writing my memoirs titled “Cautionary Tale”, if I’m an inspiration at all be inspired to take care of yourself so you don’t end up having to be inspirational and you can just live your damn life as healthily and as  long as possible, I feel like a fraud because often the past several months all I’ve wanted to do is lie in bed and eat Ben & Jerry’s ice cream but it wasn’t an option, my mom, sister and 200 other people including my two kids would never have let that go down.Be inspired by selfless people who do for others.

I have made enough mistakes to last a lifetime but I won’t beat myself up over this most recent one, anymore. I have learned from it and I am 22 lbs lighter since leaving rehab where I inexplicably managed to gain 4 lbs, while barely eating and exercising regularly.

My life will definitely be different from now on but different doesn’t automatically = terrible. I’m pretty excited about the changes, even though stroke is the number 1 cause of acquired disability in the country, I am not fully disabled, I am left with the deficits in my left hand and some cognitive issues, though when I told a close male friend that I am now extremely forgetful, cannot multi-task, and don’t have an attention to detail he told me he’s been like that his whole life, so yet another way I am stereo-typically male. I cannot return to work full-time but will be returning to work with children, on a part-time basis,  which is truly what made me the happiest in my professional life. I am taking the state mandated training online so when I am ready to find a job I shouldn’t have any problem. Its hard for me to buckle my belt which has become necessary because of the weight loss, so between my pants not staying up and the brain damage, I could have a new career in politics. I am seriously looking into designing an app for me and the other 3 million people on Coumadin, that tracks and logs vitamin K intake. My life is far from over so be inspired by that not my recovery because that was mostly luck and stubborness.

I haqve been writing and performing stand-up comedy for about a year, I have written material from this experience that I hope is funny,(some of which is in this post) I have no affect in my voice (meaning I sound pretty robotic) and my timing is terrible but my number one goal is  to get back up on stage.

Tomorrow is valentines day and I am valentine-less again this year but I have 3 gorgeous rented dresses hanging in my closet and tomorrow I will choose one and put it on and go to a fancy event called the Heart Ball where I am volunteering for the American Stroke Association and the past several months have shown me that I am absolutely surrounded by love every day of the year.

valentines day

Happy Galentine’s Day AND Happy Valentine’s Day

13 Feb

Tomorrow is Valentine’s Day and today is, from what I understand, Galentine’s Day.  What, prey tell is Galentine’s Day? Galentine’s Day is from an episode of “Parks and Recreation”, a show starring the very talented and hilarious Amy Poehler as well as an equally talented and hilarious supporting cast including Nick Offerman (and his EPIC mustache), Aubrey Plaza, Aziz Ansari,  Rashida Jones, Chris Pratt, and Rob Lowe. See? Why aren’t more people watching this show? Including me actually since I don’t watch it on the regular either. I know, I suck, but in my defense I just now figured out how to program my DVR.

Anyway, Galentine’s Day is a day invented by Amy Poehler’s character Leslie Knope,  to celebrate the women in your life. It doesn’t matter if your gal-pals are married or otherwise attached, Galentine’s day is a day to let the gals in your life know that you love and appreciate them. Here is what Leslie Knope herself has to say about the day –

What’s Galentine’s Day? Oh, it’s only the best day of the year. Every February 13th, my lady friends and I leave our husbands and our boyfriends at home, and we just come and kick it, breakfast-style. Ladies celebrating ladies. It’s like Lillith Fair, minus the angst. Plus frittatas.

Sounds like fun! I am extremely fortunate to have an excellent support system of women near and far that I call friends. Some are family members, some have been my friend for over 30 years, some for not that long, some I haven’t even met in person but thanks to social media we have become friends. I share in their lives and they share in mine. They are my biggest cheerleaders and I know when I need anything, they are there. We have cried together, we have laughed together, we have gotten outraged together over my seemingly endless bad luck regarding relationships, and we have nervously laughed at my sometimes terrible decisions, because if WE can’t laugh about not being able to stop texting someone who clearly doesn’t want to be contacted simply because I think I thought of the PERFECT way to explain why I sent so many texts to him BEFORE, then who can?

So to my gal pals I say Happy Galentine’s Day! I love each and every one of you and I thank you for being there for me.

galentines

As for Valentine’s Day, I grew up with a father who felt it was important to give his daughters Valentine’s presents and/or candy and/or flowers and because of him, the day is much LESS about having a romantic relationship than it is to shower those you love with love, and a balloon or little box of Scooby Doo bubblegum balls (spoiler alert, that’s what my children are getting from me this year).

