Paying Attention and Happy Campers [RANT]

Most of my inadvertently sugar-free pie may be currently waiting for me in my freezer. Even I couldn’t eat most of three pies before they went bad. A friend let me have some pie that he remembered to put sugar in on Sunday, so it was a pie win weekend. Add that to spending the Fourth with some adopt-a-siblings and the whole weekend proved fun. The cousins all played happily and the tiny humans who weren’t mine didn’t want to leave despite the fact that it was way past everybody’s bedtimes and potentially homicidal cats awaited them at home.

The smaller humans didn’t even give watching fireworks over the trees much of a go until around ten. Their arrival did inspire us to wander into our neighbor’s driveway which provided a much better view of the proceedings. Up until that point , we were in my driveway, spinning around in circles every time we heard a promising pop from any direction.

Saturday morning was less satisfying. I volunteer at my local FamilySearch Center so people can come in and look up their ancestors. We have many volunteers but not enough to man the center more often than every Saturday. As they are donating their time, volunteers tend not to be available around major holidays, so we don’t open our doors those weekends.

I was amazed that I woke up by the time I would normally head down for a shift. My tiny bosses woke up early as well, so we were watching “Thundercats” together when a friend called to ask if anyone was supposed to be at the center. Apparently, a volunteer missed that the Fifth of July was listed closed on the schedule that I send out periodically and made an appointment for someone to get help that day. Anyone else feel like people don’t pay attention to information they impart?

This week was the first week of camp for my darlings. Their camp lets them learn to appreciate how musical theater can help them to express themselves. The directors picked a Hawaiian theme this year, so we prepped by watching “Lilo and Stich.” Hopefully, they get to hula like Lilo.

Mom camp has involved trying to make dents in messes throughout the house and keep writing. I owe my substackers some stories, but no one has crossed over to being a paid subscriber and it feels like the only views are me, so I will ease into assigning myself deadlines.

If I can resist my other hobbies, my writing goals might go easier. With my little monkeys eating at camp, I found myself with a bevy of overripe bananas. Now I have almond banana blondies, banana pudding cheesecake, and banana foster cake to rehome to my belly, unsuspecting friends, and my freezer.

Communication and Service [RANT]

Today is a holiday: the first one celebrated in my head this month. Needless to say, I have been thinking of patriotic pie and burgers and small children racing through my yard chasing each other to something exciting. What exactly that is remains to be determined, but we have pie: cherry, dutch apple, and blueberry, oh my!

Of course, the world outside my food-obsessed brain marches onward and multiple people have enlisted my skills this week. The first was a situation of my own making. When my kitchen was out of commission, I attended a White Elephant Gift Brunch with some friends from church. Since I couldn’t just bring brownies, I presented a gift certificate for baked goods. The recipient still hasn’t quite redeemed her gift.

Another couple of friends is leaving us for the west and the same hostess offered up her house for a farewell party. Seeing my friend in the same environment reminded me that I have not yet fulfilled my obligation from December, so I sat down to see what type of baked delight might appeal to her. She responded by asking if I could make lasagna. I can and I have, but it has been a while, since I learned to make it in a giant turkey roaster and the only person in my house who will eat is me. 

Technically lasagna is baked, and, as we talked, my brain reminded me that not everyone is addicted to sugar, so I spent half of yesterday chopping and browning and baking lasagnas, since I figured she wanted a smaller portion of lasagna than a roaster pan. I also decided to use the no cook noodles, which apparently get uncooperative if the top layer isn’t held down by a massive amount of sauce, so now I know that for the future. I hope she appreciates her gift because mine was delicious, but I didn’t put as many noodles in mine, so it wasn’t mysteriously crunchy.

Another young lady at church wanted my help getting started on her family history. The missionaries informed me of this and said they would set something up. Then they asked again and gave me the sinking feeling that perhaps these young men might need to work on their organizational skills, so I started communicating with the young woman, which I should have done in the first place. 

