Summer

I Almost Got Struck By Lightening While You Were Gone

This post is one I am moving over from my other blog, Welcome To CABsPlace, where I am pretty certain I will not continue writing.  That is…unless…someone can come up with a really good reason why I should write two blogs that mostly deal with the same stuff.  This particular post, speaks of doing the single parenting job with four kids and how sometimes, for no seemingly apparent reason, you just encounter turbulence.  I wrote this post originally in June, 2008 and have made only minor revisions. Enjoy, and let me know what you think.

Summer 2009 033 A sunny summer June Monday morning started out peacefully but soon deteriorated into complete and total chaos, then, just as suddenly as it erupted, the chaos evaporated. This kind of disturbance happens routinely in my home and I am often perplexed as to why or how it starts and what to do about it when it does. Today, I did nothing. That seemed to work.

I awoke, as I normally do to the peaceful music of the birds outside my window. These wonderful sounds were angrily disrupted by the grumbling, groaning, clanking, banging noises of the garbage truck makings its rounds on the block behind mine. My oldest daughter, who had rolled in well after midnight last night from an out-of-town choir tour, continued to sleep undisturbed. Now, she doesn’t usually share the bed with me, but this last week she was gone and her room became the laundry room. When she returned in the wee hours of the morning, I was unwilling to move the laundry and my bed, so though I hated the thought of enduring the battle of the bed sheets and her snoring, I suggested she just crash in my bed tonight. I figured if it got bad enough, I’d just go sleep on the couch.

The night passed uneventfully, meaning I slept without disturbance, until around 5:30 or 6, my youngest decided she wanted to crawl in with us. Once cozily sandwiched in between her older sister and me she drifted off into blissful sleep. I rolled over to try to catch a few more winks myself. That’s when the fun began.

j0422197 I was just drifting of into some nice REM sleep when the warm blankets were abruptly pulled off me. I was startled awake by the chill morning air and the loss of the covers. My youngest, sweet cherub that she is, had become too warm and kicked off all the blankets in her sleep. I glanced across the vast bed to my oldest. She was still sleeping soundly. So was my youngest for that matter. The kicking clearly bothered no one but me. I grumpily pulled the covers back up, rolled back over and went back to sleep again. I’m not sure how long I was sleeping before the covers were suddenly pulled off me again. This time, knowing it was my daughter’s kicking problem, I just reached out grabbed the blankets and pulled them back up over my shoulders. I burrowed down into the bed cinching the covers close around my neck. I closed my eyes. I waited. Sure enough, it was only a matter of a few moments when my daughter’s began flailing in an attempt to rid her body of the constricting sheets. That was it for me. I slid out of bed and padded into the kitchen to start the coffee. I was officially up for the day.

Connecting through Random Sound Bites

Later that morning, as I was putting away dishes, my daughter (Number 2) was mixing up pancake batter when an argument arose between my son (Number 3), and my youngest daughter (Number 4) about who woke up first this morning.

I mean, what’s up with that and who cares?

Then there was the confusion about how Number 1’s dirty clothes got mixed in with the clean clothes in spite of the fact that she’s been gone for a week. This then moved into a discussion (okay, it was really an argument) about moving the family computer out of my oldest daughter’s (Number 1) room to the kitchen/dining area where I am now typing on it. Never mind that all school year she complained about having it in her room because she needed to study and no one else was allowed in there to use the computer while she was studying. Sigh. Then there’s the breakfast table conversation which went something like this:

Number 1: I know for sure I’m not going to Elite Private School in That Big City by Puget Sound.

Me: Oh, why not?

Number 1: I’m not so sure I like the city. (She’d just returned from a week long trip to That Big City.)

Me (raising my eyebrows internally): Well, that’s definitely a consideration.

Number 1 (to Number 2): I got some really neat things while I was gone. (Note the random and sudden change in conversational direction.)

j0422455 Number 4: Pass the syrup.

Number 2 to Number 1: Did you get me anything?

Number 4: Is the first gallon of milk already gone?!

Me: No, it’s right here.

Number 1 to Number 2: No, but you can use some of it if you want. (Referencing the stuff she got on her trip but which was not for her sister.)

Me: Number 2, I don’t think we have enough pancakes here. Does anyone want some more? We can mix some up.

Number 2: You mean, Number 2, can mix some more up.

Number 1: Number 2, are you going to be in Youth Ensemble next year?

