As most mothers will agree, getting your children to school on time, looking nice with all appropriate parts brushed, is like jumping hurdles every morning – speed is a factor, but over-coming the obstacles is the point of the race.

There really should be some kind of parent Olympics that involve brushing hair without tears, brushing teeth without tantrums, getting dressed without threats and scarfing down breakfast without choking.

I wouldn’t win, I just think it would be fun to watch others go through it.

After all of that is done and the kids are safely at school with a big “I love you” and embarrassing kiss in front of their friends, it usually occurs to me about an hour later that I never ate breakfast.

This morning was a late one, a true Monday, so it was almost 11am before it dawned on me that the shakes I had were from a lack of sustenance and not an overwhelming excitement to be alive.  Thankfully, the kind women I work with made homemade cookies that were absolutely incredible.

I was washing down my second “breakfast” cookie this morning with a French Vanilla Slim Fast, when I laughed out loud at myself.

I eat like a frat boy.

A Slim Fast with a cookie (or two… three if you count the one at the end of the day) is like ordering a big mac and fries with a Diet Coke.  Makes no sense.

I can polish off a pizza by myself, but I’ll drink it with water because water is healthy.  Makes no sense.

When the kids aren’t here and I don’t have to feed the little speed growers, I’ll have chips and salsa and a glass of wine in mom’s special glass that could double as a rain barrel.  Makes no sense.

Instead of taking my own snacks to work, I’ll pick through the kid’s leftover lunch bits and complain of starvation.  Makes no sense.

I’m not sure when the grown up in me will take over my diet decisions, but for now I am content living the Frat Boy Diet and maintaining status quo.

#fratboydiet   #dominosknowsmyname   #veggiepizzaishealthierthanplaincheese   #slimfastforbreakfast   #usanavitaminskeepmehealthy   #goodgeneskeepmyCBCnormal

I have never been a shrinking violet. In general, I know I can accomplish what I put my mind to. I say what I mean, I mean what I say.  And although I actually don’t think I’m anything extraordinary, I’ve learned through the ups and downs in life that I’m tough and will figure it all out… sometimes slowly, but always eventually.

Which is why it chaps my tush that in my hour of need, my husband can swoop in and fix something in 5 mins that I’ve been working on for 5 hours. 

Lawn mower not working… one smack and fixed.

Overhead light blinking… rewired and bright.

Sink clogged… one snap and done.

Closet literally imploded on itself… he knows all the tricks.

Even through the separation, I know I can count on him to show me up (aka: help). 

Except bugs, I have to kill those on my own now.  He’s mean like that.

#closetcatastrophyturnedtoopportunity #stillfriendsafterseparation #partnersincrimeevenafterdivorce #kidscomefirstnomatterwhat #menreallyshouldbethebugkillers

I got up before the sun came up this morning, as usual.

I made coffee in the dark while grumbling about being up before the sun was up, as usual.

I bumped into walls on my way back to my room, while sipping coffee and wishing I wasn’t up before the sun was up, as usual.

I got into a scalding hot shower and waited for the caffeine to kick in, as usual.

Before the magic coffee beans had a chance to kiss me from my trance, I was jolted into focus by a horrid CRASH! BANG! BOOM!

I caused an F6 tornado flying out of the shower to see which one of the kids had fallen and gotten the concussion.  I raced to find them laughing with Phineas & Ferb, absolutely unaware of the reason I would be standing in front of them completely naked, soaking wet and wild-eyed.

I headed back to the bathroom, convinced that I was going crazy, when I passed by my closet and saw that an entire wall of shelving and rods had succumbed to the pressure after 11 years.  The screws holding the shelves, may they rest in pieces, were no where near the studs and left quarter-size holes in the dry wall. 

(There is one tiny but mighty screw left on the wall that I will put in a place of honor somewhere this weekend.  Maybe near the door to hold something light, give him a break after all these years.)