We decided to meet up Monday at six at her apartment. I made her aware that I might be late. She seemed to understand that. I did end up leaving my house around six instead of before six. I saw that coming and gave her a heads up around 5:40. Having not heard anything to the contrary, I drove toward her apartment.

Halfway there, I got a message telling me we needed to reschedule. Another message followed explaining that her landlord didn’t like her to have guests after 6:20. I proceeded to turn around and head home as it was already 6:18. 

So clearly, I need to gather more information before I agree to anything. Communication is important, people.

That is why I must sadly confess to my guests today that I forgot to add sugar to two of the pies I made. Clearly, this was not a good week for me to bake. Nothing turned out quite right. But I tested the pies and the addition of ice cream definitely sweetened them up. What does this tell us about ice cream?

That it’s delicious. Calm down. I scream for ice cream.

Updates and Unique Unicorns [RANT]

Playdates and lack of sleep have thrown off the summer schedule but we are muddling through. Well, I am muddling through. Everyone else seems determined to consciously create chaos wherever we may be. 

My oldest child has a friend who has a pool, so both kids want to go over there every day. My new friend (the mother of my child’s friend) says we are welcome to pop over everyday. I am not sure she realizes what such an invitation brings. I think I have to let people enjoy my uniqueness in doses, so I will not take advantage of her kindness.

Aside from that, even with just two fabulous playdates this week, my house feels neglected. The piles get bigger and not in a good way. For instance, they are not huge piles of money that make me dream of being like Scrooge McDuck and swimming in my money. Instead, I soak my hands in soapy water and try to knock back funny smells by giving my new washer a workout. 

I got behind on my writing goals. Since I posted a poem and then realized I did a horrible job editing it last week, I need to get ahead of this goal and not behind it. I also owe my potential substack readers one more post of actual prose since I am planning to make most of the content there only available to paid subscribers in July.

No, I will not be offended if you subscribe to my substack as my birthday gift. I might be sad if you never read my posts or give me feedback though. Not sure why I am so needy about these things. It is good to know that what you create brings joy in to the world.

Why else would I keep subjecting people to cake, brownies, cookies, muffins, and other treats? It isn’t because I make too much for one. Or because my freezer is overflowing with goodies. Well, maybe a little.

That doesn’t stop me from popping out for an ice cream date with a friend. Sometimes, you need to step away from everything you need to do and relax. Tonight, our waitress seemed surprised that I ordered the Cookie Monster ice cream. She warned me that it was VERY blue and would stain my lips and teeth. I reassured her that I did want it and I do know how to use a toothbrush. She seemed satisfied.

After I had a chance to partake of some of my treat, she came back to check on us. I beamed at her and asked if I looked like a Smurf yet. She responded in the affirmative and wandered off again. The evening culminated with her commenting that no one had ever finished the blue menace before. I wonder what her response would have been if I licked up the dribbles from the side of the glass. I always amaze people when I eat ice cream. Want to know what I mean? You can buy my ice cream and find out…

Clearly, I know how to party like it is summer!!!

Bonding, Balancing, and Brainstorming [RANT]

Another week has come and gone. Summer is truly upon us. Lovers of heat and barbecues and being seasonal mermaids rejoice. Polar bears contemplate diving into the neighbors’ pool, preferably with permission and the payment of an acceptable treat. Small children want to run through sprinklers and mud and track it through the house as a memento for their mama despite the horror evident on her face at this action.

Then the rain rolls in. And it always chooses to do this when we are at Nana’s house. So Nana is sad that no one gets in the pool. And the kids just watch other people play computer games on television. That pretty much sums up the first half of my week. That and eating out and dutifully eating brownies that were purchased from Costco for a party of twenty when only four guests were expected. So if you see me and wonder if you are seeing more of me, signs point to yes.

