I read in a book that the spirit of a person who has died suddenly or painfully will remain in the area that they died. It's as if there was such a tremendous energy released from the event that it remains attached to the location of the incident. So, the spirit stays, not knowing it is stuck, unaware that the body has moved on. As a Christian I know there are spirits. Even the bible refers to ghosts and spirits in several different ways.
It seems the choices we make often return to us like ghosts of lost souls haunting us with their memories. People who have lived to make choices, good or bad, at times remain stuck, haunted by a particular incident in their mind long after the body has moved on.
Beginning early on in my life I entered into an on and off again passionate love affair with rebellion. For many years I got away with the affair having suffered little or no consequences, but I did not elude them long. I now realize there were many offspring that came of that long standing tryst. One love child in particular ended in a failed marriage with two beautiful children. Two children I left with their father to raise.
I was barely 19 when I had Joshua, and just at 21 when Erienne came along. Life with their father was hard, disappointing, and at times, down right ugly. I knew nothing about Jesus except that He was some perfect guy who was boring to hear about and I had better things to do than sit on a hard pew for 2 hours and listen about how evil I was. I was a hard headed girl, determined to have my way and do whatever pleased me and me alone. Mmm, rebellion was a fine looking man who had me at hello. (And I am speaking about rebellion being fine, not the ex.)
Quite a few years later I was the stereo-typical unhappy young mother. I had a head full of ideas, a heart full of longing and wild oats that needed some sowing. The decision to leave the children with their father wasn't made in one definitive instance. Rather it was made over several years filled with good intentions. I intended to leave them just until I got on my feet. I intended to have just a little fun before it was back to motherhood. I intended to get them back the next month and the next because I certainly had no intention of leaving them with him. Those many months of unfulfilled intentions added up to the guilt that is the essence of my most familiar ghost.
When Erienne left on Sunday I was in the backyard, left alone with my ghosts. She returned to give me some pictures and found me crying. The same tears of regret that I've shed a thousand times over so much so you would think there would be none left. Regret that she and I do not know one another. Regret that I missed out on so much because I thought I would miss out on so much.
But I was crying tears of hope as well. Hope that as the years pass we will come to have a friendship. That she would forgive me, that I would forgive me and that somehow the Lord would restore those years that the locust had eaten. In my head I know that I am forgiven, if not by them or by myself, then at least by Christ. His grace is abundant, of this I am aware.
But that doesn't stop the ghosts that stay rooted in my memory, haunting me, reminding me of the choices I once made. The spirit unaware that the body has moved on.
The Haunting
A Good Title For Telling You About My Long Weekend.
I cannot begin to tell you what an absolutely awesome weekend it was. But I will try!
First, let me back up to Wednesday evening. After work Jesse and I went over to the home one of the most dearest and sweetest ladies I know. She has had a faucet leak for a while and asked J to fix it for her. The reason I say she is sweet and dear is because Miss Fanny Pegg is a young lady in her 80's who is still working her little 98 pound butt off every stinking day. Folks, there are 20 year olds who won't get a job and this woman is still at it every day.
While hubby fixed her sink, I had the pleasure of spending time talking with Miss Fanny. I asked her so many questions I am sure she couldn't wait until Jesse was done. But she answered with enthusiasm and even got in a few questions herself. We looked at pictures and she told me stories and made me laugh. I would love to share everything with you today, but I will save bits and pieces for later posts. I must say I was honored to be able to sit and talk with her. What a woman of faith! And for a tiny elderly woman, she embodies absolute strength.
Miss Fanny has been a member of our church for over 60 years and before she retired a couple of years ago, she taught Sunday school to little kids for 50 years. People just don't commit to anything like that anymore. We certainly don't commit to a church for that long much less to a job or to marriage. Hear me, if the Lord moves you, then move, I'm no angel, life gets ugly and I'm in a second marriage myself. All I'm saying is, what an example of faithfulness.