This was, of course, the rare moment in time when all laundry was done AND hung, so practically every piece of clothing I own was on the floor of the closet.  I stood at the door in shock, wondering how in the world I was going to fix this next saga when the shampoo reached my eyes and I went soap blind for the next few minutes.

After regaining my vision, drying off and robing up, I took a little swim through Memory Lane in the closet and found all kinds of tops I hadn’t worn in years in the thigh-high pile of clothes.

I don’t even know where to start to fix this but I do know this… Home Depot is going to have my credit card on speed dial this weekend.

My drill is charging, we are preparing for battle.  I plan to do a lot of measuring, swearing and purging this weekend.  Stay tuned to hear what happens because you know SOMETHING is going to happen… after all, it’s me.

#howdoesallofthisfitinonecloset      #northraleighministriesisabouttogetaseriousdonation   #closetsholdmemoriesandsecrets        #heyivebeenlookingforthat                                                            #someoftheseclothesarefromthe80s                                                                   #nowihavetoplaythedoesthisstillfitgame                                                                     #ihatetryingclotheson

I had dinner with the kids a little early and hit senior’s prime time dining hour. You know the schedule  – dinner by 5p, lunch around 10:30a, breakfast the night before.

So we were talking about our day and I noticed an older couple next to us quietly eating their dinner. They never said a word to each other, just ate and looked out the window.  They looked sad to me so I said a quick prayer of hope for them.

I really should mind my own business…

A few minutes later she asked him for the salt. 

He said “eh?” 

She said “pass the salt!” 

Turning his hearing aid up, he said “What did you say you crazy old woman?”

To which SHE replied “You haven’t seen crazy yet you bald pig, now pass me the damn salt!”

… I get the window focus now. Carry on.

#hishearingaidwasoffforareason

#shescaredmealittle

#shecouldbreakhimlikeatwig

#happilyeveraftermaynotapplyhere

I mop the floors better, faster and without resentment of having to do it again when I’m rocking with Billy Idol to “Rebel Yell”.  The handle becomes a mic, my short hair grows long in my mind so I can whip it around 80’s style (cauliflower bangs included), and he always let’s me sing lead.

Highly recommend. May also work for laundry, but that’s another song for another day for me!

Happy Labor Day!

Sundays are my favorite days.  They seem more relaxed than the others, more family oriented. The kids and I stay in our pj’s as long as we want, I let them watch cartoons as long as they want (well, not really, but more than I usually would), we cuddle and laugh and play board/card games.  We’re like a Norman Rockwell image, with the (sometimes too) occasional sibling argument, a messy house and single parenting.

But when my babies aren’t here, it is my day to make up for the week of messes I didn’t clean up.  My day of rest becomes my day of restitution.  My day to find sanity in the chaos of a tiny house with two children who, God love them, cannot figure out how to put their toys in their room.  I actually believe at this point that they forget where their rooms are and in their confusion, decide the living room floor is the best place for whatever they are playing with.

I find cars in my purse, Nerf bullets in the fridge (we have Nerf gun battles all the time, but how on earth do the bullets get in the fridge?!), Pokemon cards are everywhere… I mean, E.V.E.R.Y.W.H.E.R.E., books hidden between the cushions of the couch, swords hidden under the couch, tennis balls multiply around here… the list goes on.

So for a minute, the house will be clean, fairly organized and presentable.  The little rugrats get home tomorrow though, so it will have that special lived-in look that only children can bring to a house by Wednesday.  C’est la vie.

That incredible moment when you get home, drop everything from the day at the front door, walk to your room, put your fat pants on, take that wicked underwire off, and take the kind of deep breath that only comes on a Friday…

Then you realize you forgot to go to the store on your way home.

Putting clothes back on is too much to ask of me today.

I’ll try to be responsible tomorrow.