It doesn’t help that I am an accommodating creature. As a guest in someone’s home, I try to fade into the furniture unless I can be helpful. But if my help just gets me told how I am doing everything, including breathing, incorrectly, I wrap up in my cloak of invisibility and keep quiet watch over my tiny clones while catching up on music I want to peruse and my to be read pile. These are a few artists that spoke to me this week:

Lisa Marie Presley: Yes, that Lisa Marie. Her music is kind of gritty. I want to hug her daughters because I know they miss her.

Wolfgang Van Halen: I was on a kick for the babies of famous singers and actresses. That doesn’t mean their music doesn’t have merit of its own.

Brigitte Calls Me Baby: Their music makes me think of the 80s and I enjoyed the 80s. Though some of the music now traumatizes me as my brain keeps telling me what those lyrics really mean.

The Heavy Heavy: Not sure if they give me nostalgia for the 60s or the 70s, but I dig their music. Plus that one band member looks familiar. Odd.

Red Wanting Blue: Southern rock speaks to me for some reasons. Might figure out why at the end of this post.

J J Heller: She posts light-hearted and worship music that soothes me.

I have returned home, where my obsession’s center around finding balance in not just my own life but hopefully the lives of the three blue-eyed cuties who live with me.  I have small children, so I am trying to keep them on a schedule over the summer, so life doesn’t devolve into the chaos. The first week went well. The second week occurred in someone else’s space, so we were schedule free and stayed up late and ran wild. We are trying to get back into the groove of things, but yesterday was exhausting. Today looks like it wants to follow suit.

