Practice

This year, as every other year in recorded history we have practiced. The game goes like this. My job is to make up scenarios for the children wherein they receive gifts like a) nicely wrapped dirt; b) socks; c) sweaters knitted from dog hair....

Their job is to genuinely come up with a thank you and a reason to be happy for the gift.

Because children must be trained to not only a) not embarass this mother, but more importantly b) realize any gift they receive in their life is an expression of love. It means that the giver has had them on their mind. That they took the time to try. That they are loved and fortunate.

So far they have proven their ability to be genuinely excited about some seriously weird stuff. Its hereditary.

Little lady

I have a girl that drives me nuts. She dresses funny. She's loud and opinionated. This kid has never met a stranger and she openly chastises smokers in public... Loudly. She chatters constantly without much real content. And just when I think my head will explode with the sheer presence of her, it hits me.... This is why I adore her guts. She is unique and won't be pushed around. She loves with wild abandon. She wants to save the world. And while I wish she would share at a slighlt lower volume and pitch, she absolutely still wants to share with me. On purpose. And anyone who can dress like she does on purpose is always good for a chuckle. so I hang in there. I buy earplugs. I give her artistic freedom. And I love her guts.

Coordination... Where you at?

Last night, my kitty was trying to love me into doing his bidding. He firmly believes that by winding through my legs and purring as I am trying to walk, that I will suddenly realize "oh!!! I don't need to move, just feed the kitty!". Alas, forward motion, stairs, and a kitty only equals my big butt crashing to the bottom of our basement stairs. Daniel got so tickled at his mental imagery of me tumbling ass over teakettle that I had to leave the room before I stopped loving him.

Today I asked Ted to feed the cat. Tomorrow, he may not get fed. In the meantime, my sore self is gonna sit in this ever-loving chair and mentally whine about it all for a little while. Because we all know it isn't really the cats fault. Give me a hundred feet if level, un-cat-inhabited ground and I will still stumble. I'm just that good.

Nothing is as it seems

Just sayin

I am missing my brother. Not more, not more significantly, not more deeply. Just the same. Forever. Never ending. A year is nearly passed. I still pretend he isn't gone. I wish he wasn't. But he is. Forever. And it sucks.

Who'da thunk it?

My oldest is grown and gone. The baby boy is in middle school. The baby girl is halfway through grade school. And I sit in my hybrid car on my smartphone, blogging. I believe we are closer to the Jetsons than we realize.

Hummingbirds

I have found a destination, thanks to my good friend Susan, for my mother and I to make a trip.

Get ready Mom!!

ROAD TRIP!!

Ghosts

Lately, I've been surrounded by ghosts. Not the white sheeted apparitions that go boogety boo, but the whispers of yesterday that sometimes shout.

This weekend, for instance, my mother's side of the family had a reunion of sorts. The location was my mother's elementary school. To get there, one has to travel past all the places that were a part of my everyday as a kid. As I drive by my old house, my grandmother's old house (there is no house, my cousin lives on the property, but I can still see it if I look just right), by the non existent store (Wheatley's) that was turned into a storage shed for a repair shop, past the grocery store where my mother never had to show her driver's license to cash a check, I hear the whispers of all those memories. I can see glimpses of how I used to spend my time in my room in that old house, where the spring was by the back right corner of the house, when the car slid off the upper road over the hill that winter it was slick as snot. The bad memories fight for their turns to be heard, but mostly the good ones win. But even when they shout, they are still just whispers.... I can't touch them. Many of the buildings are gone. The old schoolhouse... .Man... so hard to believe as I walked in that I had my baby shower for Cory there twenty years ago. My grandmother had her 70th birthday party there around that same time, maybe even that same year... and she's been gone so long. The times we traveled those same roads to visit with family out on the ridge. To drink from the dipper cup... the coldest well water with a tang of metal. To smell the foods that they loved to cook... beans, potatoes, cornbread, ramps, things I have never wanted to taste but love to smell cooking. These things are threads in the fabric of my life. (Cue the corny Cotton Commercial soundtrack). Nothing has stayed the same. Everything changed. I just have to keep remembering it and looking forward. Because if I just dig my feet in to make time stop, I'll never know what joys are around the corner. And from the memories that are rushing around in my head, I just know there are more to come.

Soundtrack of my life

As a little girl, my dad was always going to car shows. Oldies wove itself into the tapestry of my life. If you have ever met me, knowing some of the songs that stuck in my mind early on may explain some of my quirks.

Early Childhood

Pink Shoelaces... Dodie Stevens
Chantilly Lace... The Big Bopper
Purple People Eater...
Yaketty Yak....
Gimme Dat Ding...



As I grew and developed my own collection of songs, I pulled many from the vinyl records that were available to me... Yes.. VINYL... AS IN RECORDS...

