The Right to Be Heard [RANT]

As a child, I used to throw tantrums. Not little ones either. I would scream, cry, kick, and make a ruckus. And let me tell you, tiny little legs can be a massive destructive power against the walls of a trailer. But that was the only way I could make people hear me. Blood pouring from my mouth, knees, or feet generally caused minimum interest. Asking for help fell on deaf ears. It feels like I am back there now.

When you calmly try to tell people that everything isn’t okay, they nod hopefully and offer advice. They mean well, but you can tell that they aren’t seeing the problem because you aren’t screaming it at the top of your lungs. If there isn’t blood, how could you be hurting? And, of course, if anyone else is involved in the issue, we have to give them consideration and time to be better. But what about the one who has been trying to be better all along? And is now being told to dig in some more and it might take a while?

The only conclusion I can reach is that the problem does indeed rest with me. How many times will I be told I am not worthy of respect and that I asked to be hurt because I bothered to wake up and breath? Do you really think it is helpful to cast blame on the person who is seeking to make it better?

I guess my option is to dig in and wait. Hopefully, while doing that I can protect others from letting part of themselves languish in limbo because someone else doesn’t want them to shine…

In the meantime, at least I have tiny koalas to remind me that I am important. They don’t shun me for trespasses that don’t exist enough to be voiced. They don’t turn their back on me because I express complicated human emotions. And they aren’t teenagers yet, so they still believe I know a couple of things.

Do you?

Mama’s Wild Ride Continues [RANT]

So I left off before the joy of Halloween night. Mama werewolf walked Red from “Descendants” and Vampirina from house to house. Despite the chill in the air, I returned home all warm and cozy thanks to my hat, my gloves, and my lovely cloak. My brother felt I needed the hat and gloves. I guess he knows me after all.

People were generous with their donations to this sweet night. In fact, I kept informing them I did not need anything. I was just carrying buckets for the girls’ overflow. Maybe next year, I will be less of a helicopter mom and watch them from the street as they knock on doors. Maybe next year, I won’t see my oldest charging into people like an adorable wrecking ball that loves candy. My children may never finish all the beloved candy they scored. Hmm. Anyone interested in buying some Trick-or-Treat brownies?

The rest of the week has been a jumble of appointments and stress. Being a mom and a wife is not for the faint of heart. When one can’t sleep, the whole world takes on a whole new light. I think I am living the mombie life to the best of my ability. But others tend not to agree. Hoping for a little more sleep and a little less exhaustion this upcoming week.

Despite that, I keep getting up and doing as much as I can as fast and as well as I can. Someday, I hope to whittle down that old “to do” list. As any mom will tell you, that is easier said than done. Some tasks renew themselves daily: dishes and cooking, for instance. Others are at least on a weekly repopulation schedule such as laundry and trash. And then there are all the line items that seem to jump from everyone else’s list to mine because I clearly have so much free time. Does anyone else have kids who constantly try to outsource their homework to you?

Due to my car refusing to start, my new friend pointed out that I needed to make a trip to the DMV. I find it ironic that they tell us not to get on our phones while we sit in line waiting indefinitely for all the cars in front of us to roll through for inspection. Good thing I scored some physical books to read. Even better, my car passed inspection.

Anyway, nothing too exciting to report. Hopefully, next week proves as dull. In the meantime, I am serious about selling some brownies. 9X13 pan, filled with chunks of Halloween candy that I shouldn’t eat and definitely shouldn’t feed to the tiny humans I have to chase if they make it to the ceiling. Any takers? $25 seems to be about the median price (with a discount) for local delivery>

I also have been trying to cure myself of my hoarding. Some lucky locals have scored some of my old stuff. But I have some crafts that need to be appreciated and my kids might like it if I score a little extra money to pay for summer camps and other extracurriculars, so if you have a need for handmade journals or random jewelry, we should talk.

Until next time, remember that you are awesome and anyone who tells you otherwise needs to reevaluate their life choices.

The Answer Might Scare You [RANT]

It’s been a week. Internal struggles abound. External struggles always seem to join up when that happens. Throw in some cute kids and it’s a wild ride. 

Had some communication lapses on Saturday and thought my girls were going to disown me and request a new model. We were supposed to get together with one of their friends but lunchtime passed and we neither saw nor heard from them, so I double checked and we hadn’t committed to anything. It turned out it was a difference in perceptions of lunchtime combined with a project taking longer than anticipated. Three happy kids and three entertained adults resulted.

Sunday brought more child adorableness. In my church, we have a program where the children sing and share thoughts about God at least once a year. This Sunday was the happy day. Quick highlights:

Tiny humans signing while singing some of the songs.

Nervous human babies looking like they need snuggles because stage fright is real and receiving those snuggles.

My daughter perking up when she realized mama was watching her.

The two girls taller than me towering over the tiny four year olds.

