That's a Wrap

 

After 5 and a half years....Stephen finished his last final in his last coarse for his degree in electrical engineering and computer something rather... He did this while maintaining a full time job, taking care of 7 kids and as of right now, a couple of houses. It was long, grueling, and tested us several times along the way.

After it is all said and done, he came home with flowers for me and said "thank you for always supporting him...."

and I got him this t-shirt...

(It seemed like a good idea when I ordered it)

Well, we love you Stephen!

That's a wrap.

We're Going to Need a Bigger Boat

We're Going to Need a Bigger Boat

As a parent I think we spend a lot of time wondering if we are doing things right. Or maybe that is just me. As much as it pains me to say it, in recent months, I have become overwhemed. Shit has hit me from every direction. Where I usually keep a cool head, I had found myself full of stress and worry, second guessing every action and sure that missing Winter Extravaganza at the Elemenary school or failing to run the 5 K with  Piper would irriversable fuck them up for life. Maybe it has, or maybe, just maybe, for the first time in my parenting career......I was in over my head....on a sinking ship...if you will. 

Just like everyone else in the world...I have my own amount of pride, but the pressure had become to much. I was anxious and stressed. I wasn't sleeping and my hands and back and joints hurt all the time (a side effect of stress)...I couldn't open jars and holding my guitar frets down was too painful. Then my chest started to hurt on and off and I realized...I needed help. 

I made an appointment with my doc and was medicated with an anti depressant. It has helped amazingly...thank heavens because what came next couldn't have been handled without it.

My son was arrested. Now I  only share this (without detail except to say that it wasn't a violent crime) because it is what has made me reevaluate life completely....it is his story to tell some day, but because everyone knows...and even the youngest of my children have been forced to answer to teachers and peers due to this event, I state that is has become a catalyst for change. 

You know the iconic scene in JAWS when Deputy Brody and Matt Hooper (Sheider and Dryfuss) are out in the water and they finally see the shark...and Brody, with that stunned look of disbelief on his face, realizes the problem shark is much larger than the boat he brought to tackle it.   

All he can say, cigarette in mouth is "We're going to need a bigger boat".... well...that is how I felt to a tee.

IN OVER MY HEAD ....

As a parent of a teenage boy, there are a lot of calls I expect to receive at some point or another.

Mom, I tried drugs.

Mom, I am drunk at this party can you come get me.

Mom, I slept with my girlfriend.

Mom, my girlfriend is pregnant.

Mom, I got caught cheating on a test.

Mom, my girlfriend is actually a boyfriend.

Mom, I wrecked the car.

Mom, I don't want to go to college.

Mom, I am going to travel the country following the Phish tour.

Mom, I think i want to be a professional skate boarder.

all reasonable....what I wasn't prepared for was a call that said...

Mom, I have been arrested....then a detective telling me he was taking my son downtown.

It broke me into silence. I didn't even have the capacity to ask questions.

Here's the funny thing about life.

Good news moves at a snails pace. But bad news, bad news my friends, has wings on the wind.

It wasn't long at all before the phone calls and text messages started. What can you do?

So we have hunkered down. Done all we can for now and are sitting in limbo. You cancel your dates and take up family game night. You ask more questions about school days and best friends. You give haircuts and read more books, hold more hands and offer more "I love yous". What else is there to do when it is completely out of your hands.

This is where I would usually make a joke about how "I fought the law and the law won"....

hell, why not. 

I like to tell my kids daily, especially when they complain, that they are not victims. They are the owners of their destiny. We all choose our paths...sometimes we choose wisely. Just like Indiana Jones we drink from the right cup.

 

other times....well, there is just hell to pay.

But at least my eldest won't have to pay with his soul.

Now all joking aside, it does feel like we are moving through slush right now. Our feet fighting suction and muck to take every little step forward. But plod on we will. A unit, though small. Our little tribe. And though it hurt and we all feel betrayed in our own way, I think we all have started to realize, that it isn't personal. It really isn't about us at all. Every one in the world that ever has been and ever will be is given free will from the moment they are born. Some have it stolen...but here in this house...we make our choices. Right or wrong. Then we pay for them. We are not victims.

We will always need a bigger boat...but we nine, we will row as one. Better or Worse.

that is just what family does. 

Let Me Pepper Your Heart

Let Me Pepper Your Heart

So for the last week or so I had been working quite diligently on a post about the top 10 foods in my home and why...Ranking them for calories, nutrition, quality, taste, and price. This was coming along swimmingly until I became annoyed. Last night I almost completely shut down my blog site all together. I don't want to be a snarky writer. I don't want to pretend I have any fucking clue on how to cook or shop or what to buy. I am not a nutritionist. Quite frankly, I don't actually give two shits about that kind of thing. I have a method, I have recipes, I like to cook....It works, but I don't think anyone really wants to here about a thousand and one uses of a target red card and how grass fed beef is better than grain fed beef when it comes to taste and texture...if you do then check out the food babe as she is both snarky and annoying and as under-qualified as I am to discuss food and so forth and so on.

So instead I am going to talk about what I have been thinking about for a long time now. 

DIVORCE. (don't cringe in horror!!!)

Not mine, geesh (wipes brow)...but in general.