Number 2: While you were gone I almost got struck by lightning.

I kid you not, that is how the conversation went. That is how the morning went. One random thought after another. Sound bites of our lives, disconnected but fitting together.  The heartbeat of a family simply comfortable with being together.  It sounded like no one was listening to anyone else, but that wasn’t the case.  It seemed everyone was content just to say something, anything even if no one responded to it.  It is enough to make the thinking adult go nearly mad.  Except that somehow, almost miraculously it seems, there was actual dialogue and forward progress on those daily activities that keep a household afloat. Have you ever stopped and listened to the flow of the daily conversation in your home?  Close your eyes for just a second and listen.  What do you hear? Keep your eyes closed, now what do you see?

Expect Occasional Turbulence

Number 2 did tell about her close encounter with lightning, we did finish breakfast fairly uneventfully, the laundry is getting folded and put away, in spite of Number 2 and Number 3 creating an alliance against Number 4. Currently, Number 3 is attempting to avoid changing the sheets on his bed by suddenly developing an interest in reading, Number 1 is agonizing through her allergies by doing the dishes with Kleenex packed firmly in each nostril and Number 4 is refusing to let me type one more word until I give her permission to scoop the dead worm she found out of the pool. None of this would be a problem except now the older kids are accusing Number 4 of digging up the worm and putting it in the pool instead of finding it already there. Hmmm, how would a worm get in the pool on its own anyway? And then, Number 4, when passing through the sliding screen door knocks the screen completely out of its tracks, you’d have thought she was struck by lightening.

There are days in a family that pass by fairly uneventfully, like when all the kids are gone to their other parents’ homes or spending time away with friends. There are other days, when we are all here and things still pass fairly uneventfully but that seems to occur only if I let the kids do whatever they want and make no demands on them. Since that is not  our reality, it is more common that there is going to be some turbulence at points along the way. I know this. I understand this. I expect and accept this. But I don’t always like it.l_60fb08cb5f694286b3a6544b7f9c3f53

At this very minute, there seems to be an unofficial cease fire and things are calm. I wonder how long this will last? It baffles me how the tone in a home can go from blissfully serene to completely insane in seconds and then just as suddenly back to peaceful. It is not unlike being struck by lightening. Sometimes in family life, it feels like you end up dead too.

On the other hand, it can also leave you with the feeling of being more alive than ever.

Categories: Children, Family, Summer | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 4 Comments

Bang Head Here!

bangheadheresignYep!  I have this sign posted in a visible place where I will see it daily.  Most people find it amusing.  Some want it for themselves because they find it humorous.  I personally think it is a sad statement about me that the sign is not a joke for me…I actually use this sign and lately more so than usual.  It’s back-to-school time again and with it comes the usual transition from lazy (or at least very relaxed and unscheduled) days to a lifestyle that moves at warp speed. 

Add to this, that I’ve just sent my first child off to college which is both a blessing and a hindrance all of which equates to one big adjustment for the family.  As if we haven’t been through enough adjustments in the last few years.

I guess the statement, “The only constant is change” really is more true than not.  I should after all this time be getting used to it.

The reality?  I haven’t written as often nor as well as I’d like here of late. 

Currently, I’m working on a piece about the significance of phallic symbols in post modern society.  I know.  I know.  People think I’m crazy, but while the ancient Egyptians were quite open and unreserved about phallic symbols, we as a more evolved culture are less so or so it seems.  I have some theories about this.  I don’t think we are less interested in them.  In fact, I think, if we just look phallic symbols are everywhere.  But then maybe that’s just me…

Stay tuned.  When I get through this next week and I get time to really research this topic, I’ll let you know what I discovered.  In the meantime, if you’re so inspired and you have any information you’d like to add as I develop my thoughts, don’t hesitate to share your insights in a comment here.

Categories: Random, Sex, Summer | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

With Gratitude I Hear My Neighbors Fight

I wrote this poem as part of a writing assignment the same summer I separated from my ex.  Summer 2007.  The assignment was to take the first line of someone’s poem and create your own poem from it.  I, for the life of me, do not remember who the author is to credit this beginning to…but, I’ll figure it out and post it soon.  In any event, I certainly don’t claim the title or the first line as my own original work and I am greatly indebted to the original author for their inspiration.  I’ll do my homework and post the information soon.