Adolescence

Hello Muddah, Hello Faddah

Anything Ray Stevens (Freddie Feelgood and his Funky little Five Piece Band, Mississippi Squirrel Revival, Jeremiah Peabody's Polyunsaturated Fast Acting Quick Dissolving Pleasant Tasting Green and Purple Pills)...

If You Wanna Be Happy For the Rest of Your Life (Never Make A Pretty Woman Your Wife)

Don't Worry, Be Happy

As I branched out in my teenage years, all of the above would pull me out of my requisite angst immediately. But so much weirdness was out there to discover


DJ Jazzy Jeff and The Fresh Prince
Weezer
Weird Al
Flaming Lips
Cindy Freaking Lauper
Sir Mix A Lot

I have slower, ecclectic, jazzy tunes that I like. I love almost all music... genre, beat, instruments aside.... But for all time and all seasons, nothing can bring this girl to the smiley face and immediate happy than the wackadoo tunes.

Just another peek into what makes this hippo tick.

The continuing adventures of Figurative Girl and Literal Boy

Neighbor Jenny dubber our eldest children (that still live at home) Figurative Girl and Literal Boy. Her daughter lives in a world where all things are possible and imaginary play if the preferred MO. My son looks at the world in mostly black and whites. Definites. He dislikes all the fantasy play (unless you are dueling him in Yu Gi Oh). Yesterday their exchange went a little like this:

Too Loud for All of the Great Outdoors (little sister, as she wanders up the sidewalk from the rear of the house): hmph... Figurative Girl and Literal Boy are having a conversation. BLAHHHHH BLAAAAHH BLAAHHHH (sings and dances away)

Tiny Person with Big Personality (baby brother): A WEEE YAH... let's play in the back yaaaaaaaard.....

Figurative Girl and Literal Boy enter scene

Figurative Girl: I was talking with Literal Boy about how close I could be to the swing without getting hit. I was confident that the unicorns would swoop in and protect me with magical rainbows...

Literal Boy: Based on my projected swing pattern, wind speeds, and her proximity to my feet, I knew this was going to end badly. I attempted to explain the risks...

In a jumble of their combined protests, it was discovered that contact had been made and Literal Boy's cheesestick snack had fallen to the ground half eaten. I offered him a replacement.

Literal Boy: I was only going to try one. If you give me another, it will not soothe me. I lost my appetite as the stick fell to the ground. Although, I am famished.

Figurative Girl: I tried to tell him I was sorry. But he said I had a 1% chance of learning anything. Ever.

*** Names, some portions of the actual dialogue, and snack preferences may have been changed to protect the innocent, amuse me more, or just for fun.***

Easter 2011

Easter 2011, a set on Flickr.

Big bunch o silly

Dreams/Nightmares

On a good night, I can dream about good things. Riding a horse in my flowing gowns as my silken hair flows behind in ripples. Even better than having a figure that is fit for flowing gowns, or having my youthful silken hair back, would be the ability to ride the damn horse again. In my dreams, I am able to bound up on the back of a mighty steed and I can run and move lithely. In my dreams, I am freed from the shackles of my crappy body. I like those nights. There is never a real theme or plot to those dreams, just freedom and wind and mobility.

On a dark night, I am likely to dream of my aunt Kay's screams. Those screams will haunt me for the rest of my life. I woke up in paradise to hear those screams ringing out the death of my brother. Those are the worst nights. Sometimes that sweet grey lump in my head likes to mix it up and throw in the emotions and terror that missing children and untimely departures of spouses bring on. I don't look forward to those nights. Why can't we have a menu like those lovely old juke boxes of yesteryear? Just plug in G54 or H72 for a night full of dreaming and smiles?

Today's prayer

Dear Dude in the Sky,

Pretty pretty please help me to make it through this day. It is not yet 9am and I am trapped in this office, alone, with a strep ridden six year old. Did I mention she is watching uninterrupted episodes of the Littles? Loudly. And she doesn't seem to need to stop talking to do it?

So I beseech you to give me truckloads of patience and understanding today. TRUCKLOADS.

Happy Birthday Shannon

On this day in 1977, my parents brought their son into the world. He would have been 34 today. His laughter could melt you. He scrunched up his shoulder and his face and snickered. He always did that. Mom is determined not to fill this day with the sadness of our loss, but the joy that he brought us.

BIRTHDAY BOY


Happy birthday, Shannon! I will always love you.