I have more housework daily than just about anyone I know. This is not in any way a brag or whine, but a statement and fact. I clean more hours of the day than is healthy and so even with babies in tow, who think cleaning is a game, I have a lot of time to think. Now 100 percent of the time if a subject is giving me a particular hassle, I will text the hubs. And to his credit, he will follow up with me with within the hour...which really is impressive considering his schedule. 50 percent of the time if I need further advice I will call my father who 90 percent of the time has good feedback that I use about 75 percent of the time. 10 percent of the time his advice is pure rubbish, but I consider this favorable odds. 
I decided to work through this one on my own.

DISCLAIMER>>>

this is my blog and so I get to write about what ever I want how ever I want. But I promise that under no circumstance, will I write about anything other than my thoughts on a subject...I am not a counselor or therapist...I don't like them either.

I have my kids and I have my kids friends and I also even have some friends of my very own. (weird)...this subject has been slammed home for a lot of people in my life recently. It has stirred the pot in my soul a bunch...for so many obvious reasons.

My parents were divorced, I have been divorced...twice!...my grandparents were divorced...my ex's parents were divorced...several times. 

So to say I have a bit of experience on the subject is at least a little fair.
Here is my first go at the fancy and terrifying word DIVORCE.

I grew up the first 12 years, 11 months and 24 days of my life with married parents. My life was ideal and bla bla bla bla bla....fast forward to the meat of this.
It was my brother's birthday and I had just played in a winning softball game. My dad and I had just arrived home and my mother and brother were literally waiting on the front porch to see how I had done...there were no cell phones then.
My dad stated in a matter of fact tone that he wanted a divorce. My mother had no clue.
My mother was and still is one of the most saintly of people. She sees the best in everybody. She turns the other cheek over and over again. It is both beautiful and frustrating. I have never again seen anyone so caught off guard.....

Now before I continue with this story I would like to state that both of my parents are happily remarried and in love...and well matched. There was a happy ending, but that in no way could prevent or undo the tragedy of the circumstance....carry on...

(for those of you too young to know that is Ebert and Roeper ( thanks jared(sigh))and they give the outcome of this story 2 thumbs up)

As a tween soon to be teen this rocked my fucking boat. I remember my mouth drying up. I remember that I still had dust all over the front of my jersey and I was holding a coke can. I remember starting to sweat and then my mind shut down...and I did what half of every animal does when faced with a fight or flight scenario....I RAN.
I ran like I had never before or since ran....I ran through the pain of running in cleats on pavement, into blisters, into numbness....I ran until the disbelief wore off and the tears started to come...and when my dad found me and told me to climb into the car, I thought, and maybe even said.
...
"I hate you".

I didn't mean it in my core, but I meant it in the way that traversed hate into betrayal.
I felt betrayed.
But no 12 year old says ..."you betrayed me"...
Well, maybe some do, but I had never felt hate or betrayal before. What I did know is that it hurt. My guts hurt. My breath hurt and my lungs felt deflated. I panted trying to catch a real breath...trying to form thoughts into words...real words, pleading words...
I wanted to speak the right words to fix it...or travel back in time and undo it...really, what ever it took.
So is the mind of any child living in a happy home and watching everything they ever knew dissolve into a milky unknown....with unpredictability, the fog-covered paths that take them forward into uncertainty.
I also grew. I grew a tough outer shell. I grew a strong personal code. I grew a sharp tongue. 
I cannot speak for the others that were involved in this situation. I have siblings and they all dealt with this in their own way. And I am certain that each and every one of us grieved and mourned and moved forward. That is what kids do. But I was never fooled. I knew that behind smiles and passive aggressive taunts that siblings share, we all carried a very real hole in our tiny hearts that had been peppered too hot. We had all been burned.

As I grew older, I started to let things go and I realized one very important thing.
Divorce is sort of a blameless crime...seriously. What it is is a practice in accountability. 
Kids never ever want to hear that "your mom did this...bla bla bla"...or "if only your dad bla bla bla"...
Strangely, I don't think kids even want to hear "it's not your fault"...at least I never did.
I wanted to hear "I will do everything in my power to make sure this goes as smoothly as possible for you".

Ahh life, I think I block out the next 2 years because they blew. Seriously. They blew hard. And I acted out. I spent a couple rides in a cop car. I broke some shit and snuck out and did all the things that angry misunderstood kids do when they have no idea what to do next. My path was indeed foggy and on steady decline as it were. I made two very large mistakes that could have taken me down all together and escaped by the skin of my teeth. Those 2 things I will never blog about.
But then suddenly I started to realize something quite mature for a 15 year old. At least I think it was quite mature.
I realized that love...maybe it didn't last forever for everyone. I realized that just like me, my mom and dad deserved happiness. Even if it wasn't together. 
I also had the realization that leaving and being left were both equally tough when you wanted what was best for your family. 
Because guilt is carried on the shoulders of every divorced parent. I know, as I speak from experience.

Fast forward into my own series of bad relationships and shitty endings. I have had to hold my tongue many many times when talking to my children about divorce. I would be lying if it hadn't crossed my mind to throw my ex under the bus. To do what I could to justify my own shortcomings by bringing him down...

