Time is relative July 1, 2019

This last weekend I helped a mom host a baby shower for her daughter.  She had never thrown one before, so I obliged, having thrown a few, and attended more than a few.

Keep in mind, I will give extra gifts to the expecting mom if she leaves me off the party list.  I genuinely do not enjoy these types of parties.  Give me a few friends, a quiet place and good food and that’s what I call a party.  I truly am not offended by not being invented if of course it wasn’t out of malice, in which case, you’re just going to get boring gifts – so there.

But I get her stress at trying to figure out the scheduling and invitations, and all that goes into one so I said of course.

Here is where things get more interesting…

Ok, the family is Mexican.  As in, straight up from Mexico.  And if you’ve spent even one event with a family of Mexican’s you already know, they’re going to be late.  And not like, 15 minutes late.  No, they’re going to be 1-2 hours late.  Usually two.  So when I was helping her get out the invites, I suggested giving them a two hour difference on their invitations, and she whole heartedly agreed specifically because we only had the room for two hours.

However, in all the chaos of the baby arriving very early, she forgot this step.

The baby shower turned into a “Welcome Baby” party, and the absolutely adorable 5 lb baby girl was adored by all!  Of course, mom arrived an hour late and new mom arrived an hour and a half late.  And all the guests arrived 15 minutes after that.  Leaving us with 15 minutes to swoon over yummy baby scent.  Thank you to the venue allowing us the room even after our time, since there were no more parties booked after us – that was awesome!

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I have a friend from Nigeria who is notorious for being 30 minutes late every where she goes.  During her cancer treatment, our bible study took turns taking her to her appointments.  Which in turn, also had the added benefit of getting her there on time.  “I’m on African time” she’d say in her thick musical accent.

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When we have parties with some friends out this way who are from various places south of the border, and a few of us North American’s, they will accordingly invite us all at different times.  We’ve had a good laugh over this –

White folks show up 15 minutes early.

Asians show up exactly on the dot.

Black folks show up about 30 minutes late.

Latinos show up 1-3 hours late.

Plan accordingly.

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For the first year we knew them we never met their family because we always left for church on Saturday night before their families even made it!  But once we got the schedules figured out, and we switched churches, those were the most amazing parties!

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The same was definitely true for the baby shower.  Once the waiting was over, for those of us who showed up 15 minutes early… or somewhere in between, meeting all their friends, trying out new foods, getting to hear their stories of how they know each other and them teaching about what their culture does with new babies, it was an excellent time.

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Every culture, and family, learns different customs.  It would be so boring to ignore them.  The more people I meet, the more interesting the world becomes.

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I was glad to be reminded of “African” time from my Mexican mom’s.  And see that time, is relative.

 

Getting …. stuff done! June 24, 2019

 

 

 

 

I have honest to goodness, seriously been getting a ton of stuff done!  I mean, like, super duper getting things done!

Graduating children, of the male variety in our house of course.

Growing kittens to their maximum size – can we say giant kitties?!

Working on the house – which includes several new skills!

The garden of course – ’tis the season.

Teaching the last child to drive – (“But did you die” should never be the theme of a drive.)

I’ve gotten so much done, that I finally have things to post!  Good things!  Things you’ll actually want to see – ’cause they’re pretty awesome if I do say so myself.

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We’re at a pause, we can’t move forward with some of the bigger changes until the water softener is put it.  So… we wait.  Until then, I have time to set aside my hammer, nails, glue and bandages to finally sit down and type.

I’ll start with the simplest tonight.  The graduating third-born.

 

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At his graduation party at church, they asked for a small bio of each kid – this is a slightly edited version of his –

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“Harrison, middle name is after all three of his grandfathers. The third son of four. Our “Pooh-bear”. And known as his dad’s “mini-me”. He started his life the way he continued it – relaxed. Nearly three weeks late, he decided the night before induction that maybe he should in fact, make an exit and came out on his own. But what he lacked in promptness, he made up for in expedience. Something that continues to this day.

At 10 lbs even, he made a big entrance into our family. Over the next few years, his quiet and relaxed disposition, chubby smile, demand for exactness and the love of ALL foods made him stick out from his brothers. Often times making sure even his older brothers stuck to the rules, but also protecting what was his by any means possible – heaven help the brother that moved his toys from their carefully aligned position!

After discovering him hiding his toys, and food, in his diaper so no one else could touch them, he was given a rolling backpack that he was known for for years by anyone who knew him. Carrying it every where he went with all of the life possessions that any a small boy could ever need. Most notably – his snack and the Honey Baked Ham catalog he learned to read with. To this day he still protects his most prized possessions and favorite books, but on shelves thank goodness.