I have my fair share of stories of Valentine’s Day plans that went terribly awry. My personal favorite is when I was dating someone and we had plans for him to come to my house for dinner, this was when I was in my 20’s so when I say “my house” I really mean a crappy studio apartment. I searched all day for a heart-shaped baking pan and I made a delicious yellow cake and topped it with whipped cream and strawberries. Rick never showed up that night or called until the next day.  I don’t remember why he couldn’t come over, but I do remember that over the course of about 6 hours while waiting for him, I ate that entire cake with a fine white wine (just guessing since I don’t remember but it was probably from a box).

I’m not involved in a romantic relationship this Valentine’s Day, BUT I can guarantee you, I will feel loved and I will show love. I will be spending the day with my two favorite Valentines, my kids, and I will tell them that I love them, just as I do every day, and I will hug them a little tighter than usual and I will tell them that no matter what, their mom will always be their Valentine, and this will creep them out immensely, but hopefully when they are older they will carry on the tradition of looking at Valentine’s day as a day to show appreciation and love to everyone just a little more than they do every day, and that being single on Valentine’s Day is not a big deal.

And I may or may not, just for old time’s sake, eat a whole cake with some wine.

heart-shaped-cake

 

 

Never Fear…It Is STILL My Year

21 Jan

I am such a good planner that I went ahead and got the health issues and hospital stay out-of-the-way first thing in 2014.  Sometimes I amaze myself…with my own stupidity.

The congenital heart defect that led to heart surgery about 4 years ago that makes me tick (literally and figuratively I suppose) requires that I take blood thinners. Forever. Forever and ever. The amount of blood thinner in my blood must be monitored weekly by in my case a clinic that must be the busiest clinic in the south because every trip there from beginning to end, travel time included, is about 3 hours.   If my levels are relatively stable, the clinic visits go down to once a month. I never managed to be very stable and it felt like I was spending a lot of time at the clinic. I have learned through a series of bad decisions on my part that spending a lot of time at the clinic beats spending 2 nights and 3 days in the hospital, or any time at all in the hospital.

I don’t know if I am so terrified of committing to anything that I felt the need to break up with my medicine or if I really do think I’m invincible, but after hearing lots of stories from friends and loved ones about people who knew people who had a stroke after being off of their blood thinners for two days and stories of people who died, and 1 very curt doctor who had me in tears, and my sister who really could make lecturing her life’s work, I realized that no matter how busy I am, or the fact that I moved, or that it was the holidays, I can’t mess around with my health like that. While there is no doubt that I am fabulous, I am not immortal, and my kids deserve to have me around  to torture them with my long drawn out speeches about injustice in the world. They need me around to make more vision boards and badly sew pillowcases for them. I’m their mom, and there is only one of me. I want to be around for them and I want to be here to see them bring home their first girlfriend, or boyfriend, because whoever they are is who they are and of course I love and accept them, for whoever they are (at this point they would be screaming at me to give it a rest.)

In the spirit of near-death collisions, I have put up another profile on OKCupid.  The latest iteration of my profile has been up for about 36 hours, and I have received some interesting messages,  including one from a man who says he has a Master’s Degree, yet his profile is riddled with spelling errors. I mean, where did he type his profile that NO spell checks noticed that one of his favorite books, presumably Water for Elephants, is not Water for Ella Phants, unless Water for Ella Phants is a book about a woman named Ella Phants who lives in a desert and is on a quest for someone to bring her water, and in that case, color me red.

 

I have received two messages within 12 hours from the same man, who I guess thinks surely there was a computer glitch and I didn’t receive his first message because why would I NOT immediately write someone who took so much effort to not fill out anything on his profile and who sent a message telling me how much better my hair looks straight rather than curly. Thank you for your unwanted and absolutely unnecessary opinion, man whom I will never message.

My absolute favorite so far is the man who simply sent me a message saying “u don’t look fat”.  I presume I brought this on myself because in my profile I have the audacity to state that while I am not a tiny little person, I am “comfortable in my skin”. This translated to him that I was fishing for compliments I guess, and in his mind, the worst thing a woman can think of herself is that she is “fat”.  What I really want to put on my profile is “don’t worry, I will never ask you if my butt looks big in anything. I have SEEN my butt, it is fantastic, and looks big in everything.”

Ah online dating. Honestly, at least I get a lot of really hilarious and hilariously bad stories out of it.  Keeping an open mind. HEY, maybe I’ll meet someone at the clinic.

peace love joy

What the Hell? Christmas Edition

16 Dec

christmas

Before you balk at the title of this post,  I like Christmas. I like the food. I like Christmas specials. I like the songs, though if I never hear “Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer” ever again in my life, that will be fine with me.  I like to get presents, and I like to give presents.  I like that this time of year seems to make people want to give of themselves a little more than any other time. I like my family and I love spending time with them. Having said all that, there are a few things about this time of year that I just don’t understand.

