But Did I Die? [RANT]

Did you notice that I disappeared? For over a month? Maybe? Maybe not?

I haven’t been wholly neglecting you. If you think I have, then you clearly are not one of my four subscribers on substack. I am also lacking in paid subscribers, which means my goal of socking away a little money for those extras my girls want (that I don’t object to) has not got off of the ground. Should I try to sell you baked goods instead? Contact me privately if you are willing to pay me to bake you a cake or cookies or brownies.

In the interest of time, and hopefully writing more fiction than retelling my own life, I shall try to be brief. What have I been up to?

I went to visit my in-laws. They showered my kids with toys. We missed the back to school night where we find out who gets to teach our little darlings this year. By the time we returned home and I found quiet time to call the school, it was barely under the wire of the school day. Too barely. No one answered my call. My girls went to school with only the eldest knowing who her teacher was due to the school social media app. I told the younger one to go to the teacher her sister had two years ago. I was only half joking. I was also entirely correct.

They survived their first week and we had friends over for labor day. Who knew my house would be party central? Makes it easier when I don’t have to transport every random dessert I decide to make that day.

Then my brain began obsessing over my oldest daughter’s birthday. Between making sure she had a treat for her birthday, making sure Nana and her auntie got to see her open gifts, and planning a little get together with a handful of her friends for that weekend, I might have gone a little crazy. She went off to dance auditions with her dad because I needed to attend the back to school night and meet her teachers.

The next morning found me back to obsessing over her party. We scored some little stepping stones. Some are adorable turtles. Others can hook together to become a little balance beam. I figured those could keep the attendees occupied for a bit on the party day. I baked a cake. We acquired waters and chips. I was semi-satisfied with the tiny fairy I made for the top of the cake, since my daughter changed her mind from an pegasus with wings to a Barbie theme. Thank goodness I hoard cool baking stuff.

Then I started conversing with some of the parents. One said her husband had tested positive for COVID that Wednesday. Since her daughter goes to school with mine and mine had what I thought was a cold the previous weekend, I realized I probably didn’t hide us from the rest of the world long enough after her illness. In the interest of not spreading that joy around, I postponed the party for a week. Most people could still come. 

Then I spent another week obsessing and cleaning. And I remade that fickle fairy. She turned out better this time. I might almost be a pro. I also remembered to buy ice cream, as per the birthday princess’s unspoken request. (Mom’s can read minds.)

So this gets longer and longer. The party went well. Everyone seemed to have fun. My daughters both enjoyed my thoughtful ice cream choices. Some of the guests lingered. This happens when they are basically family and your kids have trouble with the idea of stopping their play before total exhaustion makes them collapse. When our guests left. I covered the small amount of deliciousness to avoid attracting other sweet junkies and my body informed me that I had been overdoing it for about a month and needed to go to bed.

I haven’t quite recuperated from all the running, which continues. Moms have more jobs than even they realize. I have posted a couple of pieces on substack to make up for the week I failed that venue as well. Anyway, I have left out some things because otherwise you will be exhausted from reading this. Hope your week is relaxing.

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.

Haunted House Party [FICTION]

“I’m so glad you finally saw reason and agreed to host the first of many haunting parties,” Glenda winked at me as she surveyed the spiderwebs hanging happily from any surface out of my reach and, honestly, most within my reach as well.

“Me, too! This place is too perfectly spooky to waste,” Rae flicked back a stray lock of jet black hair with a red-tipped nail.  

The chandelier flickered as a tentative knock sounded at the door. We exchanged looks and then Glenda and Rae watched me expectantly. I sighed.

“I guess it is my house,” I muttered as I pulled open the door.

The skinny figure on the other side of the door stopped biting her thin lips to flash me a huge smile. I smiled back before turning to look at Glenda who had been nothing but mean to Lacey since they first met. 

She shrugged and mouthed, “Later.”

I narrowed my eyes and shook my head at her as Rae stepped forward to grab Lacey’s hand and pull her into the foyer. Lacey seemed unaware of the manhandling as her eyes wandered over every surface with wonder and admiration.

“It’s almost like we’ve stepped back in time,” she murmured breathlessly.

“Or time stands still here for the ghost,” Glenda grinned at her.

Lacey’s eyes went wide and then sought out mine as she released a breathless whisper, “Ghosts?”

“Don’t worry. They only come for the naughty teenagers,” I looked pointedly at Glenda, who responded with rolled eyes and a rude hand gesture.

Then she turned abruptly and headed toward the kitchen, “I hope you have some spooky snacks to fortify us for ghost hunting tonight.”

I sighed and followed with Lacey and Rae so close at my heels that I may not have imagined their anxious breaths on my neck. As my small troop inspected my snack offerings and found them worthy of digging in, the itinerary for the evening got finalized.

“So when we have full tummies from all these yummy snacks, I vote we watch a scary movie,” Rae grinned over a concoction of pretzels coated in chocolate to look like a spider web.

“And then the ghost stories,” Glenda wiggled her eyebrows suggestively at me, “Or tales about the previous owners.”

“Sounds good,” I refused to let her rope me into this argument again.

