Stumbling Towards Perfect

My office phone rang at noon: Heh-woah? Um, hello? Heh-woah. Id's me - Big V. I'm sick. Leavin' work. I feel like crap. I can't breathe. Ok. I already puked twice. My head is killing me. I keep coughing so hard I'm afraid I'm going to start coughing up blood. Ok. I can't even breathe through my nose, but it keeps running - I've blown my nose so much today. It's ridiculous. Ok. So, I told the boss I couldn't work anymore. Usually I just work through it - but this, this is different. I don't know what's wrong with me. I've never felt this sick before. My head is dizzy and I keep feeling like I'm going to pass out. Ok. Do you want me to pick up the baby? No. *click* Half an hour later the my office phone rang again: Heh-woah? Um, hello? Heh-woah. Id's me - Big V. I'm at WalMart. Ok. I wanna get some medicine so I can feel better. Ok. But I don't know what to get. There's lik

There's my Dotter. The caterpillar. She wanted to audition for a play. Uh... but people will see you. And look at you. And laugh at the lines. And you'll think they're laughing at you . And these will be people you don't know . Strangers. And you won't be able to crawl under the couch. Or duck your head. Or refuse to speak. Or retreat into your other world where only you exist. So. I prayed. And took her. And crossed my fingers. And there she is. Not only as the caterpillar... But also as one of the birds: and as one of the flowers... But my favorite was the caterpillar. Because she wasn't in a group. And she had to be so brave. And she didn't hide. Or cower. Or hate life because she was forced to talk. She was the best caterpillar that I ever saw. I almost forgot that this was the little girl who didn't talk. I almost forgot that this was the little girl we have to remind to look people in the eyes during a conversation. I almost forgo

This is the dog kennel. Also known as Dogcatraz. It is a combination of metal, wood, cement board, extension cords, duct tape and rope. And also a broom. (It's expertly hidden. Like a ninja.) Why do we keep her locked in a kennel? Well.... The dog ate the la-z-boy recliner. And then she ate the couch cushion. And then she rearranged my furniture. And ate magazines. And some books. And Big V's senior class yearbook. And people would cry, " She needs something special !" So we got her a plush doggie bed. And she ate it.

Life would be so much easier for me if my mother wasn't so, well, dependable. For instance, I can depend on her to answer her phone when I call because she almost always does. On those rare occasions when she doesn't, I can count on her to call me back somewhere between minute 1:17 and 2:36 of my rambling, way-too-long-to-bother-with voicemail message I'm leaving her. But the other day she didn't answer my phone call. Or the next one. Or the next one after that. And I got worried. Mostly because I really needed to hop on line and make a money transfer and I had no way of doing it at my house, but also because my mom always answers her phone. And she always calls back. But she wasn't doing either. And that, in itself, is worrisome. So I drove to her house because I really needed to use her computer and also there was a part of me that thought maybe she was just avoiding my call because she was afraid I'd ask her to raise my first born. Again. And when t

One day I decided I would try to normalize myself into society by doing things other normal people did - have a collection; much like I did when I tried to normalize myself by becoming a Regular at Satrbucks. That particular quest failed, but I vowed not to let that deter me from collection success. I figured beer steins would take up too much space and I never understood those miniature spoons people put in frames. Besides, with quarters all I'd have to do is spend money, which I was already doing. (read: required no change in the physical effort I was currently exerting.) Anyway, I basically announced to Big V and Dotter that I was collecting quarters and it would now be their responsibility to look through change from time to time and put the quarters I needed (and they found) in the official quarter collecting map book. The process was grueling, to say the least. They took forever to find Arizona. Now, just when I thought I was done and could pat myself on the back for a jo

In an effort to get Big V to * see * the grand scheme of bill paying, what we owed, what we spend, what we should save for, I passed everything over to him. "Here you go," I happily announced. "YOU deal with it!" And he did. Just not in the way I would have liked. You know, in that, gee we have this electric bill due which means maybe I should pay it and not buy a new lawn mower kind of way. That's what I get for handing over my pay check and my trust. Fast forward a couple months and I'm in a panic because the electric is surely going to be disconnected and I'll have to light candles around the house in order to see and the baby will knock one over and it'll catch the house on fire and then we'll all die. So, I've done what any normal mature adult woman would do in this situation and I've taken the financially responsibility of this family back and placed it squarely on my shoulders. And I've whined and complained and cried and t

I promise to tell you all about our time up north. But for now, I want just one more minute to savor it...