Pick me! Pick me! Pick me!

also, it is not a coincidence that that is a jackass

I sort of feel like I am sending out that vibe sometimes to my children and I am disappointed in myself and know I am acting this way because I want (selfishly) for them to identify with me more...to have more in common with me.
Lame.
What I am getting at here is divorce sucks big. Sure it is hard on the parents...but whatever, we are grown ass peoples. We usually understand that we have incorrectly married and maybe even mated. God forbid we possibly ever cared or even loved the person that may have left or been left. Tap into that.
No seriously, that is what I have had to do.
At one point I chose that person. On purpose. I loved them. On purpose. I had a child or two with them. On purpose.
I can guess most of you are seeing my pattern.
Every single time I want to lose my shit over an ex. I look at the kids. I did that...ON PURPOSE.

The other thing I realized is that I get just one life. JUST 1.... That sank in hard recently while seeing some of the ones I care about most go through what seems like old hat to me, (though I know it shouldn't).
If you have but one life, do you martyr your happiness if you are sure there is no way ever...and I mean ever to get it back if you stay with your mate...what if you know it is time to move on? Do you stay if you have kids? Can you fall back in love? Can you overcome the urge of loathing you have for your partner...
Yes, I used the word loathing...or boredom, or annoyance.
Seriously, what does it take for a person to leave?
I am not touching on the subject of abuse here. I am not that brave...but in a normal divorce...it is usually just being "done" with your partner.

I have no answers or right and wrongs. I also don't have a God argument. I don't think it matters. What I do know, is as shit hard as it is for the grown ups....the real burden will forever fall hardest on the children. They are not as resilient as people say they are. They do harbor resentment. They will have trouble with trust and question their value. They will remember.
So in closing, there is no point to this blog. It id just something that has been riding along with me in my heart for a couple of weeks now. Peace

Objects in the Rearview Mirror

Objects in the Rear view Mirror

Today I ran by Walmart off Barry Road to grab some chips and stuff for the house. Usually I hit up the market, but for what ever reason I went straight when I was supposed to turn onto the highway. I wasn't paying attention.

As I was leaving the parking lot there was a man by an old van with a dog holding a sign that said "Stranded".

I rolled my eyes and thought, "Aren't we all"... And drove past.... But I looked back at him in the rear view mirror. I felt weird. So I drove to Smoothie King  and got a Hulk smoothie and decided to bring it back for him. 

But everything was taking for ever. Traffic was crazy and I missed all the lights and I was certain that he and the dog would be long gone by the time I got back. Which was cool because I love Smoothie King.

He was still there.

So I parked my car by his van (just as beat up and old as he was) and walked over to him. 

So now I am also standing on the side of the road. I am wearing old jeans and a t shirt and I actually have the thought that people may assume I too am begging for money.

But I say hi and ask him his name. 

He shakes my hand and says it is Brian and his dog's name is Amos. Amos has got to be the oldest dog I have ever seen. He was more grey than black, about the size of a large very very hairy goat, and  was super happy to have someone else to pet him.

I tell Brian that I brought a smoothie and that I saw him but acted like I didn't. 
I said I was sorry...to a complete stranger.
He didn't really mind because he said most everyone was like that. Then he tells me I am number 2 for the day. I have no clue at the time what that means.

About then a lady in a navy minivan drove up and one of her kids in the back seat handed Brian 5 bucks. He smiled and said thank you and gave a thumbs up. So I figured as long as I was out there I should talk to him. 

I learned a lot about Brian.

Last night he and Amos slept in Mound Missouri but were on the road before light. They always sleep in the van. He grew up in Michigan and went to the University up there. He has a masters in Psychiatry and worked at the VA hospital in Macomb County and then at Ann Arbor for over 20 years. He is an Army vet. He worked as a counselor for vets who were transitioning from the military or were discharged for different reasons. It took a toll on his physical and mental health and so he, under the advise of another counselor decided to go back to school in New Mexico.
He went into child studies but realized that he was so messed up from all he had listened to in the 20 plus years that he sought help himself. He dropped out of school with out retirement and without a job. 
He bought a van and eventually had to live in it.
That was over 5 years ago. Amos has been with him since Michigan. I listened in shock.
About that time a black shiny new pick-up pulls up next to my SUV. It has an Army sticker in the window.
A kid (about 20ish) hops out and says 
"Hey Brian. Grab your dog and your gas can. We will get your van to the gas station after that and fill it up. You can stay with me for the next few days....or as long as you need."
Brian looks at me and says "he was number 1".
I make a confused face so he says..."The first person to talk to me today".
So the kid smiles at me and Brian gives me a hug and says for at least the 10th time..."this is a really great smoothie Tammy. I once dated a lady named Tammy".

The Thing We Don't Say Out Loud

The Things we Don't Say Out Loud

When I was younger I was really good at speaking my mind. My grasp of political correctness and empathy had yet to become fully established and so I had opinions and thoughts that flew out of my mouth like word vomit, unsullied by the future consequences. Then I started to understand that I was accountable for every word I said. That others remembered them. That words carried weight and regardless of how they were intended they were open for interpretation by every ear they touched. 

So I shut up.

Obviously not completely, but I started to hold my tongue and think more and speak less. Two ears and one mouth for a reason as the saying goes. Here is the problem. The internal dialect never stops. Ever. And sometimes I really needed to say things, but was afraid to. Afraid of what saying something out loud would do to me. To others. So here are a number of things I want to say but don't. (on a side note, I still put my foot in my mouth a lot)

My kids are average. So are yours. Even if they do something awesome...so do all other humans every now and again. I think being average is ok. I don't think being special is actually a title very many deserve. I think telling your kids they are special creates a deluded sense of self worth. I think it would be better if we told them they could do things to help others feel special. That their value as humans goes up when they improve things for others ....in what ever capacity they are able.
I sometimes struggle sitting on the sidelines as they develop...I want to tell them who to be, how not to screw up, who to aspire to become. I forget that every human has the right to chose who they are.