With Gratitude I Hear My Neighbors Fight

 

With gratitude, I hear my neighbors fight

Two campsites over

I didn’t know what it was at first

The music of muffled comments

floating through the air

gradually growing in intensity but not too loud

Short staccato vibrations in the otherwise

still summer night.

There syncopated beats

Sneaking in through the window of the travel trailer

I borrowed from friends

 

Looking out, my eyes see the silent, lifeless shapes

of an RV park asleep

A place for happy families vacationing from their real lives

A make believe journey they can escape

by simply packing up

and going home.

They can choose to stay or leave.

 

But not me…for now,

for me this is not vacation

This is real.

Late at night,

in the deep, dark, noisy night

Semis rushing by, air brakes blasting

Their noise chases sleep when it tries to land nearby

Disturbing the silence

Not a hundred feet from my flimsy door.

This is not a vacation, it is my real life.

 

For now it is my escape

From a living nightmare

A nightmare I thought would never end

It is a refuge from hell

A halfway house for my kids and I as we flee Hades

This this is where we live…for now

But this is not our home.

 

With gratitude, I hear my neighbors fight

Two campsites over

the music of muffled comments

Sneaking in through the window of the travel trailer

I borrowed from friends

 

And for now, I know we are safe.

And I hope we will soon be home.

Categories: Adversity, Breaking Up, Change, Children, Creative Writing, Family, Friends, Hell, Hope, Life, Music, Pain, Parenting, Personal, Poetry, Relationships, Single-Parenting, Singles, 40+, Struggles, Summer, Transitions, Vacation, Writing | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

It Was The Best of Times, It Was The Worst of Times

Music can take me places.  I’m sure you know how that is.  You’re minding your own business and suddenly a song comes on that you haven’t heard in ages and then suddenly you are transported.  You’re completely removed from the present to a different time and place, a world ago, a lifetime ago.  You can smell the smells, feel the feelings and suddenly you are awash in memories like you never left that time or place.  Music transports you.  It transport me.  I was just transported.

I have music all over my house.  I have a small house and don’t have a surround sound, piped in, fancy system like some have.  I do like to “feel” my music. Even as I write this, I have my little 5 CD changer in the kitchen (I have one in nearly every room)  turned up to some ghastly number on the volume dial.  I can feel the reverberations.  But, today, a particular song transported me, and it just came on again and it’s transporting me…again. 

The time was not so long ago.  About this time last year, if my memory serves me well.  The song is K.T. Tunstall’s “Heal Over”.  The events in my life at that time were best described by Charles Dickens in his famous book, “A Tale of Two Cities”.  For me…that time of my life was truly, “the best of times, it was the worst of times”.  I’d left my second husband for the final time.  Divorce proceedings were in process.  It was going to happen.  As a person who walked into marriage the first time with the high fairy tale hopes of “till death do us part”, having to end a second marriage was a devastating blow.  I was in the midst of dealing with that reality and moving back into a house that my ex and his 7 children had just vacated.  And when I mean vacated, I mean vacated.  They took with them things I will be paying for, for many years to come. Things that were purchased at Christmases and birthdays for my children, not his.  And I was left with a house that was little more than a wreck. (No, I’m not bitter or anything.  LOL!) I was embroiled in a battle that had every potential to get very ugly and I was very scared.  It was very possible that I could end up homeless and in debt and, because I had no way to provide for my children, I was afraid I might lose them.  It was the worst of times.

But…it was also the very best of times.  While I was out of my house because I had to leave under police escort to protect myself against a volatile spouse and get what I could in the 20 minutes they allow, I was able to see and experience the goodness and love of friends that I might never have otherwise experienced or known.  I had friends offer me their travel trailer so my youngest and I would have a place to stay for a month while we finished out the school year.  I had other friends offer me a housesitting job while they went vacationing.  That got me through the month, and to the court hearing where I was awarded the house and full custody of my youngest daughter.  And in the background of all of this, K.T. Tunstall’s song, “Heal Over” was playing.  Playing. Playing.  Reminding me of what my mother always used to tell me, “This, too, shall pass.”  And…it did.