I shall find my balance. Or I shall vent about it to myself, since I feel like the only person reading my new substack, but I plan to keep posting there. And those who have enjoyed my rantings and writings for years can feel free to get a paid subscription and say it doubles as my birthday and Christmas present for this year. I still need to decide on a reasonable rate since I am currently only promising four to five pieces a month. We’ll see how feisty my muse gets if I receive some appreciative feedback, shall we?

~~~

Help me brainstorm by offering your input on the following questions. Please!

1. How much would you be willing to pay to read four to five pieces of my writing a month?

2. What creeps you out?

3. What brightens your day?

If you don’t want to share with the rest of my readers, message me somewhere. I have a feeling you got here from Facebook, so say “hello, weirdo” and then answer my questions. Thanks in advance!

~~

And your excuse to eat cake today:

Happy Birthday, West Virginia!

The best went west in 1863!

Here’s to another 162 years of being wild and wonderful! 

Burdens and New Projects [RANT]

As my readers know, I am never short on things to obsess over. Even if it doesn’t happen to be Friday the 13th and I didn’t find a shirt with cats dressed as ghosts to wear in celebration, my life always has a certain bustle to it.

All my mom friends are nodding in understanding right now, particularly those who don’t homeschool their kids. Who doesn’t appreciate teachers more when we find ourselves as the sole providers of entertainment, direction, food, and education all day every day for three months? My daughters benefit from a consistent schedule, so I worked one out in my head. Then I wrote it down on paper. Then I posted it on a dry erase board, so they know what my expectations are? We are on day five of this fun experiment. 

They haven’t fought me as much as I thought they would. I think this is because I give them a whole hour to play outside (if the weather permits) in the morning and then give them ample free time in the afternoon for watching movies and playing. I also outsourced science and social studies to the television because mama needs some time to clean and cook. (No matter how often my husband extols the virtues of our kitchen fairies, the only person I ever see tidying up in there is me and occasionally him putting a dish in the dishwasher with enough enthusiasm to make me feel I should throw a parade.) 

They have, however, started yelling at me if we end or start an activity a minute before or after the posted time. This has made me aware that all of our clocks are on the exact same time. They also get easily off task when daddy pops down for a snack. How dare he be so irresistible?

The Bananarama song “Cruel, Cruel Summer” has been ear worming me this morning. June is determined to make me sad. I was wasting time on Facebook when I should have been sleeping and saw an obituary for a friend of mine. This friend is a decade younger than me and seemed to be getting her life back on track after it got derailed by a divorce. She was reclaiming her life in record time, too, and her resilience is one of the reasons so many loved her. I have seen clickbait posts like this before, so I just closed Facebook and decided to hope for the best until morning.

Morning revealed, that this particular light had indeed gone out. I wasn’t as close to this amazing woman as I would have liked, but her posts tended to bring joy and hope to my life. She was always helping people, bragging about her adorable kids and pups, and sharing her latest ventures. She also shared stories about overcoming a troubled past. Honestly, I hope she knows she is amazing. I hope people don’t forget her stories and that others still find hope in how she overcame addiction.

I know her sister and mother and admire them as well. Along with other her siblings and friends who equate to family, she left three adorable kids behind. I hope they know they will see her again. I hope they know she wishes she would still hold them close and wipe away their tears.

Obviously, I have been trying not to be blubbery and sad this week. I mostly succeeded though I attended a memorial at an ice cream shop the other day and found myself fighting a lump in my throat. Unfortunately, bedtime arrived before the moment of silence, so I didn’t get to participate with others in a moment of silence. That might have been for the best. I would have probably melted myself with tears if I had been able to participate.

Then, this morning, I returned from my walk, which featured a podcast about burdens and how we can carry them better when yoked to someone else, specifically Jesus the Christ, to find out a dear friend had passed. She started out as my boss, but I couldn’t help but think of her as a friend. Her number one rule was “don’t hurt yourself”. She clearly understood the silliness of college students when motivated too carry heavy boxes and huge piles of books around the library.

In more recent years, she has brightened my feed with posts about helping others and her cats. Imagine how much her efforts brightened the lives of others. She supported causes to help assure healthy food for people throughout her community and, of course, the protection of animals. Clearly, she and I are kindred spirits. I just wish we could have shared tomato soup, Chinese food, and French fries a few more times in this life.

Send some positive energy out into the universe for the loved ones of my two friends and make sure you hug your loved ones and appreciate them in the moments we have.

In other news, it looks like this particular page might be more rants than fiction. I’ve moved my fiction to substack, where I intend to start paid subscriptions after I figure out how much would be reasonable to charge for approximately four posts a month. I can’t promise more than that until I shape up and motivate myself better. Think monetary appreciation will do it?

Contemplation [POETRY] + [RANT]

 

Come to me

Let this be

Our moment of sun

Say you’re the one

Whose belief

Offers relief

And catch this

Chaste kiss

Before the fall

That takes all

Before the rise

Phoenix eyes

Feathers aflame

To lay claim

To my name

~~~

So I have been contemplating substack. I have a couple of friends who are already using it to share their work Would that motivate me to follow my own self-appointed deadline of worthwhile content? Would my friends still want to read my ramblings if there was a small fee associated?

If so what would be my focus?

Poetry

Faith

Food

Short stories

I feel like these rants would still reside here . No one wants to miss out on what is on my mind, right? Especially, the other moms who don’t realize how much they did each day until they are lying in bed exhausted and wondering why this hurts and that aches.

This week, I have been procrastinating writing to conquer laundry mountain. My washing machine gave up the spin cycle around Memorial Day and its replacement arrived on Wednesday. Four people plus no washer equals hugs piles of clothes. My new washer is definitely getting a workout this week.

But I have conquered enough that I sat down to update dear readers. Of course, I listened to a talk on charity this morning and decided to mow the front lawn, so my husband has that much less to do. Will he appreciate it? Or take it as his due?

My summer procrastination centers around today being the last day of school for my two lovely clones. I caught up with a few friends over the past couple of weeks because my focus this summer will be trying to keep my babies active and engaged. So wish me luck because it is going to be a fight to convince them we aren’t watching television all summer. No matter how much we want to watch every episode of every 80s cartoon…

Life’s a Party: Part 2 [RANT]

One of the many roles I take on as a mom is party planner. My youngest decided to make her arrival at the beginning of May, so sometimes her birthday falls on Mother’s Day. Not this year, but I already had a commitment on the Saturday closest to her birthday, so I got to plan multiple celebrations.