Let’s start with what I find the most heinous of all Christmas-related phenomenon, Elf on a Shelf. I kid, I don’t find it the MOST heinous, and I will most definitely be writing about it shortly. However, without a doubt, what I find the most heinous is that big bucket of peppermint scented poop  known as black Friday. I understand the appeal of shopping on black Friday.  For several years on Thanksgiving I would peruse the sales flyers and outline my plan of attack for the next day. The next morning I would wake up at 4:00 am, grab myself an Egg McMuffin and a coffee, and dash into the Target or Toys R Us, or Joanne’s Fabrics, to pick up  whatever was on my list. I would save some money and get the boys some toys that I might not be able to without the black Friday sales.  I understand for a lot of people, they treat it the same way I did.

Now, this is why we can’t have nice things. Black Friday is now starting on Thanksgiving day, people are literally being attacked over sales items, and do you know the number one seller at Wal-Mart during black Friday this year? Towels. A mother fucking bunch of towels. Not that I don’t appreciate a luxurious 5 thread count cheap towel, but come ON. This might fall under the category of irrational anger, but dammit, I’m angry about it.

And yes, I understand that Christmas shouldn’t be about presents and commercialization and let’s all hold hands and sing around a tree like the Who’s down in Whoville. I am ALL for that, I really am, BUT, there won’t be a Christmas where I don’t give those I love a Christmas present, even if it’s very small, because I just want to. I give of myself, and sometimes myself is in the form of a gift card or a pair of earrings.

So far, I have used the word “Christmas” rather than “Holidays”. This is because I grew up celebrating Christmas, and these rants are CHRISTMAS related. All Christmas was for me growing up is what I listed in the first paragraph. I can count on one hand the number of times I was in a church, not including for other people’s weddings,  but I did consider myself a Christian growing up. We had a nativity scene, and I knew the whole story about the baby Jesus and Mary and no room at the Inn and following the Northern star and all that jazz. I don’t recall being told the story, but I assume I was, and didn’t just piece it together through Christmas songs and specials.

As an adult, I don’t consider myself a Christian, more like an agnostic, or sometimes, an atheist, depending on whether the University of Alabama wins its football games or not (settle down, I’m kidding). I have tried to educate my boys about Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, and the fact that some people don’t celebrate anything at all, and that to some people Christmas is more religious than it is for us, and  it’s all fine and good. The same rule of life applies, believe and/or celebrate what you want, as long as your beliefs and/or celebrations do not hurt another living creature.

I tend to say “Happy Holidays” as a catch-all for this time of year. Does this make me ANTI Christmas? Is this me waging my own personal war against Christmas?  Hell no, it’s not. This is me being cognizant of the fact that not everybody celebrates Christmas. Why in the tinsel covered hell does it matter if someone chooses to say “Happy Holidays” OR “Merry Christmas” OR “Happy Hanukkah” OR “Happy Kwanzaa”? It doesn’t to me. Thank you for the greetings, may you have a happy whatever as well. End of story. I don’t feel the need to go into this further because it is Elf on the Shelf time.

I don’t get this Elf on the Shelf thing. At all. I read that it was to help children become “more excited” about the impending holidays. WHO ARE THESE CHILDREN WHO NEED TO BECOME MORE EXCITED ABOUT THE HOLIDAYS!? The day after Halloween, mine start counting down to Christmas. I don’t need and/or want some creepy elf to help us in any way, thanks. Maybe I saw Poltergeist one too many times, but the fewer clown/elf dolls in my house, the better.

Happy holidays everybody.

elf

Leaping Before Looking for Almost 44 Years

4 Dec

satc

I have watched every episode of Sex and the City, probably more than once. Definitely more than once. Now that I live in a fancy house with a DVR, I can binge-watch many episodes in a row, though I wouldn’t suggest doing it after drinking a couple of mason jars full of red wine, yet, here we are.

I’ve analyzed the characters and tried to figure out with whom I most identified. I think, like most women, I’m a little of all four. I’m a little sassy and sexually liberated like Samantha (and who hasn’t had sex on a moving fire truck), I’m pragmatic and a little cynical like Miranda (and bartenders ARE fun), I’m a little dreamy-eyed when it comes to romance like Charlotte (and dust ruffles really are dumb), and like Carrie, I have fallen in love with a man who just wasn’t ever going to be what I needed him to be. I have done this more than once.

With that in mind, and in the spirit of the show, I can’t help but wonder, am I doomed to keep repeating the same mistakes over and over no matter how much work I think I’ve done on myself? Is this my cosmic fate?

