Changes

Oh GOD! how I hate changes.  I am a routine kind of gal.  I need to know what is going to happen when and how each day.  Throw a monkey wrench into that situation and I can cut you quicker than a cat  on a mouse.

I am not good at this “going through a rough time” thing.  I keep thinking if this was just squared away things would be much better, but the this never end.  There seems to always be another this waiting around the corner to take over the this we just took care of.   And my worse trait is I get angry at those that seem to have pulled out of their rough time, whether I know for sure they have or not.  I pout and think when is my turn to pull out of  the rough spot.

I even got angry at God, yesterday.  Oh yes, I looked up to the heavens, put my hands on my hips and said in a really pissed off tone, SERIOUSLY?  Because, SERIOUSLY, what is up with this shit.  And why should God be immuned to my attitude and tirades.  If anything he should consider himself lucky, because He can probably see them coming.  And what is any relationship without turning to the other person and saying, “Seriously, if you don’t stop I am going to poke you in the eye.”

What was the one more thing that just got piled onto this pile of shit that is growing higher and higher with each waking moment, the A/C in SIL’s house was broken, after we thought it was fixed, and leaking water everywhere.  Why is this our problem, because SIL is no longer here to have the problem.  She passed away on June 17.  I wonder if Amber will ever notice that bad things have started happening on or around her birthday in the last couple of years.  I was hoping it wasn’t a trend, but I am getting really scared.  Last year, a friend was murdered on her birthday.  It is just hard to be happy and sing when you know bad shit has gone down hours before.  Anyway, SIL seemed to fall ill rather suddenly and then pass.  Basically, she had the same kind of cancer that her mother and father had, but she fell much earlier than they did.  She was only 56 years old and no one, NO ONE, expected her to go this early.  The real fucked up thing about all this was that her life finally seemed to be where she wanted it to be.  She was doing something that she loved.  She had an entire community helping, laughing, and living with her and then BAMMED, like a blast to the head it is gone.

So needless to say this has not been the summer I have hoped.  It never is, really, so I don’t know why I keep hope alive.  I should smash it and get it over with.  It has been a summer filled with anxiety, stress, trips to the hospice, making sure nursing homes were treating her well and general suckiness.  It has been hard with the kids, because they have been asked to do and go places that children really shouldn’t go, but I think they have handled it all pretty well.  Amber spoke at SIL’s memorial and did a great job.  Sam asked questions, although sometimes inappropriate and did his best to understand as much as he could.  It really wasn’t that hard when he got plied with ice cream everytime we went to the hospice.  Now, we are dealing with our household and trying to figure out how to dismantle another one.  That is the hardest thing about death, LIFE.  Life continues on whether you are ready for it or not. There is no breather. No time to just grieve and settled for a moment until you continue on with the disposing and selling of people’s things.  The last couple of times I was at the house I could swear I could hear SIL scream at me that what I was about to throw away was really important.  But nope, she wasn’t, it was just me and George faced with what to keep and what to throw out.  To be honest we haven’t even made a dent.  There are many other things that seem to need to be done first.  OR maybe we would just rather the uncomfortable part of going through someone else things and being the final decision makers would go away.

I am in a state of unrest, because I feel our life is in the same state.  And the only reason I believe that is because I have no control.  Like that is any surprise to anyone.  Things run better when they run MY way, unforuantely, the man upstairs tends to do things His own way.  Although, people keep telling me that what is happening is part of the plan and that out of bad times come good ones.  The problem is that I want the good times, now.  I am done with the bad times.  I wish I was one of those people that could push all the crap aside and just smile through it, but I am not.  I am the worrier that plans for the worse.  And now, the worrier is losing hope that good times may ever come.  The light at the end of the tunnel keeps getting further and further away.  I guess it is good that I can still see the light, eh?

