Surprise Me!- BFF 218

     Lately I have experienced a certain level of unease which I think stems from all those pre-menopausal hormones swimming about.    After almost 12 years of being a stay at home mom, I got a notion to get a job. Both of my kids are away at school each day leaving me very much to my own devices.  After being out of the workforce for so long, I was literally scared $hitless to apply anywhere.  What if no one wanted me because I haven’t stuck my nose out of the house for 12 years?  What if they hold that against me?  With a husband on the road more than he is not, I had no prospects for a sitter.  I also didn’t have the money to pay anyone to watch my kids for a few hours.  Let’s face it, isn’t that exactly what I wanted to guard against when I quit work all those years ago?  Trusting a virtual stranger to raise my kid for me while I worked hard for the money?  Still I was compelled to try.  

       I took a real hard look at myself.  At 44 years old, what exactly do I have to show for myself?  Two well behaved, polite kids who are talented and smart, check.  A fairly successful website where I write all the crazy a$$ ideas that dart around in my noggin, check.  Well $hit the bed, that about sums me up.  Let us not forget the fact that I am always broke, always wishing I had money, and recently realizing that it wouldn’t kill me to venture out my front door and give getting a job a try.  Rejection would sting, but it wouldn’t kill me, and I had been pretty content for the last 12 years.  I knew continuing on as I had been wasn’t going to be that big of a hardship.

        One day I was on the school corporation’s website and seen that they had position’s open in food services.  Translation, they need help feeding the kids, cleaning, taking out the trash, and helping the little ones open ketchup packets.  I put two and two together and thought “That isn’t rocket science, hells bells!  I could do that!”  I threw the possibility out to my husband the next time he called me and he asked me “Do you really want to do that?”  I thought about it, and I thought well why not?  What would it hurt?  I have no experience in food service, but I have been cooking and cleaning round the clock for my own little household for almost 15 years.  What did I have to lose?  I filled out an application and turned it in.

         The waiting began.  Once school started and my phone had still refused to ring, I gave up hope.  I reasoned that if they didn’t hire me, I was no worse off than before.  The same ole same ole would continue.  I would write, read, wipe my kids noses and a$$es, catch vomit on occasion, and be mentor, companion, and personal tutor as I always have been.  Still it nagged the hell out of me that they hadn’t called.  So finally I called them and expressed my interest.  I WAS interested after all.  The hours were ideal; I would be home for my kids whenever they were and when they needed me most.  I reasoned that no matter what it paid it had to be more than what I was making sitting at home writing blogs, cleaning house, and keeping on top of the never ending mountain of laundry.  The kind lady on the line assured me that no, the position was still available; yes she did have my application, and then verified my phone number.  I found myself saying almost verbatim “You don’t me, and this is crazy, but here’s my number, call me maybe!!!” 

        The school surprised me.  Not only did they call me in for an interview, they hired me on the spot as a sub, someone they could call when someone needed a day off.  As a sub, they took my “call me maybe” literally!  They also assured me that if I decided that I liked the work, I could move into a permanent position.  Being a sub I could go to any of the seven schools in the district to do basically the same thing.  I would be flexible.  I could still write to my hearts content.  I would still be there for my kids whenever they were home.  For me, it is a win-win situation.  So opens a new exciting chapter of my life where I  still am a writer, still a mommy, and bonus…I have a real job until next time I give you another glimpse into the life of a trucker’s wife.

Peace

     I am big on keeping the peace.  If it means that I never talk to you again and avoid you like the plague to keep the peace, so be it.  I am not the young hot head of my youth.  I have mellowed with age and somewhere along the way grew a longer fuse.  Life is simply too short to go looking for trouble, so I strive to keep the peace and avoid it at all costs. 