My 12-year old son is reading a book called and the name escapes me now because wine and old age, but it is about a society that at first SOUNDS Utopian, but the more the book is read the more it is revealed to actually be a dystopian society. One of the key points in the book is that everything is very regulated and true love is not felt. People are matched with partners for marriage and everyone must take a pill to keep from experiencing love. My son recently asked me if I would choose to take a pill like that. I said absolutely not because sure it numbs the pain, but it numbs the other stuff too. the good stuff, and no amount of leaping into what turns out to be a giant pool void of water overshadows the good stuff. The good stuff is SO GOOD. Of course, I even more recently joked with my mom who knew my answer to my son that I would like to change my answer.

I am self-aware, almost to a fault. I have gone to therapy, I have read books, I have read blog posts, I am all about claiming my baggage, sitting down to dinner with my feelings, taking a dip in lake Amy (that’s me), and working on my part in any situation, learning, and moving on. I’m cute, I’m hilarious, I am good enough, I am smart enough, and gosh darnit, people like me.  I have an open mind, I’m not bitter, I go all in, I love big and that is probably part of my issue. I have been known to leap before looking. More than once. And dammit if that doesn’t hurt like hell.

I have no idea what the future holds, but I won’t stop leaping, and even though I’ve dated, that is, gone on more than one date with, a total of two people in the several years that I have been divorced from the boys’ dad, I hope the boys see me as a woman who is not bitter and who is pretty awesome and who is at least jumping in. Because the jump is worth the fall, and I don’t want them to ever think it’s not. And MAYBE,  I will jump and fall on top of somebody. This got dark. I blame the wine.

Dear 12-year-old Amy

27 Aug

typewriter

When I was writing this, it sounded very familiar to me and I realized why.  The advice I’m giving myself as a 12-year old is essentially the same that I gave to my boys in the post, A Letter to my Sons.  It makes sense. I have often said that children sometimes act as mirrors and reflect back to you those things you like about yourself, and what you don’t like so much as well.

I see so much of myself in my boys, for better and for worse. I want them to “GET” things earlier than I did, I want them to not beat themselves up for being flawed, I want them to learn from their mistakes, but mostly I want them to know that they can do so much more than they think they can because they are amazing. I let the fear of failure, and on many levels, the fear of success, color my choices. I hope the boys realize the only thing standing in their way is themselves.

None of us can go back and do things differently, and by and large, I don’t want to.  I do wish I had more time with my dad, and Brett, and I lament some of my choices, but even if I had the chance to go back and change things, I don’t know if I would because I feel like every broken heart, every rejection, every seemingly wrong turn, led me here, parent to the two most incredible boys on the planet. BUT, if I could go back, this is what I would want to tell myself.

Dear 12-year old me,

You’re kind of mess right now, aren’t you? You feel like school sucks, your parents are dorks, your siblings are jerks, your hair is a nightmare, your braces will never come off, and you will always live in a tiny town and feel something like a fish out of water. Well, never fear, 43-year old you (me) from the future is here to soothe your troubled soul. Granted, your hair will always be kind of a nightmare, but the rest totally works out.  I have some guidance for you to help you on your journey.

When you start high school, you will meet some fantastic people. Brett will be one of your closest friends. He will be there for you when few others are. Cherish him. He will be gone far too soon.

Dawn is someone who is very special and she will teach you about strength and love. Don’t lose sight of her.

Mom and dad love you but yes, things will get weird. Dad’s a complicated man and slowly you will start to realize that he is a human being, not a super hero. That’s okay. He can still be your super hero. He gave you his sense of humor and he loves the hell out of you and would do anything for you.

Emulate mom if you can. She’s incredible and totally comfortable in her skin. Also, give her a break about crying over Little House on the Prairie episodes and long distance carrier commercials. You will be exactly the same way. Also, you will do other things like she does too, so…keep that in mind the next time you laugh at one of her eardrum shattering sneezes.

Missy and Clay will always have your back. Clay will become one of the best guys and fathers you’ve ever seen (and probably won’t fart on either of his children’s heads even once like he used to yours) and Missy will grow more than you thought possible and will teach you about introspection. Listen to her. They will be your friends forever. Don’t fight with either of them about stupid shit. It’s not worth it.

Your family will grow to include a sister-in-law and two nieces.  Enjoy time with them when they’re little because soon enough they will be grown up and you will be in awe of the women they become.

In the coming years you will feel immortal and you will drive after having had a lot of alcohol to drink. You will do this more than once. Don’t do this ever, you freaking idiot.

Stay in journalism class. Continue in college. Writing is the one thing that you have always done and it is what you will always do and it would be fantastic to be paid for it.

Rethink that crush on Ashley Wilkes.  Weakness is not a quality to be desired. Trust me on this. Ashley could never have handled Scarlett anyway.

I know it seems like a self-destructive streak in boys is fun and desirable, but realize, that streak is inside you. Don’t seek it in them, deal with your own.

