Clothing Optional

I am not very good at weather. I don’t have a very good concept of what temperature is considered cold, which is hot, etc. I mean, some are obvious: 100 is hot, 20 is cold. It’s all the temps in between that get me a little confused.

You must understand that I grew up in a household of women, with one man: my dad. And his main jobs were to kill bugs, take out the trash and tell us whether we needed a jacket before we left the house. When I got married, I expected everything to be the same with my family, only now Hubs is supposed to have the answers.

Whether I have watched the weather the night before or not, I ask Hubs what the girls should wear. Is it jeans or shorts today? Long sleeves or short sleeves? Now this isn’t as common in the dead of winter or the peak summer months. It’s mostly Fall and Spring where I have the most problems. It’s just so iffy all the time.

I realized the other day that even though I am well into middle-age and seemingly a very intelligent woman, I still cannot accurate decide these things on my own. Hubs went into work early the other day and I was on my own. And what did I do? I sent my girls to school in shorts and short-sleeves because it was warm yesterday. I didn’t notice at first that my selection was wrong because we park in the garage and the weather isn’t very present in there! We didn’t set foot outside in the real weather until we got to daycare. Um… oops. It’s a little chilly outside. Oh right, cold front.

I fortunately had my jacket in my trunk. The girls were not so lucky. I felt like an absolute idiot. I’m supposed to be a good mom, but just can’t do it without my baby-daddy.

So, you are also in luck, Hubs… I will never be able to take care of the bugs and I’ll always need you to help me figure out what to wear. Probably when we are really old and shriveled up and the girls are fully capable adults, I’ll still need you to lay out my old-lady-wear.

PS: While looking for a picture to add to this post, I found a “what-to-wear-thermometer.” Now I know for a fact that I’m not the only one with this problem. This was probably invented by some husband or father that got tired of the questions!

Although, then I read that it was made for people with autism and other mental disabilities.

Whoops.

P.I.M.P.-ing

This is not a blog about regular pimps… it’s PIMP as in Pee In My Pants!

It seems that my four very large babies did a little damage upon entry into this world. All of my babies were between 8 and 10 pounds. Well, not really 10 pounds… she was 9 lbs 11 oz… so close enough!

I have spent the past couple of years trying to undo the damage with surgery and medication. My main symptom is I am sometimes entirely unable to keep from PIMP’ing. And I don’t know about you, but that is not a very adult thing to do. I have been able to train all four of my little monsters, but Mommy still has trouble making it. Next, I’ll need a diaper bag.

I was at Hobby Lobby this morning, quickly looking for party invitations for an upcoming birthday. Of course, these are way at the back of the store. Once there, my bladder suddenly and insistently said, “Excuse me, Darlin’, you have to go NOW!” No warning… NOW. I think this is what they lovingly call urgency. How quaint.

Okay, go NOW. Problem… it is taking every bit of effort to clinch my legs together in an effort to outsmart my body. I can’t move an inch. Not to mention, I’m so concerned that I look like I’m doing the potty-dance. There is no bathroom in sight and my car is seemingly 4 miles away. And then it happens… leakage. I just PIMP’d.

I quickly sit down in the hopes of stopping it… or for on-lookers, I just needed to check out the stuff on the bottom shelf. I now have no idea how much leakage is now showing. Oh, what I wouldn’t do for a jacket right now to wrap around and hide the damage.

Now, I make the long journey to the front of the store. I’m hoping that no one notices. I cringe every time I see someone, but I pretend that nothing is happening. I feel like it is showing on my face, but I am determined to get out of the store as nonchalant as possible. Really, how many people look at my butt anyhoo.

Well, I made it out to my car. And no one noticed, right?

Although, I keep imagining people talking to their friends saying, “you wouldn’t believe what I saw at Hobby Lobby this morning… a grown woman…” Ugh.

If I had it to do over again…

… I wouldn’t change a thing.

My life has sometimes been filled with turbulence. At times I felt that I was put on this planet to suffer.

I became a mom way before I planned to… at 21. At the time, the worst thing that ever happened to me. But that little “mistake” has become one of the most prideful events in my life. My Boog made me want to be a mom, which I really didn’t want to be before. And because of her, I now have three more kiddos. And my job as Mom is my favorite thing in the world… and one of the few things I feel I am truly good at doing.