      In preparation for writing this prompt I checked out some peace quotes that were uttered by the famous because when I sat down and really thought about peace I found myself singing “Silent Night”.  You know “Sleep in heavenly peace!”  I used to sing this as a lullaby to each of my kids when they were little.  When you think about it, unless you are having a scary nightmare where some evil a$$ is chasing you with a hatchet and pushing you off a cliff to your impending death, when you are sleeping you are at peace.  Being a stay at home mom of two I can testify that when the natives are restless it is hard to keep the peace.  The only way for me to keep my sanity is enforce the peace.  I have a special case of Whoop A$$ for just those occasions and I am not afraid to use it.  My kids know not to go there.

       Albert Einstein once said “Peace cannot be kept by force; it can only be achieved by understanding.”  He was saying a mouthful there.  My son demands understanding.  He is determined to get his point across no matter how loud he has to be to achieve it.  He needs more than the evil eye to get the message.  However, he is a tricky bird because if you don’t give some acknowledgement that you sympathize with his point of view you will get absolutely no where.  With my daughter, I only have ever had to go ballistic once or twice and she knows not to go there.  A dirty look in her direction does the trick every time.

         Buddha once said “Peace comes from within.  Do not seek it without.”  I don’t think this means you have to meditate to find peace.  I just think it means you have to be content with what you have in life, where you are at, and what you are doing.  I am finally at a place where I am happy to be content with what I have, where I am, and with what I am doing.  Why be anything but?   



          My favorite quote of all came from Mother Theresa who said “Peace begins with a smile.”  How can anyone be at odds with someone who is grinning like an idiot at them?  Smiles make me feel all warm and cozy inside.  A smile is the best gift you can give to someone else.  Whether people like it or not, they usually get my big toothy grin.  Well in most circumstances.  When I am pi$$ED to the teeth, you may just get the bird. After all, if I am mad, you only deserve half of the peace sign.   The best thing I got out of 6 years of torture and hell at the hands of my orthodontist was my grin and I am not afraid to use it either.  My giggle came later when I adopted that half past give a $hit outlook on life.  It was at that point that I quit taking things so seriously. I find peace by avoiding the habitual drama queens and $hit stirrers.  If that is what you are all about, it won’t take me long to figure it out.  Once or twice, I may just wonder who exactly pi$$ed in your Wheaties, and be so bold to ask you giving you the benefit of the doubt.     I am at peace in my life.  I no longer let things out of my control upset me for long.  There is just no point.

         I have adopted the motto of “Don’t worry, be happy!”  If everyone would do that and share the love, there would be a lot more peace going on around the world until next time when I give you another glimpse into the life of a trucker‘s wife.

Focus on This: Photo Fun!!

Enjoying the view...

Caught! - BFF 222

     When I was a little girl I had a play house in the backyard that my Dad and Grandpa built for me and my sister to play in.  It was filled with everything a little girl dreamed of for imaginative play.  There was a table and chairs, a play kitchen, beds for my dolls, and a little cabinet to keep my play dishes in.  I loved to go out there and play.  I would pretend I was the lady of the house taking care of all of my children.  One thing I loved more than anything when I was little was the yummy colorful marshmallows in the Lucky Charms cereal box.

    

         One summer day I stole the box of Lucky Charms from the kitchen and smuggled it out to my playhouse.  I sifted through the entire box and retrieved out every single marshmallow charm I could find.  I filled several of my toy dishes with them.  Then I hurried back into the house to put the box back where I found it.  No one would ever know I fancied as I raced back to the playhouse hell bent for election to devour all of the marshmallow charms in secret.

        I was sitting in my play house having a lively discussion with my dolls and literally inhaling the marshmallows when all of a sudden the door flew open.  Standing on the threshold was my mother and sister.  They both looked madder than hell and my sister had tears in her eyes as she pointed at me “That little pig stole all the marshmallow charms out of the box!!!  Now all that is left is the stupid cereal!!”