Also...they can't be whatever they want to be. That is a lie and it sets them up for failure. Let them lose. Let them be disappointed. It creates character. It also creates empathy. a child in the center of the universe is only looking at everyone else...not living with them.

(insert angry thought here if you have one)

I hate pinterest. (oh yeah) it is just cheating. but you know I have an account.

There is true greatness in the world.
and it has zero to do with cars or houses...jobs, money or even personal accomplishments. I have been privy to watching greatness through prayer and faith creating true and real hope in a hopeless situation. I have been privy to witnessing greatness in strangers on a street corner as they gathered together to take a stand for a common goal...everywhere I turn greatness is abundant, even in the darkest shadows. It has never had anything to do with a single person. I think that is the key to greatness....I could be wrong, but I am starting to believe that to become part of something great you must become selfless.

I think many things that are frowned upon are ok in moderation. Including smoking, drinking, and red meat. But not soda. I think it is bad in every way. Really. (snicker) Small notes of pleasure are wonderful. But moderation is super super tough....it does lend a hand to keeping vices at bay for me.

I have body issues. I think most women do. I think we compare ourselves to each other all the time. I know we do. We also judge each other....even when we say we don't. I don't know if this will ever change. I glare at my thighs when I sit down and they squish out. I use anti-cellulite cream and whiten my teeth...sometimes I use padded bras. I have cellulite still and my personal habits keep my teeth from being as white as I want them to be. I am just SOL on the boobs. This will be an ongoing battle.
I skate with an awesome gal who referred to her stretched out stomach (post children) as her skin fanny pack....I love that. She is a better skater than me in every way...faster, stronger...her body works amazingly.
Wrapping my mind around the fact that the function of my body is not linked to its aesthetic is difficult for me...and most. Strangely, the mind and heart have nothing to do with the body and in my personal experience those of sound mind and heart have less body issues. I guess I will keep working on that.

I no longer love Gwyneth Paltrow. this upsets me greatly.

I am terrified of the suburbs...and then I moved there. My kids have neighbors who got on the bus with them this morning. They love it. I will reevaluate this thought in the near future, but for now I will continue to closet smoke my morning cigarette behind a bush so I don't get caught.

Self help books are lame. They teach people how to forget they have common sense. There are very few circumstances where people actually need an entire book to help them do something. For the most part, we all just like for people to give us answers so we don't have to come up with them ourselves. Maybe there is amazing insight in these things...I am sure there are benefits in them that I cannot grasp.  

I believe people are innately good. I know there are examples of this being false, however...as a whole, I believe we are good...somewhere in that core. We Are Good. 
I quit watching and reading the news about 6 months ago. This was the best thing I have ever done for my psyche and state of mind. I am completely disconnected. I have no idea what is going on in the world or politics or anything else. I am okay with that. I have Facebook and Humans of New York to give me trending titles and political insight...bwahahahahah.
But seriously...I was tired of hearing and seeing all of the horror that is portrayed in the media....most of it just smut and glorified hatred caused by a single human or circumstance.
I know it sounds like I am burying my head in the sand but if you are still reading, bear with me.

When one or a few humans do something terrible and we put them on the front page of every Internet news source and on the headline of every talk show...we GIVE THEM POWER. We give badness power. We give hate power. We live more strongly in the presence of fear and we lose hope in humanity. Eff that. We need more rainbows and unicorns. We need more hand holding and long chats with those we care about. I needed to unplug and reconnect. I think a lot of us do so we can see humanity for the beauty it is, not the ugliness we see in few. There is more good (much more good) in people than bad. I believe that whole hearted. Take the power and attention away from the few that destroy us and invest it in the good being done by so many. No...I have no clue how to make this happen, but what if we just all said "enough"...
There are things in the world that cannot be ignored. Atrocities that are beyond reason. But prime time coverage on the bigass new channels are not solving problem or finding solutions. They are fear mongering. And for this they do not deserve us.
There are real life humans with helpful ideas and solutions. There are really smart people out there with innovative and pro-humanity ideas out there. Give them the coverage. 
I know shit happens...but do I really need to hear graphic details of the horrible things some human are capable of on every news channel?..in line at the coffee house? while in the locker room at the gym? Do I enhance my life and those around me for being privy to the crap being broadcast as news?
Garbage in and garbage out. I will now try to reduce my waste.

I have too much shit. While moving I realized that I had accumulated a lot of crap that I didn't need. Like so much stuff. Why? It wasn't contributing to my happiness. I didn't need to for any purpose. I want to simplify, and yet I find it difficult in today's lifestyle. 
So I just started loading up things and dropping them off at Goodwill. Lots of things. I have a long way to go. 

I am on a spiritual journey so I took my kids to church.