I know this all sounds dark, gloomy and call the hotline stuff, but really it is not.  It is just life and we are living in it’s world.  We will continue on doing one thing at a time and doing it to the best of our ability.  We will fall, get angry, say some not so nice words (maybe just me) and pout.  Only to get back up, relax a bit, apologize for the words (again, just me) and try to find the small goodness that life brings along with the mountain of shit.  One day we will look back on this time and wonder how we got through and be happy that we are out of it.  At least that is what SoHubby keeps telling me and I am holding him to his word.

To Amber with Love.

In the beginning:

Bursting on the scene.

Demon baby.
Nah, just a baby not that fond of sleeping.

Radioactive baby.
Just a little too much of the orange stuff, MA!

Attitude baby.
Just trying to relax a little. 
I think you missed the front lawn by a few feet.

Death-defying baby.
You can’t imagine the amount of grief I got from your father for stepping away to
take your picture.
OH!MY!GAWD! She is going to DIIIIIIIIIIE!

Showing my incredible cute side for more food baby.
Uh, yeah.  That is about right.

Totally confused baby.
“I thought the dog slept here.”
Well, if you won’t sleep in your bed. 
Look, we were desparate.  You were bound to sleep somewhere.

Gaining some independence baby.

Never passing up a good meal baby.
Remember when Mommy was so anal retentive that I actually used the correct
days of the week bibs?
What happened, you ask?
Your brother!

Don’t mess with me baby.

Living doll baby.

The middle:

Determined toddler.
WHY! WON’T! THE! BLOCKS! STAY! UP!

Remember the time when you drank a whole glass of Notta Colda?

Vacation is always a lot of fun.
There is always one in the bunch.

Trying new things toddler.
And not liking it, AT ALL!

Finding yourself in weird situations toddler.

Hamming it up toddler.

A glimpse into the future.

More ass kicking and taking names toddler.

Coming into her own:

Never meeting a camera she didn’t like.

First day of school.
And not cooperating.

Take your crazy daugther to work day.

Praying that your parents survive the teen years.

Combat girl.
Always willing to help Daddy in his business.

Um, penguin girl?
Or ready for the casino?

Attitude says it all.
Your budding fashionista coming out.
If only your mother just understood you and your vision.

Football girl.
Only to the extent that the jersey has pink on it.

Blogger girl.
Oh the many sides of you.

Happy 6th Birthday! 
You are truly one of a kind.
With lots of love, Mommy.

 

Thou Shalt Not Covet Thy Daughter’s Dance Class Friend’s Mother’s House

This whole parenthood thing is a secret society. You involuntarily join when you have a baby and then you are further dragged down as your child grows up. The rules are never stated and just as you think you have caught up to them they change with your child’s next birthday.

Since it is Amber’s birthday, I will let you in on the social rules of the child birthday party. First, if you want a big turn out to your child’s party then you will have to bring your child to every party that she/he is invited to. This is where I stumbled and fell on my ass. Most of Amber’s classmates have parties during the school year. After the constant motion of the school year, I am too tired on weekends to drag my two kids to each and every party. Oh I start with good intentions, but by the time the party time rolls around I say, “Fuck it” and move on with our weekend. It is not a good thing and it will change, especially after the turn out at Amber’s party today. Oh sure, I shrugged it off as if all those people were busy on their summer vacations, but I know the truth. They didn’t bother to show up, because they haven’t seen my face at any of their kids’ parties. Okay, note taken. Just don’t get upset when I eat all the cake.

Second, you need to have the party around your area. I am one who doesn’t mind driving all over the city. I am alone in this feeling. Most people that live on the Westbank want to stay on the Westbank and same goes for the Eastbank. Also, I should make sure that the location is visible from the street or you will have sad children who show up just as the party is ending. Got the message and will do better next year.

Third, don’t birth your child in one of the big birthday months. I knew I should have pushed her out in May. We now have 5 children, total, that are born in the first 2 weeks of June. Three on the same day. Really couldn’t we have spaced these kids out a little bit? We have the same problem with September, but it is adults so it isn’t that big of a deal. This will not be the same for every one. Before you give birth check with everyone in your area, who might end up being friends with your kid, and see when they are giving birth, then either hold in or push out earlier depending on your preference.