The last time I was on a vacation with my children was never. Unless you count that one time when Big V somehow convinced me that we were going to have a swell time at a resort hotel with his family. And by family I mean his mom, dad, sister, brother-in-law, their two kids, his other sister, his other brother-in-law, and their four kids. With an adjoining door between our room and one of theirs. And the resort hotel was geared for kids under the age of 5, which I didn't have. I don't need to tell you that was anything but a vacation. It was more like a flesh eating bacteria. That you could see. But couldn't stop. Kids everywhere. Upset kids everywhere. And upset adults because no one wanted to watch the upset kids. And it took three hours to decide where to eat dinner. And I only wanted to relax, because being a single mom for the majority of my adult life I've never gone on a vacation so all I wanted to do was sit, and yet somehow it was mandated that I go shopping whi

Many years ago, before scores of mosquitoes had taken over our land, and humans were able to walk the earth without the threat of West Nile virus, I took my (then) little girl for a walk. We went through the back yard, into the woods DEET free, and followed the trail that led to this beautiful little pond in a clearing in the middle of the woods. The pond was clear and full of fish. There was a small boat holding hands with an old wooden dock, rocking gently with the summer breeze. I pointed out the tiny, one bedroom cabin, with its miniature porch and tiny windows. I took the hand of my 4-year old daughter and led her across the clearing, closer to the edge of the water. I showed her a dragon fly dancing in front of us and asked her to listen to the chorus of frogs. And we stood, hand-in-hand, Mother and Daughter, amongst the natural beauty of God's world. And then she screamed. She screamed and screamed and pointed and screamed and I tried to ask this hysterical child wha

For over a year our garage door has not worked. You know, the big overhead door that opens allowing one to pull the car into the garage and park. I guess technically it worked. I mean, it opened. But only manually. Man-u-ally . Meaning "Man, you really have to put forth some physical effort to make this thing work." And you all know how I feel about physical effort. Throughout my entire pregnancy, throughout the entire winter, throughout all kinds of terrible weather, I had to pull in the driveway, put the car in park, get out of the car, walk to the garage, lean down, heft the sucker up (sucker being the big overhead garage door), walk back to the car, get back into the car, put the car in drive, drive forward, and park. You see how utterly exhausting that can be. Especially being forced to do it day in and day out, several times a day. I come from the old school where the Man should naturally possess knowledge as to (1) why the door isn't opening when I click the li

There is nothing as important to this world we live in, than the shared creative talents of those who reside here. I believe that everyone has a talent and you owe it to yourself, as well as to the world, to explore that talent and share it. Erma Bombeck explained it best when she said, "When I stand before God at the end of my life, I would hope that I would not have a single bit of talent left, and could say, 'I used everything you gave me.' "  That's why I get so giddy and spasticly excited when I see someone stepping up and taking charge of their talents. I want to jump around and shout out to everyone that will listen, "You have got to check this out!" Today's shout out goes to my good friend, Melissa, of Melissa Reed Photography . Doesn't she look like she belongs in Africa shooting wildlife? I want her to go so I can be her assistant. As you know, I am a big fan of taking pictures. I like documenting everything around me - probab

I only like to take the baby outside for five minutes between 5:00pm and 5:05pm because that way I don't have to mess around with applying sunscreen or insect repellant, because we all know that stuff will soak into the blood stream and make a baby nuts. Plus, you really ought to wash that stuff off eventually so they don't lick it and, well, let's face it, I'm quite lazy. The kid has a lot of toys in the living room so he's completely entertained and doesn't even mind never go outside in the elements. Friends of ours even lent us this baby cage (decorated in bright primary colors so you don't feel so guilty about keeping your small child locked in a 4'x4' area) that he hasn't quite figured out how to climb out of, and he really enjoys his time in there so I wouldn't be surprised if he's still sitting in it when he's 8. Anyway, I decided to take the baby outside the other day - due to the fact I took one of those grown-up multi-vita

Jelly Bean was away at camp last week. Co-ed camp. Oh, get your mind out of the gutter - the boys were in one cabin and the girls in another, they just did everything else together. For a week she was giggling and laughing and swimming and horseback riding and eating food that other people prepared for her. Then her time was up. Which was good because after seven days Dotter was a complete mess since she doesn't like routine to be disrupted; even if by "routine" we mean the Bean rolling eyeballs and sighing heavily about Gawd! how ridiculous and dorky and uncool we all are. Dotter spent the week sleeping in the Bean's room. And applying Bean's make-up. And dressing up in Bean's clothes. Essentially becoming that creepy roommate who moves in then takes over the identity of the person they're living with. So, Dotter, Cletus the Used to be Fetus, and I drove off, in the rain, to pick Bean up from camp. Big V had to work so I was flying solo on this mission