Once Jesse was finished we took her back to the church so she could have dinner with friends and then off to bible study. I hope at 80-something I am still as active as that. Um, let me rephrase that. I hope at 80-something I am as active as that!
It was a little late to cook so we took the kids to Prince's Hamburgers. We had such a blast sitting there listening to the oldies, singing, dancing (in our booth) and acting silly. Yes, at 14 and 12 they weren't too embarrassed to act like fools with mom and dad. What great kids I have! The onion rings and milkshakes weren't half bad either!
Thursday was a blur. I had to get everything done that day that I normally do in two days because I was off on Friday! WOO HOO!!! I loves me a three day weekend!!!
Friday hubs and I had what we call date day. See, I am a morning dove and he is a night owl. For the most part this works for us just fine. I get up way early in the am and read, write, paint or whatever I want while he gets in a few more Z's. Then around 8 or 8:30 at night I am very much ready for bed while he is still wide awake. This is when he gets to catch up on the news, sports highlights of every game he missed and watch all those westerns I don't care for.
So you see, this doesn't work for us when we try to have a date night. Besides, everyone else is out at night and I hate crowds. So date day it is. Besides, they last a lot longer! We always start out by putting the kids on the bus and heading out for breakfast. This time we had breakfast at Spanish Flower. Such a great place to eat. But don't get the norm here or you will be disappointed - norm being on the lunch or dinner menu and being fajitas or nachos. Do get the specials, that is where this restaurant shows off. For breakfast I love their poached eggs over gorditas with a great chili sauce and fresh avocado. Mmm, bellies full we headed out for some serious shopping.
I am not a girl who likes to shop, I have my reasons but will leave it at I just don't. But this time I was very excited to hit the stores because we were out to buy a bed. How boring you say right? Not for me. Honey I've been sleeping on an inch thin mattress that was on the floor for about 5 or 6 years now. Between two kids, a new home, moving mom to Houston and moving eMiLy out, life has just not allowed me to buy a bed.
Okay, maybe not an inch thin. But it sure felt like it all those nights. My son Eddie said I'm worse than the Princess in the Princess and the Pea. Hey, I do have royal blood flowing through my veins so that's not too far fetched Master Edward.
I can't wait to take a picture of it to show it to y'all. It's so dang pretty. And fat. The mattress is absolutely fat. Got's to be 2 feet thick. The Pea Princess is happy. I even got some beautiful new sheets out of it. Sigh. I think I'll go lay on it for a minute I'll be right back...
Ahhhh. That was lovely.
Speaking of lovely, my beautiful daughter Erienne was in town to visit. She is on leave for a week or so before she returns back to her post. Then at the end of November she will be deployed to Kuwait. Now, I've said several deployment dates and locations before, but this time it's pretty much set. I think. While in Kuwait she will transport "things" to Iraq and back. Pretty easy right? Um, she is a chemical and biological weapons specialist. Dang.
This has been more like a diary or journal entry than a post but I just had to share. I hope I didn't bore any of you terribly much. I enjoyed telling you about it that is for sure. I mean I spent the weekend with my family we had beautiful weather and we did nothing special, but I have to tell you what an absolutely awesome weekend it was!
Morning Drive The Next Day
and the day after that, and the day after that, and so on and so on...
I don't know what it is about being behind the wheel of a vehicle that makes my husband transmogrify (I like that word!) into someone I don't know or love. As I said in Morning Drive, we work together which brings us to carpool together - which I love. Mostly.
My husband, for those who have not had the pleasure, is a kind, generous, and loving family man. He would not hurt anyone (Making you mow the lawn does not count, kids).
That is until you put him behind the wheel of a vehicle and send him on his way to...wherever.
Oh, or in front of a tv playing sports. Any sports. Pee Wee Bowling in Uzbekistan will rile him up and send him into emotional fits resembling PMS where he alternates between yelling at the refs/umps/officials/team/announcers/stadium vendors/mascot/small children on the screen and then long moments of complete and utter silence. Yes, he's even cried a time or two. The children and I are not quite sure whether to huddle in the closet with a shotgun, not that we own one, or call for an intervention.