My friends’ son lip-syncing with the most amusing expressions on his face.

My daughter, right behind him, using her Scooby jacket as a puppet.

Almost shaking loose a suppressed giggle over this impromptu vaudeville show.

Songs in tiny voices.

The rest of the week has been spent in contemplating life, the universe, and everything. I may have shared some of my aggravations with more people than I should have. One of my friends sent me books to help me process. Not sure the books all apply to the situation at hand. But what do I know, I only think about my problems to the exclusion of sleep and fight battles for longer than most people would bother. Sometimes, it works out. Sometimes, it clearly isn’t going to.

However, I have confirmation that some of my thought processes are definitely not flawed. Now, we just see if the right people hear what I have to say and choose to be in this with me, right?

Life isn’t meant to be lived alone. Why else would we be born into families? And if your family falls short, choose more family. Pick and choose sisters and brothers from your friends. And if you need extra supervision and guidance, choose more family. Though my biological mother has passed, I currently have five moms listed in my phone. And I pull people into my family conglomeration from time to time because we need each other. I want to thank those who are willing to deal with being part of my family. I apologize if I overstep. We’ll just have to work on our communication. Just be patient with me.

Anyway, I doubled down on adorable today by attending a parade at my children’s school. Kids in each grade level dressed as storybook characters, idioms, or famous people. I saw so many Amelia Earharts and Taylor Swifts, flying pigs and raining cats and dogs, and Waldos everywhere. I also saw so many other adorable creatures and people. 

I started snapping pictures of every kid I knew. With the sun shining on me and people milling about, I figured I might get a good photo for a friend even if some of my pictures only included a wing of one child or a hint of skirt of the other. Hopefully, my offerings bring happiness.

And now to accomplish other tasks before walking my tiny clones around to claim candy and bring joy. Hopefully, substack gets a new post today, too. I have been working on it, but it doesn’t quite feel ready for public consumption yet.

Disintegration Point? [RANT]

The week started out well. Mama translation: I didn’t have to mop up the bathroom at church. I followed a friend to the class she teaches since I have a key to the door. My intention was to rush back to a different class another friend was teaching. The first friend gently placed her hand on my arm to lean in and whisper an invitation to stay.

I hesitated. I’ll be honest. I am certain I talk too much in church classes. Sometimes, my overzealous gratitude for knowing I am more than just a white trash girl from the sticks makes me want to say something to let other people know they are deeply loved as well. But I don’t think people who are new to our faith need to hear my deep and often hard-to-follow thoughts. Anyway, I took a glance at the class attendees that had arrived promptly and stood at attention. Three tall military (does former military exist if someone stands in a way that makes you want to salute them?) veterans stood looking down at us expectantly. What else could I do? I added my estrogen to hers and joined the class.

And I talked, probably too much. I bragged about being asked to turn off my barcode scanner when I worked in the library. That got a chorus of voices declaring me a librarian. Instinct kicked in because all I ever heard at the library was how you couldn’t be a librarian if you didn’t have an MLS, even if us lowly library technical assistants did most of the work since we didn’t need to pad our files for conference time. Anyway, despite my objections, at least two people declared that I am a librarian, so I have accomplished that childhood goal. Now to become a paid writer?

You can make that come true if you are feeling magnanimous and like reading my writing. I just need to lure my muse back and finish up a couple of pieces I have in the works. Someone noticed that I haven’t posted yet this week. Right? And that I still owe one to my lovely receptacle of my muse’s offerings.

One of my daughter’s best friends invited her to a small birthday dinner on Monday. Her sister was also generously invited. My friend picked them up and took them to the party, so their parents could have a few hours off. The girls had fun. I did not. Suffice it to say, an event happened that scared off my kinder muse and I am not sure I want to write the darker stuff the remaining inspiration left in its wake.

So I better stop typing about my average week and wish you all well. Halloween is coming. I have costumes to commit to and tasks to accomplish—mostly laundry—average week.

Scary Things Are Brewing [RANT]

While I hung out in the FamilySearch Center on Saturday, the rest of the troops got to work on Halloween decorations. Thus I got to see one of my tiny humans apparently hefting a body on my doorbell cam. Still giggling.

Of course, on my way to the center, I almost became a corpse myself. Two separate individuals thought switching lanes abruptly in near bumper to bumper traffic would be prudent. Pretty sure neither got to their destination quicker. Thankfully, my reflexes and lack of faith in the sanity of other drivers kept me from deserting my faithful readers and “to do” pile.

Sunday brought the expected level of peace as it started with church. Aside from one child flooding the bathroom, bringing out my inner janitor, I enjoyed time with my church family. Then we went to hang out with some friends.