         My mother crossed the space between me and the door in what seemed like a matter of moments.  She pulled down my pants, whipped out her trusty plastic paint stick, and gave me a whipping I have never forgot while my sister looked triumphant from the door way.  I learned from that day forth to enjoy my Lucky Charms as General Mills intended with the marshmallows and oat cereal mixed together.  I may not have been caught with my hand in the cookie jar, but it was in the same neighborhood until next time when I give you another glimpse into the life of a trucker’s wife.

Solitude

     Unlike most people,  I thoroughly enjoy being alone.   It is because of this simple fact that I have survived almost 15 years of marriage to an over the road trucker.  Although I love my solitude now, that wasn’t always the case.  I had to acquire a taste for it, become accustomed to it, and finally I came to enjoy it.

      Before my mom died I hated to be alone.  If you would have asked me then I would have moaned and groaned about being alone.  I hated it. I wanted friends.  I didn’t think at the time that I could stand being without someone.  It didn’t have to be a man particularly.  I just needed someone, anyone to talk to, hang out with and care if I got up in the morning or not.

       Nineteen years ago the unthinkable happened and my mom died.  Her death rocked my whole world and shook me to the very core.  Shortly after the funeral it was time for my Dad to return to work and I was thrust into solitude.  I would go to work and come home to an empty, silent house.  Before she died we did absolutely everything together.  She wasn’t just my mom; she was also my best friend and partner in crime.  She was my companion and my cheerleader.  She was everything to me.  When she became sick, I devoted myself to her every need and took care of her.  I wanted too.  She had devoted her life to me so many years ago when she quit her job at a local factory to be a stay at home mom.  I have always appreciated her sacrifice, and when she became ill, I felt it was the very least I could do.  I know in my heart of hearts she would have done the same for me.

        Once my Dad went back to work, I was left very much alone.  I mourned my Mom something fierce and sank into the deepest darkest depression I have ever been in before or since.  My life was empty without her.  I had never been so alone.  I came home from work and busied myself watching movies and in the process built a fairly large collection of the films that tugged most at my heart or made me laugh.  I would sit for hours at the piano and play through every single piece of sheet music I possessed.  As time went on, I began to enjoy my solitude and even prefer it.  I forced myself to go to the mall alone, to go out to eat alone, and all kinds of things I would have done with her and would have never done alone before she died.  I buried myself in mountains of books and listened to music.

 

         I became independent in the aftermath of my Mother’s death in ways I would have never dreamed possible before.  I can honestly say I enjoy my solitude now.  I like coming back into a house which is silent except for the snores of my Boston Terrier after the kids leave for school.  As much as I welcome the bickering and giggles of my kids when they are home, my time alone has become essential to the survival of my sanity until next time when I give you another glimpse into the life of a trucker’s wife.
          

24 Hours- BFF 214

This is a fictional story I wrote for the BFF writing prompt 24 Hours.

      After another ride on the Ferris wheel they came upon a tent with a sign reading “Madame Zelda’s Fortunes”.  Ann grabbed Pam’s hand and dragged her toward the tent with a laugh.  “Come on!  Let’s go see what our futures hold!”  To Pam’s expression of doubt she insisted “Oh come on, it will be fun!”

      They entered the tent which was eerily lit by soft candlelight to discover a middle aged woman dressed in full gypsy costume sitting behind a table draped in purple velvet.  Ann held back as Pam rushed forward and eagerly gave the woman $5.00 and settled into the chair provided.  Ann crossed her arms and watched the proceedings with mounting skepticism.    The woman took the money then gazed into the murky crystal ball.  “I see you falling in love with your high school sweetheart and growing old gracefully surrounded by a houseful of children and grandchildren.”  Pam let out a squeal of delight.  “I knew it! Ann, you have got to have her tell your fortune!!”  Ann rolled her eyes and gave the woman her money before replacing Pam on the chair.  Madame Zelda peered into her crystal ball and then gasped.  She immediately looked worried and tried to hurry the girls from her tent.  “What did you see?” demanded Ann not at all amused by the dramatics. “My dear child, in 24 hours time you will die.  It is your fate.  You can not change it.  Make the most of the time you have left!!”  