She grinned and I crushed a sigh deep down inside my chest and grinned back. Rae and Lacey nibbled at some popcorn as they looked between the two of us, no doubt feeling the tension and waiting for the real show to begin.

Hours later, after getting our adrenaline flowing with not one but two scary movies, we opted to save our spooky tales for the following evening. If my guests hadn’t scared themselves out of making a weekend of it. I grinned at their backs as I followed them up the stairs. Another one of my friends volunteered to make a special treat for the next evening’s repast: a “corpse” made of deli meats and cheeses that looks disgustingly realistic.

We muttered our goodnights as Glenda and I slipped into my room and Rae and Lacey took the room down the hall. The house has six bedrooms, but I only have beds in two of them because that was how the house was furnished when I inherited. I tumbled into the queen bed in my room and Glenda sighed a little as she slips under the covers on the opposite side.

“You really need more beds.”

“No. I don’t.”

“Sleeping with you is weird.”

“You can sleep on the floor.”

“You need more beds.”

Now I sighed as I repeated, “No! I don’t!”

“You do if you are going to have friends over.”

“This is my first sleepover in the five years since this became my house. I think I’m good on beds.”

She sniffed derisively and rolled away from me. I rolled my eyes and mirrored her movements, snuggling into my pillow as sleep overwhelmed me.

I woke with a start, sitting up and taking in the sounds around me. Nothing sounded off. Wondering what roused me, I reached out for Glenda and found an empty space where she had been.

“Glenda? Where are you?” I whispered.

Getting no response, I slipped out of bed and padded to the doorway. The door hung slightly open, so I stepped into the hallway. A faint light filtered through a picture window at the end of the hall, revealing that I alone stood on the worn carpet leading off toward the stairs. I shuffled  resignedly down the hall, half-expecting to find Glenda sleeping on the couch downstairs.

The couch proved empty, but as I turn the corner toward the kitchen, I heard the fridge dispensing water and shuffled faster. As I rounded the doorframe, Glenda looked up at me with her eyes wide and mouth hanging open. That lasted for the two seconds it took to realize I was just me.

“Thirsty, too?” She asked glibly.

“No. Just wanted to make sure the ghosts didn’t get you.”

She rolled her eyes. “I wish they had. I came here for some excitement.”

I snorted. “I told you the house isn’t haunted. It’s just old.”

“We’ll see,” she offered cryptically before draining her glass and setting it in the sink. “Coming?”

“In a minute. Maybe I will have a glass of water.”

“Ta-ta,” she waved her fingers at me and tiptoed out of the room.

After finishing my own midnight libation, I crept back up the stairs. As I stepped onto the second floor landing, a noise turned my attention away from my own doorway which Glenda had left ajar. I turned toward the shuffling sound and peered into the darkness. In the ethereal light of the picture window, it resembled an unruly sack of laundry. As it shuffled forward, I noted that it was about as tall as Glenda and encased in a skin of rough burlap material.

“Glenda, knock it off,” I muttered waving off her theatrics.

“Huh?” Glenda’s voice filtered sleepily out of my room.

I stared at the creature for a moment. Then the door to my room opened wider and Glenda peered out into the hallway. Seeing the creature, she squealed and slammed the door shut. I glanced at the door of the room where Rae and Lacey presumably slept on but didn’t want to risk finding it locked as the creature shuffled toward me. I pondered my options only briefly before stepping back onto the stairs.

Unbelievably, the creature followed me to the stairs. Without eyes, maybe it didn’t see that the floor drops off, but then how did it know where I was? I paused on the bottom step to stare up at it as it slowly shambled to the edge of the top step. It stopped and I let out a relieved sigh. The sound spurred it forward and it shuffled over the top step.

As it tumbled forward, the burlap tore. I started to laugh but it died halfway up my throat as dozens of glowing orbs poured out of the tear. The burlap collapsed to the stairs but those orbs came right for me. I ducked down and noticed a two by four leaning against the wall from my last redneck repair effort. I grabbed it up and stood up, ready to do battle with whatever horror had been unleashed in my home.

As the first orb neared me, I knocked it out of the park—or at least out of the foyer. It bounced off the nearest wall and fell to the ground. I repeated this maneuver with the next couple of round creatures. Then they caught on that I was not an easy target and began floating upward toward the ceiling. When they reached the solid wooden beams, they shimmered and disappeared. The ones I knocked to the floor came to and followed the others. As my eyes followed their trajectory, I saw my friends leaning over the banister with a eyes filled with a mix of wonder and terror.

“Believe in me,” the last floating orb beseeched before floating up to join its friends in passing through the ceiling.

-

Hopefully, this tale satisfies all those Friday the 13th needs to be disturbed. 

Christmas Off the Ward [FICTION]

I look up as the sound of wheels squeaking across the carpet alerts me to an incoming interruption. Moments later, Dale slides into my cubicle, barely stopping before running over my toes.

“Were you coming to see me?” He asks, peering down at my toes with a hint of relief.

“Nope. Just heard the early warning system.”

“Oh. Good. Good.” He nods his head with each word, obviously pondering something else.