Fourth, when you have to go to a home birthday party, know that there will be people out there with much bigger and nicer homes than you. This always gets me and it is my biggest problem. I pull into a neighborhood and think, “Oh Shit! We live in a dump.” I don’t know how people can afford these houses, but damn there are some great homes out there. And I love looking in each and every one of them. I love open houses, but I tend not to go for fear of impulse buying. How do you think we got the home we live in, now?

We went to a birthday party for one of Amber’s friends at dance class, after Amber’s party. It was in a neighborhood I didn’t even know existed. I have seen the road that lead into the subdivision, but it looked like a swamp to me. Who knew there were gigantic homes back there overlooking a golf course? As we drove in the houses look normal and then they start to get bigger and bigger, more and more expensive. We pull up next to the little girl’s house and I think, “Yup, We beez white trash.”

There is no basis for this, because my husband makes a very good living, we live in a very nice house, we have no trouble paying the bills or buying extras. However, I don’t think you would walk into our house and be struck with awe. We have an average nice American home. This house, in Richville, awed me before we walked into the door. The thing that I noticed the most was the landscaping, which is one thing we lack over here at the Old Homestead. Although, one that will be fixed with the crack of my whip upon the back of my poor husband. The next thing was the sheer size of this house. When we drove around the neighborhood we saw homes as big as the White House. Some even put the White House to shame. You realize that is public housing, don’t you? Who is living in these homes: Oil sheiks, Cajuns who made their fortune in boudoin, alligator farmers who need to be near the wetlands to find their products? Nope, just basic everyday Americans who have found a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. I didn’t see much of the inside of the house, because the party was outside, but what I did see was enough for me to consider digging in my backyard hoping to strike oil or at least an abundance of alligators.

The last rule is don’t forget to invite any child that your child may come in contact with on a regular basis. This was my biggest mistake. A huge kink in the machinery of my life was the mounds and mounds of dirt my husband thought necessary to dump in our yard. I would rather have the party in our own backyard, because it follows rule number 2, but not an option this year. Then it was a mad rush to figure out who to invite and when to get the invites out. I focused mainly on Amber’s classmates from school. Then we had to move our vacation up and I left the invitations in the capable hands of George’s assistant. It totally didn’t register that Amber’s birthday is the same day as the little girl from dance class and that Amber doesn’t know the fine art of keeping her mouth shut. The whole time we were at the little girl’s party, Amber was telling everyone about her party that she had just hours ago. I told everyone I thought it wouldn’t be wise to invite the same girls and have them try to figure out which party to go to or, worse, hurrying to go to both parties. I mean it was the little girl’s first real birthday party, I didn’t feel right stealing any guests. Besides, these parties are old hat for Amber. She has had a big blow out since her first birthday. So what if she has never had a pony at her party, I think she will survive.

Take my advice and follow the rules and your children will love you forever or until you do something to piss them off. I have failed at all these rules and, trust me, I will pay for it when my daughter lays her big therapy bill at my feet.

Cake for Everyone

Today is the day. Amber is officially 5 yrs old. There will be cupcakes because she is sweet, princess dresses because she is a tyrant, tea because she is a lady and presents because she demands it.

I am still amazed that we have gotten this far. I was certain that one or both of us would have thrown in the towel by now. Her packing her little suitcase and running for parents that were more to her liking. You know, the ones that let her eat candy all day, buy her a pony and generally think she can do no wrong. Or it could have been me, who just gave up and hid in the corner waiting for all this child rearing stuff to pass. Well, it didn’t happen. We are both still here enjoying the good times and hoping the bad times pass quickly.

Amber has taught me a lot about myself and life, in general. She was my starter child that I decided to keep. I learned I could have patience, even if every nerve in my body was telling me, NO. I learned that love could come without knowing the person at all. It would grow the more I knew the specialness that is my daughter. I have, also, been reminded of how much fun it can be to not have a care in the world and play all day. Amber reminds me everyday to remove the stick from my butt and just go with the moment.