And no, this is not a plea to be saved. 
I have struggled with my faith or lack of my whole life. I think that is totally ok...Seriously.
I call it a journey because I am actively seeking spirituality in my life. I always have been. I have floated between every church and religion you can think of. I have taken much away from all of them. I don't believe there is only one way. I tell my kids that. I tell them to seek it out for themselves. To listen. To observe. To question. I think faith makes people stronger. I think it can be honed and developed through out a person's entire life. 
I was raised Catholic but rejected confirmation at 15. I did this for one reason only. I was not comfortable defining my faith at that time. 
Who was I to know what I believed at that age. I think some people do. But I didn't.
Now about that church thing.
Last week for the first time in years I actively brought my children to a non-denominational church. They loved it (except Gogo because he ran out of things to destroy). They went to children's church with kids their same age. It was fun for them. They came home with ideas and new questions about themselves.
I think that was a good thing. I will do it again.
I have a daughter who actively seeks biblical teachings. Man oh man, she can be strong willed. That is good. I have a son who wrote a recent book report on Buddhism. He questions everything and anything. He reads Stephen Hawking. He wonders about creation in the cosmos. That is good.   
When asked where we go when we die. I say I don't know yet, I am still here, but I think it could be some place good. What do you think.
Some believe you should be strong in a faith to teach your children to be strong in that faith. I am not one of those people. We have told all of our children that if they find a church they want to attend, we will take them at least once to see what they think. We will never prohibit their right to faith or religion of choice.
There has been mentioned concern for my immortal soul. To that I say, all thoughts and prayers are welcome. 
But in all seriousness, what I want to rub off on my children is that I am willing to continue to grow. That I want to never become stagnant. That maybe there is not just one truth for all of us.

and finally, I have a bone to pick with parents.
Teach Manners and Respect by having Manners and Respect.

Manners are not out of style....ever. And I am talking about more than please and thank you and yes sir an no sir...ect....
There was a point a couple years back where I ripped my sons phone out of his hands and threw it out the front door. He was terrified and my husband was already calculating the cost before it was recovered. (not my finest moment)
He was on his phone texting while speaking with a human, and I had had enough. I had to get his attention. I did it the wrong way. I said I was sorry. But the problem wasn't just his.

It was mine. 

While at the store, my check out gal was texting instead of greeting me. She was in her 30's. Kids emulate what they see.
WE expect kids to know how to behave, but we aren't showing them. We expect kids to respect us, but we don't respect them. 
And yes, I am being serious. 
You must respect a person to earn their respect...it is  gift given to you. You must help them to grow into a well engaged member of society. You must help them to be gracious and humble....by being that way too.
I struggle a lot with understanding tiny humans. They are weird. They like to do weird things. They aren't quite capable of doing it all on their own and so I have to help them.
But I respect my kids. I respect their growing identity. I respect their desire for independence. They emulate me and my husband. Both good and bad. 
We are working on the cussing issue....all of us.
I hear parents speak hatefully to their children and I am confused. Why do you talk that way? Don't you realize you lose credit in her eyes every time you act like that. She knows that is not how you are supposed to treat people. She has been told that over and over by others...at school, in church, probably by you. She gets in trouble when she talks that way. 
I want to hold myself to the same standards that I hold my kids too. They deserve that.
I want to adjust how I view parenting. I want to earn the right to parent my kids. I want them to be proud of me. I want them to respect me because they have faith and trust in me, not because I am bigger than them and tell them too.
I wish nothing more than for my children to be happy, healthy contributing members of society. I want them to be my friends when they get older.
Now, don't get me wrong. When any of my kids is acting out of line or disrespectful, I let them know so. We all need to be reminded every now and again. WE ALL DO.

So as I get off my soap box and close out my post here, I want to say one more thing.

I want to be a better person. I want to consciously become a better person everyday. I want that to be my life goal. ..
To live up to my potential.

As always, thanks for reading....and my next post will totally be a top 10 if you haven't decided to flush my blog off your feed altogether!

  

I will be 35 in a month....

Well. I have not had time to post for several weeks because of all the awesome changes going on at the farmhouse...

Mainly that we are moving out of it.

So to keep it rolling here is what I thought about when I woke up this morning.

I will be 35 in a month. 6 months ago I took up a sport called roller derby. Last night I rolled in about 1145 in pouring rain and got in bed without showering. This would gross my parents out so much as I used to do this when I was a teenager. 

I am achy everywhere and have a bruise the size of a softball on my hip (no clue how it even happened). I smell like ass and somehow the 2 year old had managed to get in bed with us and had usurped my place in my pillow so I have a kink in my neck. My house is covered in packing boxes.

I just made a cup of coffee out of Keurig (don't judge me... I can still pull a shot) and snuck out the mudroom door to smoke a hot pink cigarette... (Yes they exist) in my t shirt and undies because i live in the middle of no where for a couple more weeks...

So in closing. No, I have not grown up....

Thank goodness

!

Lunch Ladies, Fire Fighters, and Rocky Raccoon

Lunch Ladies, Fire Fighters and Rocky Raccoon

It is not every day that this many life lessons happen to a teenage girl, but on one cold night in the early winter of my sophomore year....the stars lined up and I found myself puking over a toilet in the bathroom of the Runaway Bar (now a sushi joint, or tax office or chiropractor or whatever). My 2 best friends close by, snickering and holding back my hair as I found out exactly how many beers it takes a 120 pound kid to lose every meal she has eaten in the past 10 days!

let's back track.

I had a fantastically respectable job working at a diner called Waid's as a waitress. I was pleasant and quick on the delivery for the most part, so I really didn't dislike the job because I didn't have to put up with too many complaints from the patrons. And when tips were shitty (as they mostly were),...well I was still living at home so it was never too big a deal. The only thing that actually bugged me about the job was the hours. Well, my hours in particular. 

