Bloggling Twenty-Three, MIA Version

I have been MIA, for this I am sorry.  I don’t know that I have any really good reason for being missing, but I just haven’t come here.  Or to any of your blogs either, which I am even more sorry.

It started out simply enough, in that I was trying to make sure to spend time off of my phone and my computer when I was home with my husband and Mea.  I did a great job of staying off my computer, I had to dust it off, and update a million things before I could even sign on to start this post, I still feel like I am on my phone too much, but it is a work in process.

I really discovered that the majority of my  blogging time was done when I was at work.  Whether it was reading blogs, or writing my blog posts, I did much of it while I was at work.  Which does not really make for a very productive employee.  Regardless, I do miss this place, I do miss your places, and I miss my friends in my computer.

So I am going to try to find a happy balance between everything so that I can get caught up, and still stay in touch with all of you.

 

On to the bloggling…

  • We drove to Ohio to visit Mack and her boyfriend.  It was a great visit, and could have only been made better, if I could have spent a few more days with them.  It was one hell of a car ride, thirteen hours in the car is too much to do in one day.
  • My Mom is doing very well.  Her doctors are very impressed with her health, and she continues to amaze everyone.  Last round of labs, and CT scan came back great, and the tumor on her chest wall may actually be getting smaller.  Her hip is healed, she is off the walker, and only uses a cane when she remembers to use it.
  • Mea has been doing great in school with one exception.  She has a new friend that is causing some issues in the class room.  I had already had some concerns, as we have had a few phone problems, where this girl has called our house well after Mea has gone to bed, or even once at 11:50 at night on the weekend.
  • On more than a few of these phone call interactions I have had with this girl, I have told her not to call our house after 7:30, and I tell her that she needs to get her homework done and get to bed on time too.
  • I have also heard from Mea that she has been absent from school because her parents didn’t want to get up, or they overslept, or the parents didn’t feel good.
  • After much discussion, my husband and I decided to switch her to the school that is our actual school for our neighborhood.
  • There are a couple of reasons, first the school she is attending is considered an “at-risk” school.  Which means that the school has not done well in standardized testing, and the students are not learning at the same rate as the other schools.  I have not been concerned with Mea’s education.  We work with he at home, she likes to learn, and has been at the top of her class for both reading and math.
  • She was only going to this school because it was the only school that our old sitter could take/pick up from, so now that she is no longer watching Mea, it seems stupid to have her go to this school that I really don’t like anyway.
  • She will be attending a grade school where all of the kids in the school will end up in the same middle school.  I worried with her going to the old school that she would have fewer friends going into middle school, and although I know she can make friends, it is easier if you know more people when you get there.
  • Does make me wonder if she will do even better in a new learning environment.
  • We were lucky enough to find a new daycare provider, and we are all extremely excited about it.  Mea is going to go to daycare with her baby nephew, at her sister’s best friend’s house.  She is my youngest stepdaughter’s best friend, and she is wonderful.  Mea can’t wait.  Quite frankly, neither can I.
  • I really don’t like my job.  I am over-qualified for it, my manager is a bit of a spoiled brat, and can’t manage her way out of anything.  I have been able to get her to set me up with some job shadows so I can have an idea as to where I want to transfer to when my year with them is up.  July 8, cannot come soon enough.

I think that is it for now, I am going to really try to get back here.  I have missed it, and I have missed all of you.

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A few weekends ago, my husband and I went away for the weekend.  It was the first time we have left Mea.  It is also the first time that we had gone anywhere just the two of us, since our honeymoon.

We really needed that trip.  It was good for us.  Mea lived, and although she was super pissed that we left her, she had lots of fun with her big sister, E1, her niece and her nephew, and the following night with her Aunt and cousins.

We didn’t really do anything that we couldn’t have done here, but going out-of-town made us spend time together. It was all good.  We ate junk food and drank in the middle of the day, we went to a movie that was rated R, and last longer than an hour and a half.

We had fun.

When we got home, we picked Mea up, and went home and started our normal Sunday routine.  I got laundry started, went to the grocery store, fed my family lunch and dinner.

I did notice that the majority of the clothes that I had sent for Mea to wear while we were gone was still clean, folded, and hadn’t been worn.  When she was at her sister’s house, she claimed she didn’t have any shirts (she had two in that bag) and when she was at her Aunt’s house she swore that I hadn’t packed her any pants, to which my sister just told her to wear the pants she had worn the day before.

