Bear It Well [RANT]

This post got out of hand. I may want to post more than once a week if life is gonna be like this. You may want to read in doses:

Yesterday’s scripture study reminded me of the value of bearing each others’ burdens. I was struck by how, in relationships that last, helping and supporting has to go in both directions. No one likes to be the one scrubbing and cleaning while the other supervises and/or plays. (Not referencing Martha and Mary here, but it does sound similar. One was cleaning and serving while the other actively learned from the leader among men. Both are noble tasks. We just need balance.)

I probably shouldn’t write about my feelings this week since it has been a busy one. Maybe you should opt out of this post now, so I will start at Thursday and let you know a story is live on Substack.

Now to rewind the film and review. We started with a long weekend, three days for the hubby and four for the babies. (None for me. Mama doesn’t get a day off.) Most of you have probably picked up that I don’t enjoy being the only person cleaning while everyone else plays or continuously blocks my progress. But we were having friends over Monday and I try not to scare away my friend with my filth.

So I woke up last Friday with a sore throat brought on by my new friends, allergies and sinus drainage. I still wonder if I wouldn’t basically come down with a man cold every time they hit had I grown up with allergies and adapted to their place in my life. I muddled through and cleaned some things, continuing my ongoing efforts to tidy my house one toy, one piece of junk mail, and one mystery item at a time. My husband swooped in and boxed up some items I had left in hopes the kids would help. He informed the kids he threw them away. No one enjoyed the resultant screams and complaints.

By Monday we felt capable of hosting our guests so the kids could play but I wasn’t up to the full day of excitement. Thankfully, one of my friends suggested we skip the dinner portion. (I still sent them home with brownies and have some left. Guess who isn’t eating healthy today or tomorrow?) Another guest pointed out that our house was hotter than outside. It only reached 80 degrees, so I hadn’t clued into our AC needing a checkup. 

I just adapt if the temperature falls between 50 and 80 degrees. (I am the lady in sandals, shirts, and a t-shirt when others have pulled out their down-lined parka.) My body was trained to adapt to that wide array of temperatures at a young age. All the fans in my house growing up pointed at my mother to keep her from melting and the trailer wasn’t well-insulated. In fact, my mom insisted on rolling down the windows of the car in the middle of winter because she was hot. Wisdom dictates that I am not in charge of the temperature for the happiness of people who are zero to fifty percent polar bear.

The following day, a tall young man came to help resolve our temperature issues. I think confirming with my husband that we wanted the repair took longer than the rest of the visit, which included replacing the faulty part. I appreciated this efficiency as I had other things on my mind…

Wednesday was a perfect day for cake and celebration. That date requires such pageantry since I officially became a mom. My little pooch enthusiast even started her day off right by petting a neighbor’s dog. She may have gotten some stuffed puppies of her own since allergies preclude a real puppy or kitty taking over our hearts and home.  I think baby sis almost exploded from excitement while waiting to present her gift. Overall, satisfaction and happiness stemmed from the givers and receivers.

Thursday found more confusion on the bus route. Because we live off of a busy, fairly straight road, I can see the three stops before ours as I wait for the return of my cuties. The bus barely stopped at the first one, zipped past the second one though the mom tried to flag him down though the child was nowhere in sight, grabbed the girl at the stop before us, and then he stopped for us. The sub informed me that the stop I referred to didn’t exist and drove off. So someone got to experience car line.


The afternoon was even more traumatic for another child and their parents. We had been informed of a bus change. Then another change was announced. The app said the kids were still on the first substitute bus. I decided to live by the adage “don’t trust the app” and hurried to the bus stop. The bus stopped at the stop below us, where it released the child it forgot to pick up earlier in the day, but the other student who got off at that stop didn’t have a visible parent, so she got thirty to forty more minutes on the bus. I feel like they should let us list people we trust to guard our kid in case we get caught in traffic or such, but no one at the bus depot has approved that idea when I put it forth in the past.

Retrospectively, the dad may not have been able to get down the street with his car and had a younger child with him. About an hour before I raced for the bus stop, a loud hissing sound from outside made me think my neighbors were having their house power washed. I was later informed that emergency vehicles had the road behind mine blocked off, so it may have been a water main break or a gas leak.