Being of school age, I was limited to shifts in the evening (lame) and weekend shifts. This would be great except that the place opened even before the sun came up which made for very few Friday or Saturday night plans. 

Well somehow I ended up with a Saturday morning off for the first time in about 2 months. This was amazing...and of coarse required the maximum amount of awesome being crammed into Friday night as was possible. Since I was running solo at the time, it also meant that I would be dragging my 2 best friends into my shenanigans along with me (they never really fought it). After some careful consideration, and while pumping gas at the(infamous)45 Hwy Circle K, lightning struck. So, I ran inside grabbed a pack of Reds, "borrowed" a lighter and paid my 10 bucks for gas, then headed home both excited and a bit nervous while formulating my plan. It was going to take some very deft mouthwork on my part to convince the parents...as well as the friends.

So here was the plan. We (my best friends and I) were going to sneak into the Runaway Bar, and.................sing karaoke.

Ok, I get how that could sound lame, but I really really wanted to. And there were only 3 real obstacles standing in my way.

1. I was 16 so I needed an ID.
2. My parents needed to be convinced that I was going somewhere that didn't require me being 21.
3. My friends needed to be convinced that they also wanted to go to some grimy-ass hole-in-the-wall to sing karaoke.

So I started from number 3 and worked my way back. Using my amazing people skills I convinced my 2 very classy, very polished best friends that they needed to get comfortable singing in front of others...you know, like in a stage setting. We were, after all, in choir...And of coarse we all wanted to do our best in all of our performances, eh, eh.  
Now one of them was an easy sell. She was super adventurous in her own right...flying planes, working at Victoria Secret (before the rest of us even knew what a thong was), hell, she even listened to hip hop....like the badass kind (with explicit lyrics). Well she was off work for the night and was in.
My other bestie was a bit tougher to get on the horse, so to speak. She gave us (as there were now 2 thinking this would work) every reason why it was a terrible idea. She rattled off danger points, and horrible outcomes, and all other loads of caution oriented speak....but after a while she gave up, as she too secretly wanted to get up a sing her own rendition of Spice Girls Wannabe  (and she did). 

Then I had to figure out what I was going to tell my parents, as this was going to be a late night and we needed an excuse to be traipsing around past curfew. Strangely, we decided to just ask them if we could go sing karaoke and left out the whole "at a bar" part. To this day I have no clue why they said yes....but they did. Check number 2. 

Number 1 was the hardest part. Back then we had these paper licenses with a very thin plastic cover. A bit of baby oil, Cover Girl pressed powder and a black pen you could almost fake your license ( at least that is what I had heard). So we went to work rubbing the area with the date of birth down with the oil until it sort of soaked through and made it blochy. Then pressed it out with powder and updated our birthdays with more favorable years. Hello 22! 

so many ringer tees^^^^^
this was my actual license...note the wrong middle initial

The funniest part about the whole ID fix up was that I was the only one who clearly needed a fake. I don't know what was going on in the water at my girl friends' homes, but they both looked like weird model centerfolds, with designer duds and tall graceful strides, long flowing locks and heels (and boobs). No seriously, everywhere we went folks assumed they were in their 20's (and hot...like super hot)....I on the other hand was to dumb to realize that rocking my homemade Anarchy ringer tee with my oh-so beautiful second hand cowboy boots with birds painted on them (that I wore in my 7th grade play) was not doing me any favors. One of them threw a sweater on me and the other one pinned up my hair and suddenly I was presentable. (that night actually started a 2 year trend for me wearing thrift store sweaters) 
Honestly, it didn't look half bad.

I could smell victory!
At around 8:30 that night 2 of us loaded up into my maroon Mazda 626 and my pilot adventurer friend took her own car since she had to be home to work her second job at the retirement center in the morning. My excitement was hard to contain, but I was sure we were going to pull it off.   

All of our handy work on our licenses was completely ignored as we just walked right on in. What? No ID check? No flashlight spot check at all? No asking me to recite my birthday? Fine, I'll take it. I didn't need that much adventure anyways. So we found ourselves at a table that only had a little wiggling, and took about 7 coasters to make it level. Sweet! A bar with table stability issues! This was going to be great!
Then the waitress came.

"What can I get you ladies?"
blank stares
"Do you need a minute?"
blank stares
"I'll be right back."....and she walked away looking casually over her shoulder at us as if to say...."you ladies better be 21 and better order soon or I will get my manager....who will make you scrub dishes and take out all the nasty trash before he calls ALL of the cops on you for trying to break the law"......

At least in my head that is what it seemed like her glance was saying.   

We sat there trying to figure out what we should order, (I was leaning towards a coke) when 3 Heinekens were set down on the table in front to us. Cue complete confusion on my part, but both my friends just turned and searched the room until a table of about 5 men nodded at us....all wearing matching white shirts with fire department logos on them...all of them. Matching. So I am more confused and positively sure they are there to bust us for being in the bar....tempting us with under age drinking.

  

(disclaimer) Now...I was not a drinker in high school. It wasn't that I didn't want to ....but the opportunity never really presented itself. I wasn't that cool, so I was never invited to the parties out at the Grass Pad. My parents didn't really drink. So, besides sneaking the occasional shot (2 ever) of vodka from my mom's liquor cabinet (that bottle is probably still there) and the one time my basketball buddy who lived next door and I tried the peach schnapps that his mom had above the stove and sat outside staring at the stars trying our hand at being deep in 8th grade....well that was what I had tucked under my belt.