And in actuality it's not the oft heard of road rage. It's more like, gosh, how do I explain it....You know the song Jesus Take the Wheel? I would say, it's more like Satan Has the Wheel.
Satan has the wheel,
He took it from J's hands.
Cause no one can drive right you know.
I'm praying Lord,
Don't let me pee my pants,
Move people from this road we're on.
Satan has the wheel.
O, take it, take it from him.
Mmmm, maybe that is a little harsh. But One of Satan's Lesser Minions Has the Wheel just doesn't flow the same.
I've tried to convince him it's not his road and that he shouldn't take personal offense to others actually driving on it or God forbid, driving on it in front of him. Gasp! May the Lord have mercy on their souls. And just who is the fool who drives 37 mph in the 35 mph zone anyway? What is wrong with him?!?! Does he NOT know he could go at least 40 and get away with it? Sigh, folks, this is the burden that is mine daily to bear.
I have even played music, you know it is supposed to soothe the savage beast. But apparently satan does not like morning radio. I've tried coffee, breakfast and the occasional scream or two thinking since he is satan, he might like that sort of thing. I have found he does like jokes and flirting. Lots of flirting. But it only diverts him momentarily until some brave soul decides to change lanes so they can turn left of all things, do they not know the wrath they incur by doing so?
But alas, each day I arrive safe, in need of a strong sedative, but safe. The face of satan begins to fall off and soon the sweet man I love so dearly smiles back at me as we walk in the door. I begin to relax, glad for the return of my beloved. If only until the next day.
Sing it Carrie!
Just nothing...
Today was the first day that actually resembled fall here in Houston; a city famous for both oppressive heat and humidity. After a long and weary summer of living up to this reputation, the arrival of crisp northern air will be revitalizing to my soul. The coolness of the breeze and the rustle of fallen leaves speak to me of the shedding of lifeless things.
It's becoming harder and harder to wake up in the morning. I find myself clinging to the world that lays just between dreams and reality. The mist of slumber's warmth reluctantly gives way to encroaching consciousness. The denial comes due in part to the darkness of the late hour. My body refusing to acknowledge the truth of the clock's red glare. A change of the clocks with the change of the season will be restorative as well.
Sleep, however, comes to me quite readily. My body is tired and ready for repose even if my mind is still busy stirring together the ingredients of the day. I have always been one to rehash the conversations, happenings and observations of the past. Holding them on the palate of my mind, relishing the flavors and textures of each moment as if it were the finest of fare. Taking note of the excess or lack of seasoning here and there and thinking perhaps I should next time leave it simmer rather than boil. I drift off to sleep my heart full and my hunger for life temporarily sated this side of heaven.
I'm sitting here listening to the sounds of my children, resisting as all children do, the rules of bedtime. While I long for bed early in the evening, they would stay up all night if we would only allow them. I can almost hear the tv as my husband changes channels hoping for a worthwhile show to watch. I know that whatever he finds, it will end up watching him fall asleep. The dogs have settled in and the clock behind me is ticking faster than my typed words will come. The sounds of home are beckoning me to join in the music.
Monday ¿Mande?
¿Mande? (mon - as in Monarch- day) is Spanish for "say what?" or "come again?".
My sweet daughter is going to kill me for this one...oh well.
Saturday evening after a huge barbecue with my work, my daughter and I were in my room. I groaned and commented on how full I was. She asked if I felt like I was going to explode. I told her the way I felt, I probably would. She said to give her warning because she didn't want to be in the room when the testicles went flying.
Me either baby. Me either.
Devilish Laughter Follow Up
Yep, I'm still alive. None of the recipes have killed me and neither have the kids. I've made quite a few recipes from the book as well as made up some of my own. I've learned a few do's and some don'ts and figured I would share.