You feel like the chubby funny girl who boys don’t like. Boys DO like you, exactly how you are, and if one boy doesn’t, another one will.

Don’t even think about changing yourself for anybody. Ever.

It feels like you’re the girl who will never be kissed.  Not only will you be kissed, you will fall in love, several times, and boys will fall in love with you. You fall hard and you always will. Things inevitably end and it will hurt. It will not hurt forever though. I promise.

There are other things you could change and do, but it is imperative that you go to the On the Border restaurant with Missy and one of the guys she works with and one of his friends. The guy she works with will be more into Missy, but just hang in there. Meeting him will lead to two of the most amazing creatures ever.

Life is short. It’s really short. You will make choices in the coming years that you will not believe sound like a good idea to you at the time, and they probably aren’t, but I think you have to make them to get to where you end up. Remember this, nobody can beat you up the way you can. Give yourself a break after you make amends for your mistakes..and you will make so many mistakes, but everything will be fine. It really will.

Trust yourself, know your boundaries, love with everything you can, learn from and clean up your messes. You will be just fine. 

It’s a Boy. Two, Actually

30 May

booksThe last day of school is approaching in T – 4 days. Tuesday, June 4, is the day. The day I have circled in red marker on my calendar. I have never looked so forward to the end of a school year in my life.  Not even when I was the student. It’s so much more stressful as the parent.

It’s been tough, as any and all of you who read this blog on any kind of regular basis know. If you don’t read on a regular basis, let me sum it up – eldest son lost his mind this year, his first year of middle school, and decided to do as little as possible AND do everything with a terrible attitude and argue everything from the color of the sky to his middle name (slight exaggerations MAYBE).

Thanks to his super freak out plus modern conveniences like school websites that show practically up to the minute updates on his progress, (or shows what homework I know he DID, but did not turn in for whatever reason) as well as teachers (and I do appreciate it) emailing and letting us know what we knew already because of the websites, his dad  and I have been big balls of stress this year.

Facebook updates from parents who seem to never have any problems or issues with their kids certainly don’t help, nor do reading comments on those posts that say things like “that’s a reflection of great parenting!” True, it probably is, but that means that we are NOT great parents?  But I know I’m a wear my heart on my sleeve parent, and person, and many parents, and people, feel the need to present a certain front. I should probably do that…but I don’t.

It also seems that I have read many tug your heart-strings stories about kids who are saddled with the task of raising their siblings while working a part-time job and living in a box all while maintaining a perfect 4.0 GPA.  SO, as any concerned parent would do, next year I am kicking my 12-year-old out of the house. I am kidding, of course. It does make one wonder just what the hell factors are present that motivate some children and how I can do the same.

My kids are awesome. I just want them to do the best they can do and my eldest has not done that this year. They are both so clever and  could do anything, and anything is what I want them to do. I want the world to be their oyster, not their dried up chicken nugget. I really should have eaten dinner before writing this.

So here we are at the end of the year, and even though math camp and some extra work on math programs loom in the summer horizon for my 12-year-old, the summer will be so much more relaxed than the school year.   I can be a mom again, not some stressed out drill sergeant wildly clutching my chest as I vacillate between helicopter parent and letting  my kids have autonomy and dealing with the consequences  on their own if/when they don’t do what is expected of them. I can also get to know my kids again.

About 10 times this year I have said “that’s it! I can’t do it. I’m done with this” to my friends and/or the boys dad.  I’m not even sure what I meant, but I imagine I meant I was done with this being a grown up responsible parent thing. This summer, I’m going to be less of one. We all deserve a break dammit. We’re going to try all the new frozen yogurt places in town (Three have opened in the last few months) and stay up until 10 and go to the beach and start with a clean slate in August.   I have missed my boys.

We have had plenty of talks about how the behavior that was exhibited this year, will not be exhibited next year. He understands, he says that he had trouble adjusting this year. I nodded my head and agreed with him and gave him a big hug rather than going over in detail any issues he has had. We’ve already done that. And this is the beginning of a stress less summer. EXHALE.

sand heart

That Time I Got Lucky in Las Vegas

23 May

Way back when I was in my 20’s, I was fortunate enough to have a job that allowed me to travel all over the country. I was a , we’ll call it, “meeting planner”, because I really don’t know what other title to attach to it, and when I preface it by saying “we’ll call it”, it sounds very intriguing, and since I recently bought a pair of very large prescription sunglasses, and one person told me I looked like a European movie star from the ’60’s, I am all about intrigue.