If you were to ask his four year old self to help out with chores you’d be greeted with a “sleeping Harrison” with his head tilted back and a fake snore – “Honk-shoo, Honk-shoo”. Today, he still has an uncanny knack to “not hear you” if necessary, but he’s also one of the first out the door to get his chores done.

As he got older and started to read something other than his catalogs, his love of learning leaped ahead of his brothers and he started school two years earlier than the rest. The only one to never argue about or skip an assignment, or send one back undone, he was a breath of fresh air to teach. He will gladly share his love of history, geography, languages and politics with anyone near. And will try just about any food offered for the sake of the experience.

While his insistence to be right can sometimes make you want to bang your head against the wall, his dimpled smile and soft hugs make all things right again.

He grew up in church, and going to church camps. But made his commitment the summer of 2015 getting baptized. Jumping into the lake with 100’s of people watching, with all his clothes still on – he was ready! Then he learned he could share his faith, and meet new people from around the world, and that’s when his faith really took off. His passion to spread the word has been ignited!

He’s a military brat from birth and has enjoyed, or not enjoyed, several places in the US. With each move, he quietly discovered the world around him.

As we watch him make his next move, this time on his own, we can only imagine what he’ll discover. Whether he decides on law, pastorship, military, teaching History, all of the above or something he hasn’t even thought of yet – what ever he chooses, his relaxed disposition, thirst for knowledge and ability to casually lead those around him will take him to places he could never imagine and we can only dream of.”

 

He’ll be with us for a few more months – rent is high in our house.  But we’ll enjoy him while he’s still hanging out with us.

 

And while my dentist man and I chant “Three down, one to go!” I am also very well aware at how much I’m going to miss each and every one of them.  “The days are long, but the years are short” is all to true.  But we don’t discover that until it’s too late.  But with that said…

…three down, one to go!

 

 

 

Just me September 23, 2018

 

 

Picture this –

Me, pulling out of my long, multifamily, gravel driveway, onto the winding main road into town.  The road is 40 mph (64 kph), and we pull out behind a blind corner.

This is also the same corner that several car accidents have happened since we’ve been here.  I’ve called on two myself.  One guy clipped a power pole about 3 feet from the top.  Quite the sight to see.

For our neighborhood, besides the risk of getting hit when pulling out, these accidents cause power outages, which is frustrating because we can’t use our toilets (or anything using the well) when the power goes out (pretty much the only downfall to living in the sticks for me).  For the people living on that main road however, it could mean their fences, livestock, or even house or family could be taken out.

 

As I pulled out a few days ago, one of the people on this road jumped out from behind her fence to start screaming at me to slow down.  Looking down at my speedometer, I wasn’t even going the speed limit yet.  Actually, my ancient vehicle really can’t make it to the speed limit by her driveway, but I appreciate her faith in my van.

I fully admit, in my startled state, I stopped, turned around and may have exchanged word with her.  (No cursing!)  After she tried her best to insult me – calling me a young mother – at 42, I drove away.

After thinking about this though, I realized she did have a very valid worry.  She was however, going about solving it in a very poor way.  Causing another accident by scaring the pants off of someone probably isn’t what she was going for.

 

Here’s my bigger issue –

 

I realized after this happened that, on any given trip out of my house, I fully expect someone to either yell at me for some random thing, or expect me to explain myself for some random thing (that’s usually none of their business).

 

 

Like what you say?

I’ve had a teacher yell at me for cheating, after she said I could ask for help.

I’ve been yelled at for asking for my child’s blood type.  “If you wanted to know who the father is, you need to pay for that yourself.”  (The pediatrician was NOT happy about this.  Same nurse later yelled at me because said child pooped while I was changing him.)

I’ve been yelled at walking my (very young) boys down the street to “Stop having kids” from a passing car.

I’ve had someone stop me and my (very young) boys so they could tell me what a horrible mother I was because one ran ahead of me, and threaten to call the police.

I’ve had a random person walk up and ask if all the boys are from the same father.

I’ve been asked if I was done having children while shopping for an oven.

I once had a customer ask about a recipe I make, and after I told them the recipe, they said they couldn’t make it because “they work”.  I literally had to check my outfit to see if I was wearing my uniform.  (Apparently working at a grocery store wasn’t actually “work”?)

I had a checker yell at me for taking too much of her time with the amount of groceries I had…  (that was seriously a weird one).

“You have to work and your husband is a dentist?  He must not be very good.”  (Someone who apparently thinks dental school and dental practices are free.  And who has never experienced a flood/bad renters… or, real life.)