I lost my husband in a car wreck, while seven months pregnant with my Weasel… at 23. At the time, the worst thing that ever happened to me. But that tragedy has helped me become the woman that I am today. I now feel like I can survive anything. I have raised two kids practically on my own. It is still arguably the worst thing that has ever happened to me, but the life I lead now is directly connected to that fateful moment nearly 17 years ago.

So, basically the reason I write this now is to share the lesson I have learned. Too often, bad things happen to good people. But those bad things, as well as the good, help carve us into the people we become. I don’t wish bad things on anyone, but I always try to remember that nothing stays the same for long.

When things are good, make sure you notice. Make sure you cherish those around you, and let them know you cherish them. Take all the good stuff in and etch the images inside your brain, because nothing stays the same for long. And when things are bad, make sure you just hold on. Hold on and focus on the images you etched earlier when things were good, because nothing stays the same for long.

In an old movie 1980 with George Burns called Oh God, Book II, the little girl asked why God lets bad things happen. He replied, “There can’t be good without bad, life without death, pleasure without pain. That’s the way it is. If I take sad away, happy has to go with it.”

And I would rather keep happy, even if I have to keep sad.

Sense versus Cents

My newly independent daughter, Boog, has been living on her own for about two months. When she moved out, she had a limited amount of funds in her bank account, and instructions to find a job. Well, as you may know, finding a job is not easy. And she was no exception.

Nothing could have been worse when I get a call from her hearing her quite upset. It seems her money is disappearing from her bank account. How can this be? She hasn’t bought anything since she has been there. She did break down and buy one pair of shoes, but those were from Payless and weren’t very expensive. And she bought one Texas A&M shirt, since she is sticking out like a sore thumb with little to no maroon in her closet. And she maybe went to the grocery store once or twice. How is it possible that she has no money? That’s ALL she bought!

She was able to give me her access codes for her bank account. And I immediately see the problem. She apparently needed to learn that five dollars plus five dollars plus eight dollars plus two dollars plus five dollars plus… equals a lot of money. She needed to stop going to Starbucks, stop eating at Sonic, and stop spending money in small increments. She had gone through nearly $500 buying little or nothing.

She needed to start living like a college student, and start eating like a college student. She needed to buy more ramen and peanut-butter-and-jelly! No eating out… ever. No frills. No mani-pedi’s. Nothing.

Well, it has been about two weeks and she is doing great. It seems she has learned her lesson. She has gotten a job as a hostess at a restaurant. She is eating lots of plain bagels and macaroni, and seemingly nothing else.

And it makes me feel that we made the right decision sending her out of the nest to fly on her own. She is already soaring. And since she learned this lesson so quickly, I can only imagine how far she’ll go over the next several years.

I’m very proud of my Boog.

Just Do What You Are Told

Having two batches of kids isn’t always easy.

I am trying to get the two little ones to learn how to be patient, learn how to pick up their toys, learn not to cry when things don’t go your way. I teach them to just respond, “Okay, Mommy” when they are told to do something.

And the very same time, I watch the two older ones learn how to be responsible, learn how to be self-sufficient, and learn not to cry when things don’t go your way. And I still expect to hear, “Okay, Mommy.”

Then, I realize that there is another person that needs to respond similarly. My Mother.

She was due to retire in July of 2008. She had been looking forward to it for probably the last twenty years, but especially the last four. She was counting down the days. However, when she finally became eligible for retirement, she postponed it for six months. Okay, fine, whatever. Then she postponed it again for a year! Okay, fine, whatever. She said that she would retire in early 2010. Okay, fine, whatever. However, now that 2010 is only a few months away, she is already sounding like she is going to delay it again. Okay, fine, whatev…. WAIT!!

Stop it! Enough is enough. Retire already!

I want to just sit back and let her make her own choices, but it’s not always easy when you don’t agree with those choices. I want to trust that she knows what she is doing, but I’m afraid of those consequences that she just doesn’t see. I want to just let her grow up and figure it out on her own. Do I need to put her in a home to get her to step back? Is that a “time-out” punishment for your parents?

It’s your turn, Mom. You’ve earned the right to retire. Just do what you are told. Okay, Mommy?

Or perhaps I need to learn not to cry when things don’t go my way. Nah.