First of all, to get started, you need to know that it will take some time. It took me 2 to 2 1/2 hours yesterday. This included steaming and pureeing butternut squash, spinach, carrots, bell peppers, sweet potatoes, beets, broccoli and cauliflower. However, I believe after you get the hang of it and you are only restocking it will take no time at all. If you are really serious about it that is. If not, and you only plan on making a few things here or there, I would suggest pureeing as you go.
Second, a food processor works way better than a blender. Your veggies will be smoother, it will take a lot less time and work.
Third, if your kids are small, start now. My kids are older and know how and what I cook. They are also aware of the cook book so they have become wary of everything I put in front of them.
Fourth, since my kids are bigger I started (where I could) with slightly less vegetable puree than the recipe called for. I wanted to see what would work and what had no chance.
For instance, this morning I made the sweet potato pancakes. My son LOVES pancakes and would eat them at every meal if he could. I knew he would be my toughest critic on this one. He was asleep while I cooked but the smell of breakfast soon stirred him. Boy was he drooling once he realized he was getting his beloved pancakes. I held my breath with every bite he took fearing at any minute he was going to notice.
But he didn't notice a thing. That is until my daughter told him as soon as he was done. Then he gagged and protested and whined. I thanked the traitor and put up the remaining pancakes. The true test would come later on. Anytime I make pancakes for breakfast, Eddie almost always has the remaining for lunch.
Around lunchtime I was busy with something and Benedict Elena (who is apparently a double spy) yelled out to me "he's eating the last pancake for lunch!" I smiled to myself. I had won. I asked him later on, "so you really liked the pancakes then?" He said, and I am not kidding "yes, they were awesome (said aaaaawwwwsome) and I want you to make them like that every time."
I picked my jaw up off the floor and J and I potatoed (like high five or knuckling just as geeky and annoying to teenagers).
Of course I've made several other meals. Soup with tons of pureed vegetables, every bite eaten when there used to be enough leftovers to feed us all. Spaghetti, tacos and hamburgers. Delicious every one of them.
But I knew the desserts would be the deciding vote on whether or not this would really work.
Drum roll please......
drdrdrdrdrdrdrdrdrrdrdrdrdrdrdrrdrdrd (drum roll sound)
Ladies and gentlemen, the brownies are....
pretty good! I do prefer a chewy brownie over a cake like brownie. BUT, they were very moist (sorry Courtney) they were very tasty and they did not taste one bit like spinach or carrots. And most importantly my kids (and husband) loved them. So, there you have it.
I am quite happy I bought the book. The mission for me was to get my kids eat greens and reds other than m & m's or gummy worms. Mission accomplished.
Devilish Laughter
My new cookbook came last night and I am so stinking excited I have to share it with you. Why so excited about a cookbook? I will tell you ladies, and gents if you cook, because this is going to be fun. The cookbook is titled Deceptively Delicious and it's written by Jessica Seinfeld. Yes, Jerry's wife.
If you've not yet heard about it (she has been on every major morning show and Oprah) the idea is to get your kids to eat vegetables in a simple, delicious and deceptive manner. Food and deception? I am THERE!
Just a few of the recipes are:
- Coffee cake made with butternut squash
- Chicken nuggest made with sweet potato or spinach breading
- Macaroni and cheese made with butternut squash or cauliflower
- Pink pankcakes made with beets
- Brownies made with spinach and carrots
No my finickies, not ew, yum. Yes, YUM! I've seen the video evidence of a group of 1st & 2nd graders eating, no, devouring the chicken nuggets and mac n cheese and even the brownies. And once they were told, it mattered not, they gourged on.
While impatiently awaiting the arrival of my DD cookbook, I've tried a few tricks myself.
My kids, none the wiser, and loving it - every bite. I made chili with tons of spinach and zucchini - Eddie didn't puke once! In fact, he groaned with pleasure while devouring his whole bowl. Then I made mannicotti also with spinach and zucchini and this time red bellpeppers. While they loved the sauce and the pasta, they didn't like the cheese. Oh my hungries, the cheese had no vegetables in it...they were all in the sauce. Mwa ha ha haaaa!!!