She amazes me, thrills me, angers me and makes me laughs several times a day. She is the one that made me a mother and she is the one that broke me in for the rest of the world. Life has been much better since she arrived and there is never a dull moment.

Happy Birthday, little girl, you made me what I am today.

So this is my life, huh? (few weeks old)

Um, I think I can do better. (1 year old)

You people don’t seem so bad. You have a kitty. I think I will stay awhile. (2 yrs old)

Spring break starts early. I knew she couldn’t handle that last Pina Colda. This is the moment, I learned to go with my gut when it comes to parenting. (3 yrs old)

Who could resist that face? (4 yrs old)

Bucking the System

Amber’s birthday will be here soon and I am completely finished with the party preparations. And no, I haven’t been planning this for months. Really, I didn’t start this process until the week we left for vacation.

Since the backyard looks like a mud hole, we (meaning me) decided to hold the party at another location. I heard about a place that does tea parties, but Amber wants a princess party. To hell with that, I decided to call and just see what they had to offer. The lady on the phone tells me,

“It will be $265 for 15 kids. We take care of all the paper products. We will supply some chips and lemonade. There will be real china for the kids to drink tea out of. The guests will enter and choose their costumes, princess of course for the girls, and rock stars for the boys. Then the girls will have their make-up done and then they will be off to a run way show. After the tea and presents, we will have a singing portion of the event. It will take 1.5 hours.”

Perfect, sign me up. No muss, no fuss. The only thing I had left to do was get Amber’s request of cupcakes. She specifically told me no cake. And wouldn’t you know it, the cupcakes cost about $30 less than a cake. They will be pink and blue, because Amber is the perfect hostess and wants the boys to feel welcomed. The bakery didn’t have Ariel trinkets, so we will go with the generic princess ones.(Please don’t tell me where to get Ariel decorations for the cupcakes. I am just not in the mood to find them and then put them on the cupcakes.) Sorry, boys no special boy trinkets for you, but I have learned where there is cake there are children that don’t care what is on it.

Oh no! What about the favors? A party hinges on the favors that each child leaves with to remember their fun day. As if, dancing, dressing up and stuffing their faces with cake isn’t enough. So this year, I say NO! to party favors. Damn the man and all that jazz!

I am not a fan, but understand why parents put so much thought into them. I wish I could come up with something creative and unique, but really I don’t have it in me. Even on the good days, I am left to ponder the offerings of the local Party City or Oriental Trading catalog. I would rather spend my money on more important things, like cupcakes(Dude, did you not read THERE WILL BE CUPCAKES THERE?), than plastic crap for other peoples’ kids. Not that I dont think your kids are just the greatest.

The real problem is I know that all the kids I invited aren’t going to show up, which means I will be stuck with plastic toys that annoy me to no end (I am still left with about 10 little boxes of crayons from Amber’s first birthday party). It, also, means that I will have to “suffer” with extra cupcakes. When we are presented with a party favor bag, I start my thinking of how to rid my house of these little toys that I will find at every end of my house. That might choke my little boy or that break the moment my daughter tries to play with them. God forbid, you give my daughter something that makes noise. Those usually break before we get to the car. So as much as I appreciate the time, effort and thought that a parent puts into her child’s party favors, I simply wish that we could skip that part of the party. I think the party, itself, is enough thanks to my child for coming to celebrate one of her friend’s birthday.

This year, I am boycotting party favors and showing the rest of the world my disgust for the whole process. (Read: I am too lazy to think, go get any favors and know that Amber wont notice.) We will have a great time at Amber’s tea party and if your child is not satisfied by the large amount of cupcakes for him/her to gobble up (I ordered way more than we need. You know, because they are CUPCAKES.), then I cant help you. The only reason I show up is for the cake. You mean you don’t?