No one touched the beers. We stared at them and like they were fanged vipers...fanged poisonous multi-colored vipers with glowing eyes. Eventually one of Parkville's finest walked up to our table and asked if we didn't prefer shots...At which point I was totally sure he was going to ask us for our IDs...so I naturally chugged the entire beer, held down the burp and the sudden need to puke and said "beer is great!"
Then to seem extra casual I lit a cigarette.

I guess that worked because he then introduced himself to my very hot friends, ignoring me all together and made small talk and made them giggle...What was I? Chopped liver?..no questions for me? No flirting and asking if I was here for the karaoke? I got us here, damn it! So... I picked up the next beer and shot that one as well, with equal grace and discomfort.
This was about the time the DJ started asking for names and song selections, so I moseyed on over to the table and grabbed a book. 
This is where is got really really weird.

Sitting at the table next to the DJ set up was an entire gaggle of the lunch ladies from our high school...Like at least 4 or 5. They spotted me and waved me over. Coy as can be one of them asked me how I had managed to get myself in and was that another beer in my hand?
Shit, I must have grabbed it when I stood up. The final beer....I set it on their table untouched and said..."nope...It's yours."
Then I smiled...and slowly walked backwards, away from the table of lunch slingers and prayed to every god I knew that they would let it drop. No such luck.

When I got back to my table there were 2 more beers sitting in front of my friends, untouched. This was getting bad. I placed the book, a few sheets of tiny square paper and a couple golf pencils down and started signing us up for songs...I didn't realize there were numbers so I just wrote the songs down with the artist and turned them in. Then sat back down, still ignored, to rummage through the book to find the perfect song.
Eventually people started singing and I felt safe...no lunch ladies had called me out and no fire fighters were hovering at our table staring at my friends lady parts....The beers remained full and all was starting to feel right with the world and my plan was back in action...but I was starting to feel hot...weird. Must be the sweater. I pulled that off and sat unabashedly in my Anarchy t-shirt. As I stood up in between singers to turn in my selection another round of 3 beer showed up at the table...so did one of the lunch ladies. She smiled and pulled up the final chair at our table, so I sat back down again. 
At that moment my first friend was called up to sing her version of Wannabe...she was so chill and walked up to the stage like she was doing us all a favor...she did. It was awesome....While she was doing her thing the lunch lady picked up one of the beers and started to drink it. I didn't stop her. Then I was blackmailed. She said she wouldn't say a word if we started to filter the beers in their general direction. Fine. Great. Drink the beers. Just don't nark on us!
So the night continued with beers showing up at our table and then finding their way to the lunch ladies, who by then had transferred to the table right beside us. They were drinking all kinds of concoctions and had started bumming cigarettes off me. Ok, whatever. Then my pilot friend gets called up to sing. I had signed her up for all kinds of songs...but not "That's the Way Love Goes" by Janet Jackson....not that song.
too sexy.....

Suddenly things were not going as I had planned....How did she know how to dance that way...sweet Lord the lyrics were ridiculous...what was going on...
So I chug another beer...this time with deliberateness and then grab another and start sipping away at that one as well. This is so bad. I have never been so green with envy...the lunch ladies, my other friend, the waitresses...we were all totally and completely jealous of this creature I was sure had possessed my best friend. As she walks away from the mic at the end of the song a silence fills the bar...every eye is on her. She sits and acts like nothing happened then picks up a beer and takes a big swig. Effing priceless. She owned us all. 
As the night deepened the mood of the place became unlike anything I had ever experienced before. Suddenly the lunch ladies were my best friends and my best friends were way more awesome then before. I was still pretty much being ignored by the fire fighters, but that was fine. This is when I realized I had forgotten to turn in my song slip!

I run up and hand the DJ my paper and he says to stay right where I am because I am next...what? I wasn't ready... and suddenly I am terrified. So I light a cigarette and take another drink of a beer that has become a permanent fixture in my hand. 
Ok. Ready. 
And I put the empty bottle down and walk onto the make shift stage.

As the opening chords of Rocky Raccoon come on, I am suddenly feeling a bit sick to my stomach. But I ignore it and give the opening line my all...."Somewhere in the black mountain hill of Dakota there lived a young boy named a-Rocky Raccoon..."
rocky raccoon

All of the sudden fear melted away and I couldn't help but sing, and giggle...and hoe down???? and twirl...and smoke some more...and finger point while acting out a gunfight???? 
Then it ended and I did what any great musician does at the end of their awesomeness and I yelled into the mic "Thank you Kansas City!"....and puked. Cue applause!

So we are back to the toilet in the ladies room at the Runaway Bar...

And just like real friends would, my gals folded me over them and carried me out to my car. One drove me home while one tailed us from behind, lied to my parents and told them I had come down with the flu (my parents never said a word), and stayed up with me through the night rehydrating me with water. 

The next morning I was called into work. 

On Monday the lunch ladies ignored me as usual and a profound sense of unity rippled under the surface of my teenage soul. I had been a part of a magical night...so I grabbed my can of lemonade, gave one of my beer buddies my 50 cents and sat down to be a kid again. 