Hiding veggies not new you say? True, moms have done this throughout the ages. In fact I've done it countless times myself and with success. I am just excited to have a whole cookbook based on that deception. Not only that, but a very cute cookbook too. And with so many great recipes and ideas. I am so going to enjoy the next few weeks.
I would love to know if anyone of you have bought this yourself and what you think. I am going to make meatball soup tonight....I'm looking forward to the brownies too!
And...
Here's the Deceptively Delicious website if you'd like to check it out for yourself.
Monday ¿Mande?
Mande (mon - like the word on- day) is Spanish for "say what?" or "come again?".
or as I often say, "What the que?"
This morning I had the, eh hem, privilege of hearing a particular Mr. Joel Osteen confound me and confuse the word of God in an interview with local NBC news reporter Lauren Freeman.
If you are not familiar with who Mr. Osteen is, I shall call you blessed and tell you. He is the "pastor" of Lakewood, a church that is considered a mega-church here in Houston.
His second book "How to Become a Better You" goes on sale today, with a record setting 2.5 million pre-published.
The title alone would serve me fine as the Monday ¿Mande?, however I do have something else in mind.
During his interview with Lauren, clips were shown of him preaching sermons, reason being this is how he describes what his new book is about, his sermons, Lauren said "fleshed out" if you will. Ha, how apropos. During one of the clips he says:
"Really, mercy is loyalty in action."
¿Mande? You are in church and we are talking about God...tell me, just who is it that God is loyal to Mr. Osteen? Biblically speaking, mercy is not getting what you deserve.
As you can tell I am not a fan of Mr. Osteen (I am sure his multi-million dollar ministry is just crushed by that). I really struggle with so much of what he says and could post several pages worth about it. And I am sorry if I coming across mean here, however he really disturbs me to no end.
As my friend Sharon said, if you are looking for a self-help or motivational book this one will do great. However what he writes and what he 'preaches' are both marketed and packaged as "Christianity" and "Christian Living". And neither Mr. Osteen's books nor his sermons hold true to the Word of God, the true Gospel message.
And yet, he has such a large following from every corner around the world. Sad.
You can watch the entire interview here.
If you are a fan, I am open to discussing this with you. Email me at emailmoya@gmail.com.
Morning Drive
My beloved hubby and I work together. We are out the door and on our way usually around 7 am. After the mad rush of getting everyone ready and off to school, grabbing last minute items and locking up the dogs we enjoy the nice quiet ride to work. Okay, well I just lied. Oh we are quiet, but no one enjoys it much. Jesse is ever pressed to make it to work 1 second faster than the next guy and I am ever pressed not to wet my pants or have a stroke. The ride home is much nicer...
This morning this beautiful love song was stuck in my head. Go ahead take a listen yourself...
Gah!!! Help me get this out of my head!!! Quick! Turn on the radio. Gnarles is singing in a voice that belies his size...
Does that make me crazy? Does that make me craaaaazy?
NOOOOOO...change the station NOW...
Stevie Wonder (whew, much better) is asking me to tell him if I really love him...yes Stevie I heart you and I heart you for jammin' with me when I am half dead.
You call my name, OOOH so sweet
I take out my make-up and try to apply some life to the face in the mirror, Jesse is in the left lane, no the right, le,r he slams on the brakes and honks. Meanwhile I'm pulling the fibers from my mascara brush out of my cornea.
I finish up my picasso and put away the make-up, the lady next to me is tapping her steering wheel. I reach over and change the channel and there's Michael Jackson when he was still cool, you know when he was like 10 years old and asking his baby to give him one more chance...
I start doing the Jackson Five moves in my seat...the lady next to me smiles in admiration or fear one of the two.
This morning we had to stop at the ATM, it is Friday. Did you know that the voice of Capital One's ATM Machines is British? If your's is not I would complain. She is so proper telling us to "Please wait while I process your transaction." All Princess like. Sigh, I wish I had an accent...