 

          Startled Ann whispered “How?”  The gypsy looked scared and muttered “I know not, but use what time you have left well!  You must go!  Hurry! The clock is ticking!”  She bolted from her seat and shooed the girls from her tent.  Millions of thoughts filled Ann’s head as Pam talked almost nonstop.  What if the gypsy’s prediction was true? What if she only had 24 hours to live?  She was a gypsy at a carnival for crying out loud!  She was a fake!  Still the gloom the gypsy woman’s words had cast fell around her like a shroud.  She grew quiet and lost in thought as they drove home.  Pam tried to laugh it off and make small talk, but she hadn’t been told she only had 24 hours to live either.  Her fortune had been to grow old and have a hand in populating the earth.  Hell, Ann hadn’t even had sex yet!!  Certainly she wouldn’t die a virgin not knowing what the excitement was all about!

         Ann fell into bed that night haunted by the gypsy lady’s prediction.  She tossed and turned all night long barely sleeping.  The alarm clock rang announcing the start of another day, according to the gypsy lady, her last day alive.    She rolled out of bed and hurried for the bathroom to get ready for school eager to shake her feeling of unease.  Her mom was busy in the kitchen pouring a bowl of cereal for her little brother when Ann burst into the room, grabbed a quick glass of milk and headed for the door.   She rushed back and caught her mother into a loving embrace whispering how much she loved her in her ear.  She kissed her brother on the cheek that he quickly wiped off with disgust, and told him she loved him too.  She raced for the bus boarding it just in the nick of time. 

        Classes, laughter, and chatter rolled together as the day unfolded.  During biology class Billy Watson burst into the class unexpectedly, pulled out a gun, and opened fire.  Ann tried to get away, except there was no where to go.  She tried to hide, but she was hit along with several others before Billy cried in agony then turned his weapon onto himself ending the rampage.

        She heard the screams and the gun fire as she fell to the floor.  Pain exploded in her arm and chest and she realized that she was bleeding.  People were running and crying.  She heard sirens in the distance then nothing at all.  The next time she woke she was in a sterile white room surrounded by people talking frantically.  She was looking down on what appeared to be her body hooked to many machines. She was surrounded by a team of doctors and nurses.  As the machines flat lined, they begged her to come back working feverously to save her.  After several minutes of trying, they admitted defeat.   With tears in his eyes, a doctor led her parents to where her body lay and explained they had done everything they could.     Ann felt a warmth fill her, seen a bright light beckoning, and with one last look at her grieving family turned and went toward it and the overwhelming peace it offered exactly 24 hours after the gypsy predicted her death.

Elvis- BFF 221

      Elvis is one of those rare performers that come along that is not only good but legendary.  His voice, his style, and his moves were unique and shaped rock and roll.  It is no wonder why he has been pegged as the King of the genre. Every song he recorded defined an era.  Amazingly enough while some performers and their work is regulated into dusty archives and history books, Elvis’s music lives on.

       Another thing that really set him apart was the way he danced.  Back in the 1950’s people didn’t shake their package around.  It simply wasn’t done.  It is not that my parent’s generation didn’t know about $ex or how to be wild.  It happened behind closed doors and was rarely discussed.  Television and movies were “G” rated.  They didn’t throw it out there in your face.  It is no wonder that girls went ape $hit and guys struggled to look like him.  He was the epitome of cool and sex appeal.  Elvis elicited raw hormones and excitement that without any doubt gave ladies the notion to throw their panties on the stage and scream themselves silly.

   

         I remember vividly one time when my mom and I were watching TV and Rod Stewart came on wearing hot pink spandex pants that left little to the imagination.  He sang “Do You Think I’m Sexy?”  My mother’s eyes bugged out of her head and her jaw dropped.  Here was a woman that grew up during a time period when Elvis shaking everything he had was shocking and she just about lost it.  It was funny to see and I will never forget the look on her face.  The only difference between Elvis and Rod Stewart was that Elvis wasn’t sporting skin tight spandex.  Elvis left more to the imagination.  My mom would be blown away by the music videos and lyrics that are prevalent today.