SO, here I am in my 20’s, traveling all over the country setting up “meetings” for a “company” that may or may not (may) have had some “unsavory business practices”, but I was very naive, and nobody was getting hurt, except for the people who were using their life savings to buy into what the company was selling, but again, I clung to the hope that perhaps SOMEBODY was making the kind of money with the system we were selling that they were told they could make. Also, I was very selfish about enjoying the travel and money. I am AMAZED that many people in their 20’s seem to have their shit together, because my 20’s were all about me and partying, unlike my 40’s that so far are about my children and…hmm…can I say my children twice? Because there ARE two of them.

Anyway, one of my business trips took me to Las Vegas, NV (NV is probably not necessary but there it is). I was so very excited to go to Las Vegas because I have said for slot machinemany years that I plan to retire there and be one of those old ladies who spend their afternoons in the casino, bucket of quarters in one hand, gin and tonic in the other. Sadly, now all of the machines give out a ticket or some such nonsense when you win and also even more sadly, I really hate gin and tonics, but that part of my white trash dream can be modified easily enough.

When I used to travel, I would park my car in long-term parking in a lot that was located off airport property. The trips would take me away for a week at a time, sometimes more, so this lot was a necessity. From there I would take a shuttle bus over to the airport and go on my merry way. This was all pre 9/11 and I haven’t flown much, if any, since then, but then I would roll my giant ass suitcase (filled with booklets and other crap for the meeting), and my not so giant suitcase filled with sensible work dresses and 3 lbs. of makeup (I don’t even wear a whole lot, but I own a lot and I travel with a lot), off the shuttle bus, tip the nice men generously to check my suitcases and I would go relax and have myself a latte and peruse the airport shops for some worthless shit that I did not need. The money I spent on soy candles and earrings and corkscrews or whatever interesting must-have item I found in an airport shop every single time I traveled is sorely missed these days. OH 20’s…you came and went too fast.

The lot where I parked was not free, of course, as not many things in life are. I usually managed to save just enough money from my trip to get my car out of the lot, but not much more. For some reason that I cannot remember now, I did not have a bank account. I traveled with CASH. I know, right? What was I, a damn caveman? This means that not once but twice, both times involving a bar, I lost all my money and had to borrow money for the rest of the trip and to get my car out of the lot. The times that happened, I was fortunate enough to be traveling with a group of wonderful people who were also in their 20’s, but had their shit together more than I did and at least had credit cards and bank accounts.

I traveled to Las Vegas alone, which is pertinent to the story. On the way back home, I had just enough money to get my car out of the lot. I was so proud of myself. If ONLY there hadn’t been a delay in my flight and I wasn’t stuck at the airport being taunted by those slot machines. They would beckon to me “come on, stick a quarter in me. You may win. You may win BIG”. I have no willpower. NONE. I slowly fed all my quarters into the slot machine, and I watched my money dwindle down to nothing. What’s even crazier is that I told myself that if I won really big I was going to just stay in Vegas. I didn’t have much in Orlando any more, and my friends there would love to come visit me in my high rolling bachelorette pad, and the guy I was dating would just have to find a way to pay for his own food. And gym membership. And clothes. And other girlfriend.

I didn’t win big, BUT I did win enough to get my car out of the lot. Lesson learned, right? Not so much. I was YOLO before YOLO was even a thing (mom, that stands for You Only Live Once), sometimes to my detriment (please see years…too many to reference here) but SOMETIMES, it is fabulous and fun and amazing to fly by the seat of your pants.

As a mom, I see SO much of myself in my boys and I have NO idea how to tell them how to figure out when they should go with their gut, and when they should carefully measure their decisions because honestly, some of my fly by the seat of my pants decisions have led to amazing things, and I don’t want them to miss out on THEIR amazing things.

There is no pretty bow to tie this up at the end. We’ve established that I make poor decisions sometimes,  but sometimes they work out okay, and sometimes better than okay, and sometimes they hurt like hell (me and others). My wish for the boys is that they experience their amazing things AND they make measured decisions. There HAS to be a happy medium, and I think they can find it, especially with my constant story-telling about the time I almost had to resort to prostitution to get my car out of a parking lot or the time I thought that eating escargots all night then drinking copious amounts of whiskey would NOT end up with snail carcasses being vomited down the side of my sister’s car. Kids love stories.

That’s Hilarious, Now Watch Your Language

21 May

parental_advisory_magnet

My 12-year old is the source of many posts on this blog, mainly because of the “rough patch” he has been going through in regards to refusing to do his homework, his need to be right even when I’m pretty sure he knows he is wrong, and his sassy mouth.

That mouth of his definitely gets him into trouble sometimes, but it seems whenever I share something he has said that is particularly sassy, I am met with comments like “oh where DOES he get that, I wonder?” and “the apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree”, and often I find myself nodding my head and agreeing that my boys’ dad really is an epic smartass, but then I realize I think they might mean ME.