Jen in New Jersey is saying you do Dana, you do. Not that she's heard me, but she knows I'm from Texas...And everyone knows that people from Texas have a Southern drawl and ride around on their horses wearing their boots and hats...NOT. (Thanks for my Krimpets Jen!! They are on the menu for dessert!) But I mean a cool accent. Like my co-worker from Australia. LOVE to hear him talk. I think if he said "would you like fries with that" it would be so very interesting. Then there's my co-worker Georgevka. She sounds like Natasha Fatale so I always tell her to say Moose and Squirrel or Boris Dahlink!
Oh sorry...I ran a little off course there. Where was I? Oh yes, the ATM. I figure this is a good time to grab a sip of my coffee, Her Highness says "Thank you for using Capital One". I giggle and J takes off shifting gears not so smooth like...my coffee - not a drop spilled - goes back into the cup holder before I wear it.
We pull into the parking lot alive and with only one injury to speak of. We get out, gather our belongings and the love of my life turns to me and says
Mi llamo Mike, mi llamo Mike la da da da da!!
Daily Reminders
Things I must remember to do every day:
- Breathe
- Pray
- Listen
- Love
- Laugh
- Breathe
A reminder to breathe? To you it may sound silly, but I often forget to do these things, especially the breathe part. Throughout the day I will find that I have been holding my breath, I do this so often that I feel I must need a reminder, even several reminders. You would think all of these normal little acts of living would just come to me, but they don't. There have even been moments in my life that I have purposely ignored each one of these requirements.
But mostly I forget. I get wrapped up in the attempt to carry on to the next stop. Get things done and move on. For me most days are a struggle to stay afloat. Some days I'm drifting on a nice raft, kicked back and sipping my tea. Other days I am overboard fighting the on-coming current while doggy paddling for my life.
Yesterday or today for example.
We got a phone call from the school yesterday to come and get Eddie...he was having a crisis and unable to cope. Sounds childsh unless you understand the way an Autistic will try to cope when he is overwhelmed, like banging their head against a wall real hard, repeatedly. Which is what Eddie had been doing. When we got to the school he was so turned inward it took him a while to realize we were there. We talked calmly with the school psychiatrist for a few minutes, all the while in my head I'm screaming. Eddie began to cry, a good sign.
I know that part of this is due to the fact that he decided 4 days ago that he was no longer going to take his medicine and short of netting him, sitting on him and using a long straw to blow it into the back of his throat like some wild animal, I've tried everything. Yesterday he started taking it again. There are just some things we need to learn by falling right down on our rears. Those are the hardest lessons.
This is where and when I have to remind myself, breathe, love, listen, pray, breathe, laugh, hope, breathe, listen, trust...
This is where I have to remind him to do the same.
Why are you in despair, O my soul?
And why have you become disturbed within me?
Hope in God, for I shall again praise Him
For the help of His presence.
Psalm 42:5
The Most Amazing Thing EVER! I mean it...
Not really. I just wanted to lure you pretties into my web so I could bore you to death with the details of my week and save you for later...
ew.
Around 12 pm on Sunday, September 30th, did anyone else in the world feel the earth tilt not so gently to the left and then even less gently to the right? Because I did, and then I felt the wall when I hit it because it jumped right out in front of me as I tried to walk down the hall without looking like I was failing a sobriety test.
The next 3 days were spent begging God to stop shaking the snow globe or stop the merry-go-round or whatever He was doing to the world because I was gonna throw up. Every once in a while I would make an attempt to stand up on my two legs of jello (see them jiggle. sorry.) and try to do something, anything, because I could not stand the horrid crap they were serving up on the telly and my head hurt too bad to even think about reading or thinking for that matter.
I had to go back to work. It was just that bad.
I feel better now, thanks.
And sometime while I was deliriously fevered and unawares there was an invasion from another planet... The aliens came and took my sweet little 14 year-old respectful and obedient son and replaced him with some horrid demon possessed smart-mouth from their planet. I do not appreciate it and expect my real child's return very, very soon. Without harm. And recently fed.