I ended up being awarded my house, my ex disappeared rather than creating a crazy scene, I did get all the marital debt but I have my home and don’t have to move four kids out to a rental and worry when I will get 30 days notice so they can put the house up on the market.  I’m safe.  My children are safe and all the fears I had at this time last year have dissipated into nothingness.  But that song, that particular song, takes me back.  It takes me back to a time of uncertainty and transition.  It takes me back to a painfully difficult time of learning to parent on my own, and of learning what it means to be a homeowner.  It takes me back to hot, sweaty days of having to repaint, repair, clean out, fumigate, and scrub, scrub, scrub every surface and cabinet to make my home clean and liveable for my kids and I. I takes me back to spending a month trying to figure out how to clean out a pool, finally having to drain it completely and start over.  It takes me back to days, when filled with fear and uncertainty myself, I had to be strong and hopeful and positive for my children.  It takes me back to days, where we pulled together, attempted things we didn’t possibly think we could handle in a million years, and we did more than just handle them and we did them well! 

That song takes me back.  Heal over?  You bet I’ll heal over.  Make no mistake about it.  

It was the best of times and the worst of times but, funny thing, all I have are good memories.

Categories: Adversity, Breaking Up, Children, Family, Family Life, Friends, Hope, Life, Music, Pain, Parenting, Personal, Relationships, Single-Parenting, Singles, 40+, Summer, Transitions | Tags: , , , , , , , , | 4 Comments

Life is Grand….Life Sucks!

Life is good…life sucks.  I live with these two conflicting realities daily.  I suspect I am not alone.  Today alone life sucked and life was grand all in the same 24-hour period.

To start with, the weather continues to be record-breakingly hot.  And, now, we are having fires in the area which creates smoke and haze.  For me, since I’m not asthmatic, this is not a problem, but the haze has been so heavy that even I am struggling to enjoy breathing when outside.  In addition, I am having to run my air conditioner, which translates into higher electric bills for me.  That part of life sucks.

But, I was awakened this morning by the sound, of all sounds, thunder!  The crisp, loud boom and crackle of thunder followed by the loud pelting of summer rain on my back deck covering was a welcome sound.  It was a warm summer morning rain that brought momentary refreshment to what has been an exceptionally stifling hot summer. That was grand!

Then, somehow, the son, decided he wanted to be argumentative.  You see, today is the day my three older children left to go for two weeks with their dad. He, of course, had not cleaned up his room and therefore I woke him up earlier than the other children so he could get that taken care of before he left.  Yes, I’m a mean mom.  I do expect that my children participate in chores and duties around the house…and a fairly orderly bedroom (not perfect, but orderly) is part of the deal for me.  So, of course, I awakened him far too early and he grumbled and complained.  I had to really hold my ground with him, and since he was really working hard to tick me off (and nearly succeeding) I had to continue to remind myself, this too shall pass.  Life at that moment sucked.

Then, suddenly, the dad arrives, all the kids are tumbling out the door with their possessions and stuff and the house is, at once, wonderfully silent and dreadfully vacant.  Life sucked but it was also grand all in the same moment.

Later today, I was tasked with helping my second oldest find a swimsuit for vacation.  Not an easy task at this time of the year since there is little to choose from in our neck of the woods and also since her dad places such strict requirements on her for her attire.  Searching every store in town sucked. 

But then, finding the right swimsuit, which we finally did, at 70% off, was grand!

Spending the evening completely alone, doing whatever I want, whenever I wanted, was absolutely grand.

Listening to the thunder and anticipating another summer storm (which has not yet materialized) was also grand.

Missing my kids is not so grand. In fact, it sucks.  I walk past their empty (clean, but empty) rooms and I miss them so deeply it physically hurts.  Definitely, a not-so-grand experience.

Life is grand…and yet it sucks…all at the same time.  This is what makes up our human experience. 

And, fortunately for me, today, I did not experience any of those really devastaing blows such as the announcement that a loved one has a terminal disease or that I do.  I didn’t learn that my spouse was no longer in love with me and I did not walk into a number of other very real tragedies that other people in this world are currently experiencing.  I’m thinking of my friend across the country who mourns the loss of his mother who recently passed.  In light of this, I am grateful that my kids love me, they are healthy, I am in good health and of sound mind…well, okay…at least mostly sound mind. I am employed and able to provide for those I am responsible for.  I must conclude that though I am uncomfortable with or don’t like parts of my life, for the most part I really have it pretty good. 

Life today, for me, is more on the grand than the not-so-grand side.  I’m grateful for that.

What side of life are you on and why?