“What’s up, Dale?” I ask finally.

“Joel…” he pauses.

“Oh. You called him already this morning?” I ask, turning back toward my computer.

We never look each other in the eyes when we discuss Joel. He has been in the hospital for a week, receiving treatments for cystic fibrosis. He has another week to go and the company Christmas party is tonight. We both know it won’t be nearly as fun without Joel. Last year, he initiated the Noel Limbo contest. The year before, he dumped tiny foam elves into the punch bowl after he realized someone spiked it. It kept the numbers of drunken coworkers down but didn’t deter the more determined revelers. I was looking forward to whatever hijinks we would be getting into this evening and don’t want to be reminded.

“He called me,” Dale says, jerking me from my sad thoughts.

“Oh.” A sad silence stretches between us again, so I add. “How’s he doing?”

“He’s feeling pretty good. Just bummed we are going to have so much fun without him.”

“He knows he brings the fun, right?”

“I told him that. He denied it.”

“So what are we going to do about it?” I ask.

“I was thinking we should go see him before the party.”

“I’ll grab some of those chocolates he likes.”

“I was thinking a little bigger than that.” He grins at me.

“How big?” I can feel my brow furrowing so deep that I must resemble a Klingon.

“A great escape…”

“But he needs to be in the hospital…”

“Okay, we will plan the escape and if he doesn’t think it is a good idea, we will scrap it and just try to smuggle in some cake after visiting hours.”

“How long have you been thinking about this?”

“Since this morning, after he hung up the phone. If you had heard how sad he was…”

“Okay. I’m in.” I jump up from my chair.

“Calm down. We can’t do anything until after work. Just be ready.” He changes the pitch of his voice for the last three words, so he sounds like he has just informed me of an important top secret mission.

“Sir, yes, sir!” I salute and return to entering data.

~~

“I wondered when you two moles would scuttle in.” Joel greets us cheerfully from his hospital bed.

We grin back. Though pale and drawn, he still brings a smile to our faces. He has attired himself in a festive cardigan and pajama pants speckled with tiny candy canes. He motions toward a padded bench on the far side of the room. 

“Have a seat and tell me what the plans for tonight are.”

“Well, how would you feel about hitting the holiday party?”

“I’d love to, guys, but I wouldn’t be much fun…”

“We just need your charm.” Dale steps into the hallway and rolls in an old-fashioned wheelchair. “I found my grandpa’s old wheelchair and we can wheel you wherever we go.”

“And whoever isn’t pushing will be in charge of any gear you need.” My eyes wander around the room, taking in monitors and tubes, and various other items I have no name for.

He pauses, frowning in deep thought before offering us a slow grin. “Where is the holiday party again?”

“The Nature Center.” Dale answers quickly.

“That close, eh?” Joel leans back against his pillow and takes a deep breath.

I step closer to Dale, waiting silently. 

Joel nods his head and reaches for a button on the side of his bed, “Let me just ask the nurse a few questions. When she gets here, could you step out.” His cheeks flush as he makes his request.

“Of course.” I say, wondering what he doesn’t want to discuss in front of us, since he is always willing to educate us about his condition. 

Dale nods his head. A few minutes later we are waiting in the hall. I don’t know what to say and Dale is always most content to stand in silence, so we lean against the wall and watch nurses and doctors hurrying past with more important things to do than notice us.

Quicker than I anticipated, the nurse steps into the hallway, pushing the empty wheelchair. “My patient isn’t going anywhere in this rickety museum piece.” She frowns at us.

“Oh.” I try to hide my disappointment. “I guess we better get going?”

“Not so fast. I am going to loan you one of the hospital wheelchairs, but no monkey business or I will make you volunteer your veins for aspiring phlebotomists to practice on.” She grins in a way that leaves no question that she is serious.

Soon we are on our way to the holiday party. Due to a little sneaky texting by Dale, our coworkers greet Joel with all the aplomb due to the jolly red-suited man himself. He stands briefly to make a dramatic bow then spends an hour being wheeled around and catered to before we sneak him back into the hospital where a new nurse frowns at us as she helps him out of the wheelchair. She puts a stethoscope to his chest and back and then shoos us after she has reassured herself and us that we have not returned him in worse condition than we found him.

“Thanks, guys, can’t wait to see you at work again.” He calls out, adding a slightly breathless “Ho! Ho! Ho!”

The nurse pulls the curtain closed with the harsh sound of metal running along metal. That sound haunts me as we return to catch the tail end of the party. We left the Christmas spirit back in his hospital bed, fighting for his life day after day and somehow enjoying every minute of it.

~~I think I have Cystic Fibrosis on my mind because I recently listened to a podcast about two sisters living with it. . Of course, my quick research to write this piece didn’t make me feel competent to describe all that goes into caring for yourself when your lungs aren’t working with you, but if you want to help, you can always donate and/or educate yourself. 

And now I am really wishing I had the forethought to get this posted for giving Tuesday. I actually remembered to donate a little to the cause on Giving Tuesday, but it is never a bad time to show love and support to those who are struggling, so think about it, will you?~~