I am a little surprised that the grown-ups didn’t question this a little more, but whatever.  She had at least two full outfits in each bag.  We left Friday night, and came home Sunday morning. I totally over packed her, and it was for no reason.

After dinner, I went to help Mea get ready for her bath.  She was being silly, super squirrelly, and was forcing me to help her get undressed.  I get her pants off, and look at her feet.

She was wearing the same socks that I had helped her put on Friday morning.

They were once white.

They were about ten shades of brown when I peeled them off of her feet.

I posted something on Facebook about it, just being my normal smart ass self, giving my sister and E1 a hard time for not doing a very good job of Mea sitting.

The next morning, my Mom told me that she got the biggest laugh out of Mea not changing her socks.

She said that once she had a seven-year-old daughter, (duh, it was me) who she dropped off for a weekend camping trip for Brownies.  Apparently, this daughter wore the same socks, underwear, and undershirt the entire weekend.  They had gone hiking in the woods, and it had been muddy.  They did stuff around the camp fire.  Apparently, she even walked in only socked feet back and forth to the latrine a few times as well.

As we were talking I could hear the smile in my Mom’s voice, remembering this silly story of her seven-year old daughter being a dirty little piglet during her first camping trip.

I, of course, do not recall doing this.  I do remember camping with Girl Scouts plenty of times, but I don’t remember my filthy socks.

It’s the little stories like this that I soak up and savor so much these days.  I have a hard time thinking about all of the stories that I don’t know, or no longer remember, and how they could someday just be gone because I was too young to remember or notice, and my Mom may not be there to tell the story to me.  How one of my children doing something silly like not changing her socks will remind my Mom of something similar that either I did, or that my sister did at the same exact age. 

I hope to hear more of these.

Actually, I hope to hear all of these.

 

 

PS.  Guys!  I am writing again.  Words come out when I come here!  Thank you for sticking with me.


Rattling Around

Believe it or not, I have come to this place many times in the last several weeks.  I just couldn’t make any words come out when I would sit down.   

I have a little green notebook in my purse where I have been jotting down ideas of things to blog about.

Whether it is some silly Meaism, or a story from my past, or something that has happened recently, those ideas have gone in this little notebook.

The thing is when I get here, and sign in, I kind of freeze, and no matter how many times I look at the pages of notes I have made in the little green notebook, I can’t pull the words together to form even one sentence.

Today, I opened the notebook, and then picked it back up and buried it back into the bottom of my purse.

I miss it here.  I miss you friends out there so much.  I hope you are still there.  I hope you haven’t given up on me.

I won’t lie, this year has been a hard one.  Most likely the hardest in all of my life.  First my Mom getting sick, my old job, new job, Mack moving so very far away, I just haven’t dealt with it all too well.  I am trying, but I am also trying not to get too lost. 

I was just rattling around doing the best at I could at functioning for a while.  The things I loved to do took a back seat while I tried to pull myself back together.  I haven’t read an entire book in more than six months.  I have bought several, started and stopped them.  My cooking and baking has taking a hiatus, which has had a positive effect on all of our waistlines, but still.  My blog and my blog peeps.

The thing is, that this blog is my best therapy.  I have to tell myself that you guys don’t necessarily need a funny, jokey story where I make fun of myself, every single time you come here.  Sadly, sometimes I just need to be me and vent my bad shit out so I can go on.

I think this is where I am.  I need to get some of the bad out, so the good can come back in. 

Even if it’s something short, I will be back daily for a while.  I need to get back in the groove of things. 

Little Green Book

Little Green Book

I may need to start things off by getting rid of this.  It hasn’t done me any favors.  I may go bury it in the backyard when I get home.


The Bag Lady

I first noticed her a little over ten years ago.  She would come into my office, dragging two large heavy plastic reusable grocery bags, from a discount grocery store.  They were packed to the limit. 

Where I worked, it was common for us to serve clients who were quite well off, and also serve clients who could barely rub two nickels together.  I could never quite figure out The Bag Lady’s circumstances.  She looked clean, she looked kept, but she had those bags, and seemingly, nowhere to go.

I saw her everywhere.

On every single side of town. 

She rode the bus, so I did see her frequently while I was at work.  At least several times per week.

Always with those two stuffed bags.

She was older, definitely should have been retired.  Frail enough that watching her carry those bags always concerned me, they looked so heavy.

I often wondered what she had in there.  I would find myself thinking about it at odd times.  If she were homeless, she might have all of her earthly possessions in those bags.  What if someone stole them from her?  What if she lost one?  What if one of them ripped and she started losing things?