Cat  (a.k.a. The Wild Mind)

Categories: Adversity, Children, Family, Family Life, Friends, Life, Parenting, Personal, Relationships, Single-Parenting, Struggles, Summer, Vacation | Tags: , , , , , , | 6 Comments

Entertaining Toads In My Backyard

I should be getting ready….but I’m not. My relatives will be here in just about an hour…and I have not even showered, dressed or done the dishes that are still sitting in the sink from last night. Ewwwww! I know, it’s deplorable. I don’t have one of those modern conveniences known to most as a dishwasher in this late 70′s model ranch-style fixer of mine, so dishes invariably stack up, either in the sink before being done or beside the sink after being washed. I really “should” get moving, but this is more fun.

I was up early this morning, watering the back yard before the sun turned up its scorch-ometer. I got distracted. I began trimming back a rose bush, moved on to adjusting a few of the flower bed retaining bricks, and stumbled upon a huge toad in the process. There it was, burrowed down in the mud where the water from the lawn was flooding into the holes in the unfinished brick walkway, big bulbous eyes watching me. It almost startled me, he was so unexpectedly sitting there minding his own business and I was reorganizing his world. I stopped and moved carefully around him. I love the toads that inhabit my back yard. In the evenings, the combined noise they make is nearly deafening but, to me, the sounds are music to my ears. I am entertained every evening of the summer with a beautiful orchestra of natural sounds made by these interesting creatures.

My reverie was disturbed by my youngest daughter, Claire, now seven, calling, “Mommy! Look!” I glanced up to see my blue-eyed blondie, with hair flying like some wild Medusa, come careening around the corner of the house holding firmly but carefully in each hand a very large toad. I opened the gate for her so she could join me where I was. We marveled at her find. Since her youngest days frogs and toads have been among her favorite creatures. We have a collection of ceramic frogs and toads in various locations throughout our home. They are all Claire’s. The two toads were nearly as big as the one I’d discovered. Claire brought her trophies to me, beaming with pleasure. She knows by now how to handle the creatures with care, but she still cannot resist picking them up and handling them whenever possible. In this instance, the toads had hopped over to the dogs’ side of the yard and were in danger of ending their lives early. Claire was bringing them over to the side of the yard where the dogs were not allowed and where toads were most welcome and safe.

I motioned to her to come closer and told her of my find. “Where?” she asked. I pointed. She didn’t immediately detect the camouflaged creature who had retreated even further by now so that his eyes were just above the water line of the puddle. With my hand on Claire’s shoulder, her hands full of toads, dangling in mid-air, I pointed to the third toad. Claire gasped then chortled with delight, “Three huge toads!” She put the other two down on the bricks next to the third one. Then like the considerate animal lover that she is, she stepped back and just watched. We enjoyed that moment together, the two of us, watching three beautiful toads remain motionless as they in turn watched us. Soon the toads would relax and begin hopping toward more suitable hiding places. I was concerned that if they were not removed further away from the gate that they might soon end up as playthings for our two dogs. I suggested that Claire move the toads to the flower beds on the other side of the yard. She willingly and eagerly complied.

This is how my summer mornings are usually spent. This why I love summer so much. It is during this season, that I can putter around the yard moving at whatever pace I desire, from project to project as suits my fancy. I am truly led from one distraction to another until the yard is weeded, pruned, trimmed and watered. It is the toad moments, however, that make it all worthwhile. The sun warming the unfinished brick walkway. My tanned daughter, with the sun glinting off her blonde hair exploring the far reaches of the yard for the millionth time uncovering worms, spiders, insects and, yes, our friends, the toads. These are the moments I cherish. These are the memories that I vow to take with me into the school year when the weather turns colder, the yard goes dormant and the stresses and demands of a single mom of four, with a full time career push back into my life. It is these memories that will provide my mini vacations throughout the school year, providing brief moments of serenity until, finally, after the mad dash through the seasons toward spring and the end of another school year, I can return to my backyard and visit with the toads.

Now, an hour later than when I started, I am no further along than when I began, but I am happier and more at peace internally and that is really where the quality stuff of life exists. But now, I have people buzzing in on IM, children desiring my attention, guests on the verge of appearing on my doorstep, dishes still to do and a shower to take, so while I’d love to disappear here for a bit longer, I must go. Until next time, be sure to enjoy the simple unexpected pleasures of the toads in your backyard!

Categories: Children, Family, Gardening, Life, Personal, Single-Parenting, Summer, Toads, Vacation | 2 Comments
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