Of COURSE they mean me, I am not delusional (in this sense), but in my defense I come from a long line of funny smartasses, on both sides of the family. My father was a mad genius/smartass, my aunt majored in biting sarcasm in school. Cousins, uncles, and my grandmother, all well-versed in the fine art of sarcasm. My sister and brother carry the gene as well, as do my nieces.  My mom has a subtle sarcasm that sneaks up on you. Sarcasm and smart-assery have been elevated to new heights with my children however,  and I am simultaneously horrified and proud.

georgeBesides being delightful smartasses, my children cuss sometimes too. Thank George Carlin for that bit of parenting advice, though he didn’t actually use it as parenting advice, my ex-husband and I took it upon ourselves to decide that we would apply a famous comedy bit of Carlin’s to parenting, and our children would be allowed to use words deemed “wrong” because really, they are just words.  Carlin’s “Seven Words you can Never say on Television” was the bit and I still stand by my original assessment that it is STUPID that some words, regardless of context, are deemed “wrong”. This applies to what is known as curse words, not words that refer to any group of people.  I believe some of those words are FAR more offensive than the word “tits”, for instance, and the boys would be severely reprimanded by us if they used those words.

We have told the boys since they were born that as long as the words are not being used maliciously, that they would not get into trouble for saying them. We have also told them that they are not allowed to use the words in school or around grandparents (hey, we don’t want our parents yelling at us for our children’s use of curse words, plus there is a matter of respect, of course).

In hindsight, this bit of parenting was probably a misstep. The boys have stuck to the rules and very rarely, and usually only with each other, do they use the words in any kind of malicious way, but still, other parents probably wouldn’t be too thrilled when my kid loudly proclaims “SHIT!” on the playground after falling off the”mother fucking balance beam”. The previous scenario is fabricated, but it could happen. Backtracking and trying to regulate what words your now 8 and 12-year-old sons are allowed to say is a bit like trying to put silly string back into the can after you have squeezed it all out.  Or string cheese. Look, I’m bad at similes, but you get what I’m trying to say.

After that set up, I wanted to share some funny quips penned by my eldest child. I have to say, yes, they might be a bit racy and include curse words, but they also are really funny and are not MEAN in any way and the fact that these are from the same child who gave up his chair this past Sunday so an older man could sit down, and did this when he didn’t know I could see him,  makes me think meh, they are just words.

This is part of a blues song and is an ode to a woman who works as a clown  –

Spending all my money on your big ass shoes

Seriously, that line cracks me up every time I read it.

Brace yourselves,it’s racier than the other, but for a 12-year old boy, still not too bad, and it really is funny –

I’ve got a fire dick

You’ve got a water hole

Baby our love is like stop drop and roll

I am telling you, that is better than like 90% of the songs on the radio these days.

I think the boys are turning out pretty okay, even with all the doomed sarcasm genes and iffy parenting.

* Parental Advisory picture from Stabilitees

* George Carlin picture from his official website

A Letter to my Sons

17 May

typewriter2.jpg

Hello my boys,

As I write this, you are 12 and 8 years old, and I am 43.  I have lived probably about half my life, give or take some years. Although you both think I was born this age, I actually started out as a child! A baby even. Weird, I know.  I started as a baby and grew to this age, and along the way, I learned a few things that might help you in your journey to whatever lies at the end of this road.

I will try not to get philosophical and I will try to keep this short. I will be honest with you, it took me a long time to learn some of these things myself and some I work on still, but my hope for you both is that you actually listen to my words and you realize that I come from a place of pure love for the both of you.

There will come a time when you both will fall in love, the kind of love that will knock you on your booties. It will happen. Love is grand. Love is lovely.  I LOVE love. What you need to know about love is that you cannot “fix” anyone.  It is not your duty as a friend or boyfriend to be a magic elixir for someone else. There is a bit of a romantic notion attached to the “broken” individual. It is not romantic to be a mess or to be attached to a mess. It will rub off on you and leave you a little “broken” and messy in the process, and won’t do a thing to fix the other person. Be supportive, but realize, the hard work that needs to be done will need to be done by the person who is “broken”.

Don’t be afraid of love. Don’t be afraid to express it, and don’t be afraid when someone shares their love with you. When someone gives you their heart, be gentle with it. You don’t have to love everyone who loves you, and you probably won’t, but you don’t have to play with the hearts of those who love you. Don’t be that guy.

You will screw up. It is inevitable. How you deal with yourself and those you hurt after you screw up will define you as a man. Don’t let what others think of you enter into your mind other than as a passing thought. Try very  hard to absorb the good things that are said about you or to you and dismiss the bad.

Never forget that while you grew up living in a trailer, many grew up living in boxes, or worse. Be thankful for everything you have and have been given, and give back as much as you can to those who have less.