       In this day and age, Elvis would be pretty tame compared to LMFAO’s video performance of “I’m Sexy and I Know It” or pretty much anything Lady Gaga would have to offer.  As a generation we have kind of gotten used to being shocked to the point where simply nothing amazes us anymore.   We are used to seeing a lot of skin.  Elvis had the whole package.  He had the look, the shock value, and a fabulous voice that could make “I’m a Little Teapot” sound good. 

         35 years have passed since his death and still his legendary music and mannerisms live on.  People still attempt to imitate him and his songs are still played.   It is little wonder that when Elvis left the building for the last time, the world mourned his loss.  People still flock to Graceland to experience his magic first hand.  No matter how hard people try to duplicate his magic and mystique they soon discover, there will only ever be one Elvis until next time when I give you another glimpse into the life of a trucker’s wife.

Snapshot

     Once you start school there is a time honored tradition that happens every single year without fail of your entire educational career.  Half way between bleary eyed and bright eyed and bushy tailed, sparkled and shined sporting new clothes, new shoes, and loaded down with backpacks filled to overflowing with pens, notebooks, crayons, and markers the kids stand at attention for that first day of school photo op.

        You tick off everything in your head… lunch money, gym shoes, backpack check! You hope that nothing has been forgotten.  You find the perfect setting.  You know the one where shadows won’t block their smiling faces.  Smile!  Stand up straight!  Move closer together!  They oblige and you capture that moment forever to be compared in years to come with other first days of school.  If you are a trucker’s wife, you document those smiles with your cell phone then send them to your husband so he can share the moment too.

  

      You can hardly fathom how much they have changed from one year to the next.  Time goes by so swiftly!  Wasn’t it only yesterday when summer vacation began?  You say goodbye to carousing half the night and sleeping late, and hello to early mornings.  With a hug and kiss they are on their way, and you return to a silent house.  And so it begins and you know you will treasure these snapshots forever until next time when I give you another glimpse into the life of a trucker’s wife.

A Reason to Smile: BFF 220

     I have been bluer than a comfortable pair of blue jeans lately.  Today after getting over another migraine I decided I needed a reason to smile.  My first stop was You Tube.  Music really soothes the soul and LMFAO’s video “I’m Sexy and I Know it!” cracks me up.  Seriously, can you honestly watch that video, feel the beat, and see all those geeky guys wiggle, wiggle, wiggling their twig and giggle berries without laughing?  I certainly can’t.  It is also a song I can’t resist dancing to.   I crank the volume and the kids and I get our jam on.  My son loves to “wiggle”.  G0d help me, he has the makings of a male stripper.  When I am with my kids, I don’t even need an Alabama Slammer to get up and shake my groove thing when that song comes on. 

        I smile when my kids shower me with their love.  Seriously is there anything better than having your kid come up to you out of the clear blue sky, smile their precious smile, and say “I love you Mommy!!”  No, I didn’t think so either.  It gets me every time!!  Their hugs, kisses, and drawings are some of the best things life has to offer.  Knowing my husband is coming home makes me smile.  The cat purring contentedly and my dogs snuggling around me no matter where I am makes me happy.

        Tonight I took my kids to my son’s elementary school for the “Back to School Ice Cream Social”.  You can go tour the school, meet your kid’s teacher, and top if off with free ice cream.   I had to be the odd ball.  Both the kids had their ice cream smothered with chocolate.  Me? I had to have my ice cream smothered with strawberries!!  I am smiling just thinking about it.