Technically, her first party was at Nana’s. This preceded me falling down the well of microfilm of obsession and was planned by Nana. My duties for event centered around releasing new friends from packaging as fast as presents could be unwrapped and consolidating Christmas, Easter, and birthday gifts, so we left behind as little as possible. We succeeded to the point that no meltdowns resulted.  I think I was also expected to eat a quarter of a sheet cake in a twenty-four hour period, but I did not accept that challenge.

So the first celebration that required my attention was a treat to be shared with friends. Some parents send in little gift bags, but I am a major slacker and skipped that stress. I decided to send in Tastycake Krimpets. The kids love them. We are close to Philadelphia. Perfect, right?

Nope. As I walked my daughter home from the bus stop, which happens to be on a busy road with cars zipping by and revving their engines as they blow past buses with their stop sign out, she informed me that I didn’t send in enough treats. I strained to hear her explanation until it finally made sense.

I sent in twenty-four cakes for a class of eighteen. They happened to be twin packs, which I have sent in before. It just means the teacher has to separate them and give each child one krimpet not a two pack. But there was a sub. And the sub didn’t do math. And the sub told my daughter to start passing out packages of cakes. Luckily, it sounds like the first graders figured it out and shared, but I still got whined at all the way home. And I am a mama who doesn’t like my child to be upset or disappointed if I can help it. There are enough disappointments in life that I can do nothing about.

Part of the reason I didn’t load all the kids up on sugar is that this was my daughter’s actual birthday. I knew that she would be having cake at home with just the family. We did place a video call so her aunt and nana could watch her open gifts. She seemed excited about all of my carefully selected offerings. Dad got credit. Nana commented on how much stuff we bought her though it was significantly less than the birthday gifts she got at her first event. Then we sang and let her have her tiny cake from Nothing Bundt Cakes that I made look like Hello Kitty. Then, she played with her toys and insisted that all of them needed to join the hoard already overflowing her bed. Happy Baby! Happy Mama! Goal Achieved.

Now, I needed to focus on her actual party with friends not just people who share her genetics. At this point, none of the seventeen kids from her class had responded to the invitations I sent in. Thankfully, I bravely invited some other friends, so I knew at least four other kids could make it. This meant squeezing them into our house, the three usable rooms between me not wanting to tidy the upstairs and the basement still needing remediation from a flood in December.

I spent the next week monitoring the weather and tidying and re-tidying my house because rain and the threat of rain made it impossible to prep or plan for an outdoor party. Saturday ended up being a sunny day, but our backyard was still wet and overgrown, so we squeezed into the house. I dubbed it a success. Confetti cake was enjoyed. Gifts were opened and appreciated Even the adults seemed to have fun.

Of course, my tasks didn’t end there. I needed to tidy again. And someday, I need to find more room for all of the goodies Thing 2 got before Thing 1 has a birthday. 

And why didn’t I post? I got asked to give a talk at church last Sunday, so I got sidetracked by that. (Would you like me to post that for your perusal?)

Then Memorial Day wanted celebrated. I joined friends from church for breakfast in the park. I made some apple cider donuts. Boiling down the cider to make it more concentrated took more time than shaping the donuts.

We also had friends over for dinner, so I decided to make four desserts. I get excited when other people who eat a variety of foods show up. One of the desserts was brownies, so everyone could be happy. I made a yummy blueberry cobbler and save a couple of donut holes for sharing. I also made lemon strawberry pie, which didn’t set well, but I had ice cream because it goes with every dessert I chose, so it became a topping.

I may still be cleaning up from that  event by eating the few stray brownies.

So life is a party and I am the planner.

And it is not a small task.