She went missing for a while.  I didn’t see her.  This was over winter, so then I really began wondering if she was one of the homeless as so many of them head south for winter.

Then when the weather started warming up I began to see her again. 

Back with her bags.

Only this time they had multiplied. 

The first time I saw her she had four bags.

Then at least six.

Then she was walking around with at least ten or more of these bags filled to the brim, so heavy she could barely carry them herself.  She would walk two to four bags about twenty feet or so, then go back and get more bags, over and over and over again.

I couldn’t imagine how long it was taking her to get to wherever it was that she needed to be while carrying all of those bags.

Then one day, I realized she was gone.  I hadn’t seen her for months. More than a few seasons had passed.

She was gone.

So were her bags.

 

I am still here.  I will be back in this place.  I have been dragging around a bunch of baggage.  My brain has been so heavy it’s been hard to put all of my stuff away, and walk away without any of my bags, but please know this…..

I miss you.  I miss this space and the cheap therapy it gives me.  I miss making people laugh,  I miss reading your stories.   

I don’t know what happened to the bag lady.  I hope that some family member intervened and either got her some mental help that she may have needed, or helped her into an assisted living facility of some sort who could also help her. 

 


Bloggling Twenty-One

In no particular order, I give you the crap in my brain.

  • We have now Skyped with Mack (and her boyfriend, sorta) twice now.
  • This is a great way for Mea and Mack to talk to each other.
  • Mea can be her silly self, and show off for her sister, and for Mack and I to see each other’s faces.
  • We are taking Mea to the drive-in on Saturday.
  • We are keeping it a surprise, but my husband and I are both excited to take her to experience something we both did as kids,
  • My friend whose husband was recently diagnosed with stomach cancer, was given really bad news this week.  According to the doctor’s the cancer laughed at the chemo.
  • He went through twenty weeks of 24/7 chemo, had his stomach removed a few weeks ago,.
  • They gave him two months to a year.
  • So sad.
  • I just don’t understand this sometimes.
  • Why would the doctors put him through that horrible surgery if he was that bad?
  • I am filing this under things I will never understand.
  • For the record, cancer is a mother-fucker.
  • I submitted something I wrote to a writing contest online.
  • I am nervous about it, but I am also glad that I actually put myself up for the challenge.
  • Thanks to Polly, I overcame my fear and submitted something.
  • This may be a first step to doing something more with my writing.
  • Thank you Polly.
  • I had to work on Saturday.
  • We work once every 6 weeks.
  • There is no coffee to be found in our downtown prior to 7 am.
  • I did not know this.
  • A total coffee fail.
  • I got to work at 7, and had to wait until 9:30 to have some caffeine.
  • They didn’t turn the lights on in our office.
  • I think this was by our manager’s choice.
  • No coffee, being at work at 7, and no lights, made for a very sleepy morning.
  • As I was going through caffeine withdrawal, I thought about how Jen completely kicked her coffee habit.
  • I am too weak to give it up.
  • Thank goodness that only happens once every six weeks.
  • My husband told all the big girls that we would take all the grand-kids overnight sometime soon.
  • I seriously think he may have lost his mind.
  • Six kids ages 10 months to ten.
  • Please pray I live through this without killing any of them or him.
  • I may go hide in my bedroom with the baby all night, and let him deal with the big ones.
  • I have been giving serious thought to a tattoo, or rather, two tattoos.
  • Meaning of each of the girl’s names in their handwriting.
  • Mack wrote hers out for me, “Born of Fire.”
  • I still need Mea to do hers, “Mine.”
  • Then I will figure out where to put them, thinking the inside of each wrist, and where I am going to go to do this.
  • When I told my husband that I was thinking of doing this, he thought the big girls would be weird about not being part of it.
  • They are not weird about it at all.
  • I did actually think of doing all of their names.
  • E1 and E2 both have good name meanings.
  • E1 is “Ever Powerful”, and E2 is “Peace.”
  • C is the problem.
  • All the way around, as there are still all the issues, but her name is a problem.
  • C’s name means “Chalk Landing Place.”
  • So, the answer to that is no.
  • That is just not going to happen.
  • I know not everyone checks the meaning of their children’s names before naming them, but I think it is a pretty important part of the process.
  • Their names are part of them, as essential as their eye and hair color.
  • If I would decide later to do something for them, I may do the flowers for their birth months or something along those lines.
  • I also don’t plan on turning into a crazy tattooed lady either.
  • So there is that.

With that, I am done.