        Smiles lead to laughter and since everyone in my house honed their funny bone on Eddie Murphy’s humor, an off the wall comment like “Remember that fart you once made” leaves me laughing so hard tears are streaming down my face, snot is blowing out of my nose, and I am choking on myself.  Why are farts so funny?  They just are!!  The funniest thing is I can remember some momentous farts from the past that still leave me laughing so hard I have to make a mad dash to the toilet so I don’t pee my pants!!  There was the time my Grandma farted in front of everyone and my sister proclaimed “Ewww, who $hit?” to my parents mortification.  To my knowledge my Grandma never farted as freely ever again.   There was also the time my Dad farted on the cat.  The cat let out a yowl, jumped about three feet high, and took off like a bat out of hell to get away from the smell.  You know, remembering moments like that make me smile!!

         There are a million reasons to smile, and even more reasons to laugh.  The world would be a better place if everyone would just lighten up, and smile or laugh out loud.  Who wants to be all pious and straight faced?  So smile, laugh out loud, and live a little.  It will make everyone wonder what the hell you have been up to until next time when I give you another glimpse into the life of a trucker’s wife. 

You Can’t Please Everyone- BFF 219

     You can’t please everyone.  On some days you may be hard pressed to please anyone.  On other days even pleasing oneself seems out of reach.  At that point everyone sees you for the piece of work you truly are.  I have struggled with the people pleaser thing my whole entire life.  Even now when my attitude borders on a half past give a $hit mentality, I still care deep down.  I probably will always care inside which just pisses me off.  There have been few times in my life when I have really tried to please myself.  I have always been trying my damnedest to please everyone else.  The result has left me depressed and defiant because I simply can’t.  Worse yet, no one else is lining up trying to please me either.

        Over the years I have gradually evolved into the person I am now.  I have given up on pleasing some people because they were hell bent on hating me and making my life a torturous hell on earth no matter what I did.  It became clearer to me when not that long ago I once again treated someone with kindness only to have them dig deep into their imaginations to make up lies and imagined slights.  I don’t understand what is wrong with some people.  What I do understand is that I have zero patience for people like this.  I can’t please them.  They are never happy and if others are happy they are hell bent to destroy it.  My walls have gone up and I have retreated into my present isolation.  Sadly, I am happiest in solitude.  Why?  You can never please everyone.

        The day I can look into the mirror and feel that I have truly pleased myself will probably be a happy day indeed.  I am not there yet.  If I were, I would feel happy and I don’t.  I have slipped into the depths of despair once again.   Perhaps it is the dreaded mid life crisis that one always hears about that grips me now.  You know that loony time in life when normally sane people leave everything behind to “FIND” themselves.  I am not quite that stupid to go looking elsewhere for me.  For better or for worse, I am right here.  I wouldn’t know where to look if I did try.  I went through a stage in life where I was this giggling little thing that laughed at the drop of the hat- hence the giggling trucker’s wife.  It seemed to fit then.  Life was funny, then.   I have withdrawn within myself, and as a result I have become more serious and reflective.  I hate to think I have mental-pause/menopause to blame, but really fu¢k it, what else can be wrong with me??  Perhaps it is a massive hormonal imbalance that would be rectified with several small bottles filled with pills.  

          Perhaps it is simply that moment in time that dawns when I stand up and make a huge pot of vegetable soup for me despite the fact my daughter tolerates it and everyone else in the house despises it.  That moment when I proclaim with a wicked grin “If you don’t like it, go ahead and starve!!!” while I eat my fill knowing full well my son and husband will no doubt refuse to eat a bite.  Ah well, I will work through it, rest assured about that.  As I do, you will be treated to these bursts of instability that resemble that lady in “Fried Green Tomatoes” who took great pleasure in ramming her car repeatedly in those little snot nose bit¢hes car that had the balls to steal her parking spot.  Towanda!!!  Ahh midlife, when breasts and testicles noticeably begin to sag and unless you got thousands of dollars to lift and tuck you live with it until next time when I give you another glimpse into the life of a trucker’s wife.