Lately I have experienced a certain level of unease which I think stems from all those pre-menopausalhormones 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.
When this blog hop was first posted, I was caught scratching my head and my a$$ wondering what in the world I could brag about. The first thing that flew into my addled brains was absolutely nothing. I am not a bragger and am usually annoyed by people who do. It is just rude. At first glance, I considered not even writing this post. I mean really, I don't do anything that is really that special to brag about or even waste breath repeating. After reading some of my fellow writer’s post submissions, I was finally inspired.
When my daughter was born in 2000, I quit my job to be a stay at home mommy. At the time my identity was firmly entwined with the position I had held for 6 years. At the end of my pregnancy I was miserable and I just wanted to escape the pressures of my full time job. By that time, I was on bed rest. I had an excuse to not go back to work until after the baby was born. It seemed so much easier to be home. I looked forward to the birth of my baby. My husband and I both decided that we wanted our kids to be raised by us, instead of babysitters. We knew the road to the future would be rocky with only one income, but that was the sacrifice we were willing to make. With my husband being an over the road truck driver, we felt it was important that at least one us could be with the kids 24/7. Although there have been those that had plenty to say about the fact that I stayed home and continue to have a big problem with it because they didn’t get to, it has worked OK for us.
I began writing online in 2009. It was something that fell in my lap. I had seen an opportunity online to work from home and I filled out the questionnaire and promptly forgot about it. I had prayed to G0d hoping for some kind of answer of what I was to do with my life. Was wiping noses and butts the best it was ever going to get?? I asked Him to show me what I should do. Within days this company called me up and told me they wanted me to write reviews for them. They would set me up with a website for a fee, and I could make the money back writing reviews. Thinking this was G0d’s answer; I began to write and discovered I seemed to have a knack for it. Slowly but surely my personality and voice emerged. I discovered I really loved to write. I loved the interaction I got with the outside world. I loved blogging with groups. When the company went under last year, I started a new website from scratch on blogger and went on. Recently I redesigned it again changing color schemes and adding an avatar of myself and a dancing replica of my dog Jolly. This time I didn’t have to pay someone to do it for me. I did it on my own, and I am extremely excited and proud of my accomplishment.
When asked what I wanted to be when I grew up, I always wanted to be an artist. I went to school for graphic design, and now I feel I am living the dream. I am a full time mommy, and I am pursuing a passionate hobby that gives my creativity a place to flourish. I am so glad I found that I could write and have my creativity's thirst quenched. It is good for what ails me!! It would be great to get paid for it, but I am just as pleased to write for the fun of it until next time when I give you another glimpse into the life of a trucker‘s wife.
Everyone everywhere needs a daily dose of solitude to reclaim their sanity. Sometimes it helps to step back and just breathe. I was being conditioned to enjoy solitude from as far back as I can remember. I didn’t always enjoy it and at times dreaded time alone, felt tortured, and isolated. Somewhere along the way I realized I needed to learn to enjoy my own company, then I got to the point I preferred it.
Because there was a 7 year age gap between me and my sister, I learned early that as far as playmates went, I didn’t have any. She certainly wanted absolutely nothing to do with the likes of me. I had to learn, and learn quick how to amuse myself and be comfortable playing alone. I would have given anything to meld perfectly with a group of friends that accepted me and wanted me around. Even if I felt included in early grades by the time puberty hit, I was abandoned by my peers and forced to wander the outskirts of the social clicks.
My feelings were shattered by the rejection. I always felt my mom was in denial about my level of popularity among my peers. Just because everyone I passed said hello at school functions, it still didn’t mean they included me. They were friendly, and I was always the outsider, although in hindsight after being hurt time and again I believe I learned to hold everyone at arms length. After a while I found I loved to read and far preferred my books to the ridicule I found outside their pages. It certainly was more fun than trying to figure out why I wasn’t accepted or what was wrong with me.
Up until the time of my mom’s death, I had her as a faithful companion. We had so much fun and were like two peas in a pod. When she died I was forced into a solitude like I never had known before. I went to work and came home to a deathly silent house. I began to watch videos and play piano to break up the monotony. I would do anything in those dark days following her death to break the silence. I rushed out to the bar scene, made friends that were here today and gone tomorrow, and when my Dad came home slowly became dependent on his company. I realized how much I enjoyed my Dad’s company and how funny he truly was. By the time he died, I had a daughter and a husband who thought the world of me.