Hold tight to your true friends. You will know who they are.

Your family loves you. Your family may drive you crazy sometimes, but try to mend fences with them because they really do love you. I know this for a fact.

It is better to be slightly over-dressed for an occasion than under-dressed.

Keep a blanket in your car. Make sure your spare tire is not flat. Keep jumper cables in your car. Know how to change a tire. I can teach you if you want.

If someone needs money and you have some, give it to them. You both have seen me do this with people standing on the side of the road, and you have both asked why. There is the reason. I had it, they needed it, and I truly don’t care what they wanted to do with the money. My father taught me this and I have never lost one second of sleep thinking “sure hope that guy didn’t spend that $5.00 I gave him on booze”.

Help other people whenever you can. Pay for someone behind you in the drive thru if you can.

Never park in a handicapped spot unless you are handicapped.

Say “please” and “thank you”. Common courtesy should be truly common. Do it every day.

Never ever forget that everybody, every single person on this earth, has a story and has been through some shit. Try to remember that when dealing with the jerks, and you will encounter some jerks. You cannot tell by looking at someone what kind of a person they are inside. Be kind to everyone. EVERYONE.

After a break up, and I hope you have breakups because from my breakups I learned the most about who I am, take your part of the mess, look at it, own it, learn from it, then leave it in the past. We all have baggage, but yours doesn’t have to be a big honkin’ steamer trunk. A carry on will do.

Never underestimate the power of laughter, and of making other people laugh.

Travel as much as you possibly can.

Stand up for yourself but don’t be an ass about it. People can disagree with you and that is okay. Listen to them, try to see things from their point of view, and always respect them. If you enjoy debate, then debate, if the other person enjoys it too. If they don’t, and you insist on debating them, you are being a bully. Don’t be a bully.

Don’t let anybody else define you. YOU define you. Know who you are (and you will figure this out probably sometime in your 30’s…or later if you take after your mom) and be proud of it. YOU BOTH ARE AWESOME.

Water parks are not ever as much fun as you think they will be, but if you must go to one, always wear sunscreen and the longest pair of swim shorts you can find. If you go down any slides, you will thank me.

Be comfortable in your skin. If you are thin, own it, if you are heavy, work it, if you don’t like where you are as far as your body or anything else in your life, do something about it, but don’t ever shame anyone because of their body and how they look, and don’t do the same to yourself. Don’t buy into advertisements that tell you that you MUST buy or do something to be better,cooler, faster, hotter. They want your money. That’s it.

Alone time is okay and good for you.

When you are hung over, and you will be hung over at some point, wake up and drink as much water as possible and take a couple Excedrin. If you feel like throwing up, do it.  You will feel much better afterwards.

Those nights before you woke up hung over, don’t drive. Take a cab or arrange for someone to be your driver. Take turns with friends.

Play music, or write, or paint, or run, or do Tae Kwon Do or something that shakes your soul every day.

You can learn something from everyone you meet even if that lesson is “don’t sit next to Bob anymore”.

This is your journey. You only get one. Do with your life what you want, as long as you don’t hurt anyone else, and it makes you happy.

Don’t compare yourself to anybody else. That is them. This is you. And you rock.

Never ask a woman if she is pregnant or when she is due unless she is wearing a shirt with a huge arrow pointing to her belly. Even then, maybe just say “nice shirt”.

I am sure this is not the end, but this is the end for now.  I cannot imagine my life without both of you and even though there are times that we seem to not like each other very much,  I want you both to know that I am proud of you and I cannot wait to see you grow into men. You will both be EPIC and kind and original and hilarious and I love you both every second of every minute of every hour of every day, forever.

Mom, Mommy, and sometimes Amy (stop calling me Amy by the way)

J. A. Allen

Scribbles on Cocktail Napkins

Storyshucker

A blog full of humorous and poignant observations.

Pattern$ oF R@nD0mNEsS

However random it might seem, everything in this world has a pattern

sweety5225's Blog

My thoughts about Depression, suicide and living

Mommy Muddling

I'm just a mommy muddling her way through the muck and the mire of parenting and a bunch of other messy stuff like autism, depression, anxiety, faith and more!

materialmermaid

Dive into my ocean

Live Your Life Inspired

A Wholehearted Community

polysyllabic profundities

Random thoughts with sporadically profound meaning

Letters Of Rejection

I am a writer and an author and a person and a human.

sevenisconceptenterprises

global business and -trade and nations resources control .

Cozy Cottage Clan

The Life of an Accidental Homemaker and Homesteader

Ana Spoke, author

It's time to get hella serious about writing!

The Ninth Life

It's time to be inspired, become encouraged, and get uplifted!

Uncomplicated Hacks

Yes! Life is Simple