Despite getting reassurance from our host that his oven was functional, it poured out an amazing amount of smoke during the preheat cycle. Then I was left to my own devices without having to claim the kitchen. Of course, this means I felt like a burglar as I opened most cabinets and drawers in search of pans, utensils, and other cooking needs. If only it were that easy to be left alone at my house. My youngest has taken to rolling toys under my feet when I am dancing around between the stove, counter, pantry, and fridge. So if I suddenly stop posting, you might want to check the hospital and sneak me in some food. 

Anyway, we all survived and I didn’t burn down anyone’s house. I did make an adorable four year old happy by cutting a horse silhouette into his pumpkin. I also brought the same kind of joy to a seven year old by not cutting out the face for her jack-o-lantern. 

This week continued at a steady pace until yesterday. My kids get a lot of days off, so I get to entertain them for four days straight. I might be more excited about this than they are. This might be because one refuses to do her homework, so mama isn’t turning on the television and letting them rot their brains. They also keep complaining that they hurt themselves by tripping over the obstacle course they created and then whining more when I offer the tried and true solution of, “Clean up your stuff.”

Even if my kids don’t love me, random strangers do. I have had two individuals on different platforms start chatting with me out of the blue. Because I didn’t immediately tell them to play in traffic without a car, both seem to have reached the conclusion that I don’t store a brain in my head. One invited me to have coffee with them if I ever travel across the country for the inconvenience of a “wrong number”. The other seems to be trying to sweet talk me in French. Yes, I will type to you in French, albeit slowly since I haven’t kept my skills up, and, yes, I will catch the nuance of the French version of, “Your profile picture is so beautiful that I just had to talk to you.” I have heard this before. I am not impressed. Ugh. Anyone know how to negate the aura of “looking to be scammed” that seems to linger around me?

Anyway, I need to work on writing some fiction pieces, so enjoy this little snippet of sleep-inducing wildness. Type at you soon.

Did You See It? [RANT]

I posted a much longer story this week? Are you one of the two people who saw the opening paragraphs? Still no paid subscribers, so only I got the full story. I guess you know what to buy yourself for Christmas and it can count as a gift to me and my little humans. Hint. Hint.

I also spent a solid nine and a half hours watching General Conference. With the passing of President Russell M. Nelson, some speakers were more somber than normal, but they still doled out some good advice. And a couple of them even made me giggle. That may be more on me than the speakers, however. 

I went to the dentist for the fourth time in four weeks. I am thinking I might want to take my observations on oral hygiene to a standup venue instead of making the hygienist giggle as she tries to extract bits of pop tart from my child’s teeth. I promise I told her to brush after breakfast. I also assure you that I don’t think her heart was in brushing the ones she wants to keep. Now I want to brush again…

But first, I remind you that Halloween is coming. It feels like it has snuck up on me fast. Luckily, I have a collection of costumes, so I can just decide on the fly what to be, but not everyone shares my neurosis and costume hoarding skills. 

Yesterday, I ventured to the eye doctor. Unlike last year, they didn’t outright call me old, so that was a win. I did get my eyes dilated, which added a level of excitement to the day. I am not sure if it was the drops for numbing or the dilation drops but something strongly disagreed with my eyes. I did get up on my personal stand-up stage and crack some jokes about looking like I was high, however. If you know me, you know I have resisted many attempts to get me to actually enter that state. I am perfectly disturbingly weird without help. Thank you very much.

Hope you have fun plans for the weekend. Maybe a haunted house? Man, I need to find people who appreciate people trying to scare bodily fluids out of them to wander darkened halls with me. My family is too sweet to be scared. Daw!

Are We Caught Up Yet? [RANT]

Did I get you all caught up last week? I certainly didn’t get myself caught up. I posted one of three posts I am anticipating for substack before tomorrow. That means, I should be simultaneously updating this site and that one. Even I am not that good. Clones anyone?

My girls made a new friend this weekend. A friend’s son has been a little shy at church, so I suggested he make some friends at church. He suggested we get out kids together. Now my oldest might want to adopt the little fellow. I got told I sound like someone’s grandma in my twenties, so I am prepared for this.

I also tried to get through some of the tasks leftover from last week. Unfortunately, I got into a screaming match with one of my children earlier this week. I do not recommend this as my body sided with her and a disc slipped out of place in my back. Thus I have been slowly working my way through the laundry, dishes, and a million other mom responsibilities while trying to keep sounds of distress trapped behind clenched teeth. Should my family life really feel like a jungle where any sign of weakness will have them leaping on me?

Speaking of wildlife, my baby koala hasn’t been able to lavish affection on me the way that she likes. Her preferred method is to hug me and then wrap her legs around my legs and hang on. Generally, I love this, so I am hoping my back feels better soon, so I can go back to being mama koala.

Since I don’t have anything deeply exciting to share aside from my need to tidy up and prep some activities to keep the tiny humans happy while I listen to General Conference (more on that hopefully arriving on substack later), I shall let you return to your regularly scheduled activities. Keep catching up. We’ll conquer the “to do” list and relax…

Eventually...

Right?