Thankfully, the substitute bus driver didn’t question me claiming all the kids from my stop since work delays kept my neighbors from reaching the stop before the bus. Another neighbor let my children pet their dog, so it was a puppy love win again.

The rest of the day and night was spent working on my prize of the week: the story I mentioned before. Have you read it yet? Offer me moral support.

Yesterday was a little less frazzled aside from letting one child’s stuffies take a ride on the amusement park rides we know as the washer and dryer. I may be testing a hypothesis about weather one can wash them repeatedly without having to play Doc McStuffins. I should inform you that fluffy friends purchased at the dollar store don’t take this kind of treatment well. Thankfully, I keep needles and thread close at hand. 

Now I must leave you, but I must tell one last little story about how my life is going right now. I drove down to the church today. As I neared the building, I noticed that the larger parking lot was completely blocked by a huge tree. I promptly parked in the smaller lot, jumped out of my car, and wandered over to take a picture. I proceeded to send said picture to people I hoped could handle this situation with wisdom and alacrity. I then went to check on the neighbor to see if they had input on the subject of the tree.

I believe our accents, hers adorable and probably from some lovely European country and mine from the south of this multi-faceted country, were working against us. At one point, she assured me she didn’t pushed the tree over. It was a large tree. She is a sweet, tiny lady older than myself. That thought never crossed my mind. By the time I left the church, a tree crew had arrived to help assure plenty of parking for tomorrow morning. I have done my due diligence. We shall see what this following week brings.

Spoiler: a party is happening and cake is being baked.

Opting Out [RANT]

Lately, people have been opting out of my Substack posts. I didn’t sign on for so much poetry either but bear with me. My muse is prepping some stories for October. If I can work my way through some of my other piles of “want to do” items, I might even post a story before this month ends. If you are keeping tabs, it didn’t happen this week.

Technically, this was the clones’ first full week of school, but they have today and Monday off to assure that lack of consistency I am coming to expect. This may be my way of gently letting you down. A story may not be forthcoming next week either.

My number one fan has already tried to stay home with me a couple of times. Watching me shuffle through piles of this and that in the hopes of making our house weigh less isn’t most people’s idea of a good time yet she seems drawn in.

Maybe I should start a podcast where people can watch me grumble to myself as I try to clean and tidy the disasters that accumulate over and over again in my house. Who wouldn’t want to watch that? I can see some of my commentary that will keep them coming back:

“Has that really been there all summer?”

“How did I miss this corner?”

“Why is she hoarding this?”

“For someone who keeps complaining about the mess, why did he leave this here?”

“That’s what that smell was?”

“We might actually have a pet in here…”

“Oh my, she is a hoarder like me…”

Yep. We do terrible things to our children just by giving them our genetics. At least I gave them giant heads to hold their brains, right?

Maybe you’d opt out of watching me dig through what is probably just piles of garbage. If I were car line compliant, I might opt out of the school bus route. The bus has yet to arrive at the time that we were told it would arrive, either morning or afternoon.

Honestly, it hasn’t been either consistently late nor early. The app which is supposed to make it easier to know where the bus is hasn’t proved helpful. One minute it says the bus is on the opposite side of the road, parked at an intersection and sixty seconds later, it is approaching. Mind you, looking up doesn’t always mean I will then see the bus.

Other times, the bus sits just within view of our stop idling for unknown reasons. I try not to pry but it sounds like a confused child a couple of stops before ours neither wants to go to school nor return from school, so everyone waits.

Yesterday, I was treated to an extra half in the sun while the bus finished its previous route. They had the decency to call after I had already left my house, since the bus was ten minutes early the previous day. On that occasion, I raced to try to catch the bus only to see it zip by and turn around to head back to the school. I think the confused child forgot to get on the bus that day. Is it wrong to think that people who have that much trouble getting their child to acclimate to the bus and respect that it is not a private conveyance might want to give carline compliance the old college try?

I just want my kids to arrive at a consistent time, so I know they have time for breakfast at school and when I will get them off of the bus, so I am not running down the road even though I left my house before the bus should have left the school…

Is that too much?

Does mama need to much?