#cheeseandcrackersfordinner     #themilkisntTHATsour     #nokidsequalsnocooking     #iamtooyoungtobethistired     #firstweekbackatschoolkickedmybutt     #whatwasithinking   #teachershavemorestaminathanNFLplayers

I stopped at Rite Aid on the way home for a few things.  I worked late so the store was fairly empty which allowed me to look for what I needed in peace.  I was on my last item when someone walked towards me with determination in her eyes.  She was muttering to herself so I didn’t say anything when she nearly walked right into me.

She was on a make-up aisle mission, and you don’t mess with a woman on a mission.  Or she was crazy, you don’t mess with crazy either.

Still muttering, still focused, she bumped into a display and knocked half of it over. I bent down to help her because I have done that before and it makes you feel like a whole new level of idiot.

She said “thanks”, I said “no problem”. She said “this is hopeless”, I said “we’ve all been there sister”. Then she looked up and I saw what was hopeless.

On her face was the biggest zit I have ever seen on any human being. It looked painful and angry, like every toxin in her body was trying to escape through one tiny, tortured pore on her chin. She had clearly tried (and retried) popping it because highlighting the bright, white volcanic center was a ring of both dried and fresh blood.

I let the “oh my” slip before I could catch it (I’m bad at letting things slip lately) and she said “I doubt you’ve been here, sister”. Aside from the muttering and bitterness of birthing what I can only assume was an organ out of her chin, she was a pretty girl and seemed fairly sane, so I asked her what she was looking for. Turns out, her sister is getting married this weekend and she wasn’t sure even Photoshop would be able to erase this monstrosity from the pictures.

I kind of agree with her. Even Superman had his limits.

We stood there for 30 minutes looking for cover-up, powders, Googling miracle zit tricks of the rich and famous, masks, lotions, eye drops (it takes the red out of zits – tip of the day)… anything to help this poor girl.

When we had loaded her basket with options, she gave me a big hug and thanks. We checked out and I wished her well. As we walked into the night air, she accidentally scratched her chin, releasing a white tidal wave of awfulness.

I told her to go back in and return everything. She looked at me with confusion and tears in her eyes. “Make a dermatology appointment and have that thing professionally vacuumed. You’re going to need a transfusion if this keeps up.”

She left laughing and told me I reminded her of her crazy aunt who has four cats.

Holy zit.

For the amount of money that was spent on new school clothes, supplies, lunch boxes, lunch box fixings and shoes that seem too huge for my little babies to possibly fit into, I could be…

In an ocean front house in Ocean Isle for a long weekend.

Wearing a diamond necklace from CMI.

Headed to Vegas with plenty to lose and plenty to get home with.

Enjoying a maid service to clean this house (our current maid -me- should be fired).

Installing heated floors in the bathroom.

But I’m happy to give all that up for these babies that I love more than life itself… because one day they are going to be pushing my wheelchair, and I do not want it pointed in the direction of Shady Pines.

Happy first day of school everybody!

Did I miss a memo… When did Whole Foods become a living, breathing Match.com?

I was the only one there without an inch of make up, a push up bra and an agenda.  And to make matters worse, I forgot my reusable shopping bags which earned me more than one dirty look.

I got everything on my list as quickly as possible and was waiting at the registers when I saw a couple in their late seventies/early eighties sitting at a table toasting each other with paper cups.  Very sweet.

When I was done checking out, I asked them what they were celebrating.  She said they met at a Whole Foods a few years ago and fell in love.  They’ve been coming to celebrate every year since this store opened.  He kissed her hand in Clark Gable fashion and said she was the girl of his dreams.  She blushed like a school girl, and held his hand to her cheek.

It was like stepping back in time, when a man courted a lady and a lady let him sweep her off her feet.

So, happy 4th anniversary to the lovebirds at Whole Foods.  May you have many more paper cup toasts and inspire these “young people” to revive the art of romance.

#thereismagicinthewholefoodsair    #youarenevertoooldforcupidsarrow     #papercupscanbeincrediblyromantic     #itsthelittlethingsinlife     #hewas80beforehefoundtruelove    #shesnaggedhimwithhersmile