Sigh. I was so very naive and foolish to believe that this part of teenage-dom would somehow pass me by, because I had a good relationship with my child and he always said I was a cool mom. Go ahead, laugh, I'll wait. Are you through? Okay, okay stop.
We still have a good relationship. I let him live and he only makes me suffer from one apoplectic fit a day. It was a big compromise I know, but it works.
I think I need to join a support group. Or maybe I could start one. I could call it PoTs, (Parent's of Teenagers). Or Crack PoTs - no explanation needed. And we could hold daily meetings and have sponsors who would make sure none of us end up in jail for attempted murder.
The next morning (after the switch) the pod boy walked in to the kitchen and tried to fool me into thinking my real son was back. He snuggled up to me and hugged me and said "I love you mom!" But I was not fooled, not this time, oh no. I was wise to his ways...and sure enough, when I got home from work, I caught him with his mask off. Boy was his head spinning and his 8 eyes were glowing and the forked tongue, *shudder* it was hideous.
Perhaps we need to have a priest come over and perform an exorcism...I think it will take a priest because I laid hands on him and yelled Jesus real loud and nothing happened. Of course my hands were around his neck and I wasn't calling on Jesus to heal him. Forgive me Lord.
O heed my words mommy's and daddy's of little ones. Heed. My. Words. Hug them. Hug them hard. And hold on to every snotty sticky whiny minute you have. Because one day you are going to wake up and find your sweet one is sweet no more.
Unless they want something.
Wait...earthquakes...wars...demons...angels of light and Nancy is cooking? Dude, I'm headed to Costco to buy up all the water diet coke and tuna Hawaiian barbecue chips I can find....it is the apocalypse!
Lucy splains.
Some of you may not know what the heck I've been talking about for the last couple of posts. I've been blabbering and giving you really vague references to something in my life being rearranged and packed into empty cardboard boxes. I figured I should explain just a little further. Otherwise someone may think I'm getting a divorce. Don't need that rumor started especially since I'm pregnant.
eMiLy - my mother-in-law - has lived with my us for 3 years. She left one day about 2 months ago to stay with her daughter overnight so we could exterminate and she never returned. Her decision, our decision, doesn't matter. It is whats best for all involved. She was not the easiest woman to live with and frankly, neither am I. Well, I am the Queen and I tried, I really really tried to make room for the Queen Mother as well, but really? Who wants to share her throne and castle?
Sometimes I could laugh about our battles. Most times I would cry my self to sleep. My husband, my kids and I all made sacrifices daily trying to make the best of a very strained and stressful situation. I will not go into the details. I won't attempt to win you to my side (besides, you're already on my side otherwise you wouldn't be here right?). Trust me, it would be easy to regurgitate the whole situation for you. A quick easy purge and blech, you'd understand. But it would be ugly and serve no purpose. Besides, I want to save all the details for the trash novel I'm writing.
We changed the lock on the door so she couldn't come and go as she pleased. It was a little unnerving to come home and find she had been there. She might find a dirty dish or see we hadn't made the beds...oops, sorry, it slipped out. Then we brought home boxes and let them sit there for a week or so. I have to tell you that whole week I was so afraid she would come back and see we hadn't packed her up yet and decide she would just move back in. I even had nightmares about it, that's how much the thought of it panicked me.
Yesterday we filled those boxes up with her things. They are stacked waiting for the next step. Who knows when that will be, but I feel better about it all now. I didn't even want to say anything until it was done...I was too afraid I would have to eat my words. Even with a little salsa it doesn't sound appealing.
So what are we doing with the extra space? Dude, we are so not building a nursery, I was just kidding about being pregnant. What? Surely you knew that...right? The only baby going in there is a big screen tv or something really selfish like that. It will go nice with the disco ball and the sound system. Okay, we don't have any of those either. But when the room is empty, girl, we are going to boogie oogie oogie til we just can't boogie no more.
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