 

This is just a *very* small sample of weirdness.

 

This can’t just be me, right?  Other people get yelled at randomly?  I know people say stupid things.  I know we ALL say stupid things.  But I seem to be a magnet for weird, bizarre, rude, intrusive behavior.

 

So what happened with the lady at the bottom of the hill?

 

I came back the next day with flowers and a note, explaining the situation better –

• I dealt with the situation poorly, however… popping out to yell at people isn’t very wise.
• I wasn’t even going the speed limit yet.
• We have to speed up quickly so we don’t get hit from the blind corner.
• It’s NEVER “young mom’s” causing the accidents, it’s dudes in their early 20’s (but I appreciated the compliment).
• I wanted the problem fixed too, so I called the police to see what they could do to help the situation – they’re working with us now.

The comical sad part, was her sour-puss face and angry hands on hips as she stood behind her screen door, when I dropped them off.  I then realized she’s just not a happy person.  No note, or flowers can fix that.  But I’ve done my part.

 

As for myself, I refuse to let the sour-puss, cranky, rude, intrusive people of the world to make me the same way.

But I could really do without the yelling…

 

What weird, rude, intrusive questions have people felt they needed to ask you?  Or things people thought were appropriate to randomly yell at you?  (Keep it clean please.)

 

Time off for good behavior August 26, 2018

 

 

I am fully aware that it’s been a year.  I timed it that way actually.

 

This last year has been a doozy.  Crazy.  Exhausting.  Productive.  Frustrating.  Amazing.

 

I’ll just cover the instigator of my time off here though.  It was this time last year, that we began our process of selling “that house”.  The bane of my existence.  What kept me up at night, and crazy by day.

As of Nov. 15th, after three, very VERY long months, we had a sold house.

 

You would think we would be ready to shout it from the roof tops – party like crazy!  Instead, it felt more like a limp to the finish line where we fell over it instead of a victory lap.  Our victory lap instead came as a year long recovery.  Well, it may actually take a bit longer than that.

The process itself to sell it, was about as pleasant as it was to own it.  But the people who helped us were amazing – complete blessings!  They got us through it and it’s still kind of not real to us, even a year later.

 

But the year to follow has been an absolute whirlwind.  Seeing so many blessings come after the sale lifting us back up, has been the best part of the whole process.  From nearly no money left in the bank account the day of the sale and still needing bills covered – to the money coming in right on time.  And money to cover the actual completion of the renovations instead of our east coast money pit.  Yes, we’ve finally started.  A stove again.  Floors going in.  Sinks and tiles and faucets that we’ve been without.  It’s exhausting work, but it feels so good to finally see progress, and to walk on real floors again.

 

While this isn’t a long one, it is the beginning of being back.  Not totally sane, but back again.  With lots of craziness to share.  Pictures to post.  News to announce.  And creatures to show off.

 

So… thank you for your patience.  It paid off.  Let the stories begin…

Scewed perspective March 7, 2017

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I know it’s not Saturday, but something has been on my mind all day.  Sharing usually fixes that right?

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One of the last few days of work, I came in at later than usual (5:00 am if you care), so the parking lot already had cars in it.  Because it had been snowing all night, the lines weren’t visible.  People parked the best they could, but inevitably some were parked a little off… or more than a little off.  The whole row was actually tilted the complete wrong way on a one way row.  By the time I got out of work, the snow had melted enough from people driving on it, to show the correct position to park.  I of course, was now the only one parked incorrectly because every one else that was there before me, had left work already.

Someone was nice enough to leave a “clever” note written with the winter grime on my back windshield, along with their less than creative drawing of a penis.  Which, had nothing to do with what they wrote.  I mean, if they had said I parked like one, I would have at least gotten the reference?!  But no, it was a random penis, along with the fact that I don’t park well (paraphrased).

My point.

We don’t always know why people do what they do.  They may actually be doing something because they really are just that screwed up, or uncaring.  Or life’s circumstances may have brought them to that spot, in that way.  Someone else may have caused the position they’re now stuck in.

Most things we can avoid by just being proactive – I could have come out on my lunch break to move my car, but the thought never even crossed my mind while I was doing my job.  I was focused on doing my work well, not on where my car was parked, or if the snow was even melting.

The next time you see someone doing something that seems totally bass ackwards, or even parked strangely for that matter, stop to think before leaving that giant penis.  First, does the penis make sense with what I’m writing?  And second, could they maybe, possibly just have been screwed over by the people before them?

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Ok, some people really are just jerks!

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