I devoted all my time and energy into my kids. I became the epitome of the stay at home mommy. Last fall, my son left me for kindergarten. I came back into the house and noticed the house was silent, felt empty, and I was utterly alone again. By the time this hit, I had learned to enjoy the solitude. I reveled in the quiet. I busied myself with my writing, buried myself in books as I always had, and got more housework done than ever before. After a week it dawned on me that no one else was in the house save me and my menagerie of pets. If I wanted to play music full blast, who would care? If I wanted to wear pajamas all day, who cared? As long as I was dressed and pressed before my little darlings arrived from school it was all good. I discovered what it was like to go to the store without a couple of kids attached at the hip. I discovered freedom, and I discovered I liked it! I liked the silence broken only by the soft hum of the dryer.
I use this time to reconnect with myself. I have realized that being alone is very much apart of who I am as a person. Why else would I have married a man who chose a profession that has him gone all but 4-6 days a month? It isn’t a life for everyone, but very much a life for me. I enjoy spending time with my husband and kids, but love my solitude and alone time as well. I keep to myself, and always have. After 43 years on this planet, I finally have decided that my love of solitude is OK. It is in these moments when I hear G0d most clearly. When it comes right down to it, I am never totally alone because HE is always with me until next time when I give you another glimpse into the life of a trucker’s wife.
The first thing that popped into my head when I seen this week’s topic was “Nobody leaves this place without singing the blues”. It is what the leader of a blues band tells the kids starring in“Adventures in Babysitting” when they burst onto his stage while being chased by thugs. As I look around my house today, I have the same feeling.
As much as I love snow, looking out the window on dark, gray, January days makes me feel much like the lovable donkey from “Winnie the Pooh”. Ho hum and blah. Where is the giggle in that? Even more depressing, my husband hasn’t been home since the holidays. Just when he is finally on his way home, his truck breaks down and now he is twiddling his thumbs in a hotel in Amarillo, Texas which might as well be on the other side of the world. He has been there 6 days as of today waiting for parts and his truck to be fixed. How do you explain the “why of a truck breakdown” to a 6 year old that fears his Daddy isn’t coming home because he doesn’t like him? A silly fear, but real none the less and one I can remember having when my Daddy was on the road for way to long. Sometimes the life of a trucker’s wife is more complicated and overwhelming than I can bear. Life would brighten up considerably if only he would and could come home.
Depressionsucks, and I will be the first one to admit it. Waking up this morning to discover that my dryer has given up the ghost and no longer is blowing hot air is the icing on the cake, especially with a lot of wet clothes and towels on my hands and no extra money to visit a laundry mat. What’s a girl to do when it is colder than a witch’s tit in the Klondike, plummet further into the depths of despair? Oh hell no! This girl searched the garage for clothes pins and strung the wash up around the house. I have clothes hung on hangers in the bathroom and kitchen. Amazingly enough it works!! Are we having fun yet?? Maybe I can get a hell yeah from the peanut gallery, although all I hear is silence.
Everyone gets the blues. It is the time when everything turns to $hit and you just have no clue how to make it smell like roses again no matter how much Febreeze you spray on it. $hit still smells and looks like $hit anyway you slice it. It doesn’t make you like it any better.
In the center of all this I wake up and find myself singing “Beaner!” at the top of my lungs much like Tommy Chong in that old “Cheech and Chongs” movie. Normal people would be near tears. I am sure my kids think I am certifiable and they wouldn’t be too far off the mark. In essence that is part of my charm. At least it started their day off with a laugh and a few rolling eyes.
Yes, mom is losing it. It is all good, because I have learned to roll with the insanity and even though the blues tend to invade my space more than they are welcome, I always have the ability to eventually find some perverse tidbit like singing “Beaner” for no apparent reason and feeling better. Make sure you strum an air guitar while you do it and you will find it very refreshing. It isn’t the blues, but seriously; I’m not planning on leaving the house until the kiddies come home anyway.
There is still plenty of time to slap a smile on my face and a place a song in my heart. Even if I can’t they will understand. So it is all good. It is a good thing my house sees few visitors since my underwear is the home interior décor of choice today until next time when I give you another glimpse into the life of a trucker’s wife.