10 Things that Made Being a Kid Awesome

10 Things that Made Being a Kid Awesome

Being a kid in the 80's and early 90's was pretty much super rad. Somehow time, style, music and everything else sweet was all crammed into this tiny 10 year decade (plus a few). So here's to my childhood (pop) culture and proof that as an 80's kid.....

1. TV Shows.
Not that TV shows aren't cool now. I am sure there are some great ones out there. But when I was a kid, I think I seriously learned most of life's most important lessons from the family TV. So here is the breakdown of shit we all need to know, as taught to me by 80's/90's TV.

He taught me the importance of reading and using my imagination....but you don't have to take my word for it!

He taught me it was cool to be smart!

He taught me to be kind and considerate, to think with my heart as well as my head.

"We live in a world in which we need to share responsibility. It's easy to say, 'It's not my child, not my community, not my world, not my problem.' Then there are those who see the need and respond. I consider those people my heroes."
-Fred Rogers

These 2 taught me about love.

so did these 2.

These kids taught me the importance of friendship.

She made me cool.

she pretty much explained it all.....

so did he...

(and he made basketball seem super rad)

2. Outdoor sports rocked... and we all totally wished we were from California...no surfing or trick bike riding for me, but Gleaming the Cube really lit a spark....thanks Hollywood!

3. Mixed Tapes! Oh the beautiful mixed tape....recorded directly from the radio station 104.3 onto my Casio boom box duel cassette player!!! I made mixed tapes for dancing! Mixed tapes for by best friends. Mixed tapes to listen to when I was chillin' out. Mixed tapes to make my parents listen to in their car.....even the SECRET MIXED TAPE for boy un-named. It was never so personal or so perfect in music then when you made a new mixed tape! The hours of struggle to record it just right, the huge decision about what order the songs should play to create the ultimate listening experience!

check it

4. Wonder Bread. 

No seriously...am I the only one that remembers when our parents fed us Wonder Bread with peanut butter and grape jelly or bologna and cheese paired with a Little Debbie Swiss Cake Roll, and an apple....like pretty much every day for the entire summer? 
and I ate it in this...

 with THESE......

Was this not super awesome to anyone else? I think the organic mom movement would burn me witch hunt style if I did this with my kids in today's freak feeding acceptability plan.....it was so great!!! No carb counting, or sugar over load....why??? Because we were Outside!!!! Which brings me to number 5...

5. Sun up to Sun down. 
Time frame in which we were outside. Everyday. Doing AWESOME things!

like this

and this

and this

that's my old neighborhood^^^^^

and this (go coves)

and this

and everything else we could get away with!

and I did it all on a model of this exact bike

because I was a Huffy Dream Girl! 

(note the cool basket! it had flowers on it)

(I got a mountain bike in 6th grade, but it just wasn't the same)

And the best part is no one was ever worried about us because we traveled in a pack...like wolves...or probably more like stray dogs. It was so great.

6. Michael Jordan....

because he gave us Air Jordans 

this t shirt...(we all had it)

and finally Space Jam (though that came at the tail end).

but we won't mention baseball...unless it is about Bo...

7. Hyper Color and Umbros with Electric Youth and plastic charms

It was so AWESOME! (for about 4 washes)It was like proof you had a close encounter of the first(base) kind! I never ever got to test the theory, but I totally held my hands on my boobs for 10 seconds so that there would be prints left behind and congratulated myself on how awesome I would be if I ever made out with anyone....like so cool....paired with these babies...

because nothing says fashion like baggy shorts made of parachute material...

and I smelled like a dream thanks to Debbie Gibson!

and always had this on...

totally still wish I had kept the necklace.

8. Monthly Winnwood Wednesday School Skating Parties

Man...best weeknight every month. We had 2 whole hours of mingling, couple skates, reverse skate, and so much more. I think it was 3 bucks and that included our skate rental! I looked forward to this night so much! I didn't even mind the blisters and the sore feet the poorly fitting skates inflicted! So much fun!

9. Scary Movies....

the awesome horror films that were released in the 80's and 90's were some of the most gory, most cheesy, most entertaining cinema ever....who came up with these ideas....and them made so so many sequels? (besides Stephen King) As a kid I spent countless hours watching these films, interpreting them, picking them apart and re-enacting them! Some of the best memories ever.

super scary demonic puppets...and leeches...the leeches really stuck with me.

 then there was his hand

his head

this guy's...well, all of this guy

though thank you for introducing me to Johnny Depp

I hate clowns

it's teeth

(though a 70's flick, it was still very very scary)

this guy was terrifying

I have never said his name 5 times...ever

"if you love me...you will let me eat your brain"...

his theme music

(I don't do camps)

And there are so many many more...

10. Concession Stands and Ice Cream Trucks

I know that I am not the only one that would rummage through the house seeking loose change to bring with me to the pool or when I heard the magical tune that the ice cream truck made! For 25 cents you could get a small candy feast in the 80's! tootsie rolls and bubble gum for a nickel (loved green apple)! Suckers and tiny boxes of nerds for a dime, and for a quarter you could get one licorice rope or a standard looking Popsicle in an array of colors! Amazing stuff! If you combined finances with someone you really trusted then you could get a soda or a candy bar...but you really had to trust them because a lot of these treats were not easy to share.

 They were always a bit better with the smell of chlorine in the air and the humidity that made melting fast and sticky!

So here's to you childhood! You rocked!(pop-rocked that is)!

Thanks for taking the flashback with me! I may never be young again, but I will always be a kid at heart!