My give a shit is busted

Everybody knows my brother died. Today was six months since it happened. I feel weird saying anything about it when time has passed, because I don't want to discuss it really. I just want to say all the things I think, shut them in a closet and walk away. I don't want to hear how sorry people are he died. I don't want hugs, most of the time. Because really his death has left me in a feral place. I am a generally pleasant person, at least outwardly. I hide all my icky meanness inside like a good citizen. But lately I feel like a trapped animal. Like I am just waiting for danger to strike and I must stay tensely vigilant to prevent the attack. I want to howl at the moon and beat people for no good reason. When people of no relevance to me pour out their heart about matters that mean absofreakinglutely nothing to me, I want to bare my fangs and rip out their throat and piss on their remains. I want to mark my territory and march along the boundaries with the stink eye ready for those who dare cross it. Because all the things that are wrong cannot be fixed. He is dead. We weren't close as adults. My own mortality is a hair's breath away. My children could die any second. AND THERE ISN"T A BLANKITY BLANK THING I CAN DO ABOUT IT. At the cemetery today a man and his friends rode up on four wheelers. I didn't recognize them. They dismounted and approached my father for conversation. They asked if his boy had gone to WVU (they were thinking of our cousin Al's son, Big John). Before I knew what I was doing I had moved to my dad's side and had to bury my face in his shoulder to keep from literally staring this man and his companions down. To keep from saying something evil and mean and designed to chase them off. I have no hackles and yet they were raised and my blood boiled.

I struggle to keep my temper even with those I love and cherish. I want to enjoy every minute as though it could be our last, but I cannot. When Aurelia asks where Shannon is, I know it is her trying to figure out life and death and the hereafter. But all I can think is "I have already told you all I know and I know nothing. SO STOP ASKING." I have an addiction to yarn. Yarn doesn't talk or ask or look at me knowingly. Yarn is yarn until I make it something else. And then it remain inanimate.

Time Marches On

So much happens in March in a normal year. My parents wedding anniversary, birthdays, St. Patty's day.... But this year, it is all a blur. It will mark six months since my brother left us. He would have been 34 this year. Some days I think it will all be ok. It's almost like he isn't gone. We didn't see each other alot, so I can pretend. Then it hits me. And while I am down it hits me again. I am so guilty over all the things that I didn't say or do, over all the things I did say out of spite or anger, over things thought and never uttered... good and bad.

When I'm not riddled with guilt or sadness, I remember all the times we spent together. And wish for more. I wish I had never joked about being the favorite. I wish I had played every game he ever asked me to play. I wish I had listened more to the things he was interested in. Last year, I didn't even think to give him a birthday present. Granted we didn't regularly exchange them, but he surprised me with a purple hippo bank. I scurried around and got him a Shoney's Big Boy on Ebay. And now every day I look at this picture of him and cry. But they aren't all sad tears. Not all of them.

Happy Valentine's Day.....

Children sent to school with box of mandatory valentines. Check.

Aurelia's were filled out, Daniel prefers to hand them out blank.

Children and husband given mandatory chocolates. Check.

Plotting my husband's demise for thinking a peck on the cheek is a good Valentine. CHECK

Perhaps I will be surprised. Perhaps not. It's not a real holiday anyway.

:)

Bliss

This morning I woke from such a wonderful dream. I have no idea what it was or how it went, but it left a residual euphoria that I wish I could bottle. After getting the kids ready and leaving for work, I caught sight of such a beautiful morning sky that it took my breath away. Such vivid, tranquil colors in the clouds and a light breaking through. It assured me that if the afterlife in Heaven is even a fraction as peaceful and joyous as those few moments there is nothing to fear. Little hello's from our departed loved ones may not be loud, but they are everywhere.

2011... twenty years

This was initially supposed to be a post around the first of the year. But I haven't really been plugged into my community in the last few months.

This year will be my twentieth as a mother. So much has changed in two decades that it is surreal to look back and compare then and now.

For instance:

Then: I had never carried a child inside my body. Never nursed a child. Never been fully responsible for a life, including my own.

Now: I have had three beautiful children. My child bearing days are over. I will never again be a biological mother or nurse a child. I am more likely to be a grandmother.

Then: Life revolved around my interests and desires. High ranking issues included music, television, school crushes, etc.

Now: Life revolves around things beyond my control. Safety for my family, food, shelter, instilling values and compassion in the little people I must soon let go.

Then: I had no nieces or nephews. I was a niece.

Now: I have one of each. I love them unconditionally, like my own children, and wish I could see them more.

Then: I had a brother. But no clue what it would be like to lose him.

Now: He is gone and I can't even call him and tell him how much I love him.

Then: I believed when I had children I would have oodles and they would love me because I was super cool and could be talked to about anything.

Now: I have kids, just three, I couldn't be less cool, but they still love me. Just wish the big one would talk to me more.

The last twenty years have flown by. The next twenty will likely go even faster. Tonight I will pop the corn... watch the movie... savor the time.