country.

so. i decided when i received this new camera that i would slow down, and when something caught my eye that i wanted to take a picture of, i would. so last night i'm driving from KCs football game in napanee back to north webster and randomly there is this freaking rainbow. i say randomly because there had been no rain . . . anyway, so i find a place to pull over (this is tricky because its mostly corn fields, and the corn was too high to shoot over) so i find a place and low and behold i have in front of me a golden field, a barn, a country house and a PICK UP TRUCK. nothing says indiana like all that! and the rainbow of course. so i have the camera in the back hatch of chriss car that im driving so i go around to the back and get the camera out. as im doing this i'm thinking, please dont let some wacked out meth head find me and kill me out here. i have a deep seated fear of the country. growing up a city girl you get me out there and i'm one step away from a full fledged panic attack. low and behold a car is coming down this deserted country road and being the good city girl i am i pretend to ignore it, line up my shot and keep one eye on the mother. the car slows and my heart picks up a beat. then i notice its a cop and my heart picks up another beat. because if anything scares me more than the country, its a cop. especially a country cop. so here i am. standing behind a VW rabbit, Nikon camera in my hand with dereks $1000 long lens, black leather boots, black leather jacket and a bad attitude. conflicting image im sure. so the cop ever so cautiously and slowly exits his vehicle and i pin him down with my best "im not a meth head, dont rush me, and you better stay where you are" stare and say "do we have a problem?" (now, this goes against everything chris has tried to teach me about how to talk to a police officer. for some reason the whole sir, officer, bs goes right out my head) . . 

officers replies "what are you doing?"

me (looks at camera and back at him) "taking a picture"

officer "do you have a flat? are you broke down?"

me: no. i'm taking a picture. (holds camera up) of that rainbow.

officer: oh. so you dont need any help?

me: nope. i'm good.

(at this point i'm really resisting the urge to add "i just thought it would give me something to do while my batch cooks on my dash, the fumes were KILLING me!")

officer: ok then. well i hope your picture comes out ok.

he seems confused.

me" well. thanks for stopping"

off he goes. it was was bizarre. i snapped a few shots and got the hell outta there. the country is creepy. 

bessie.

bessie is my car. and this post is about bessie.
now i know i'm one of those people, who gets attached to inanimate objects. a trait i've very obviously passed on to my children (yeah, you should see the number of rubbermaid storage bins in my basement), but yesterday, i was able to justify why i'm so attached to this car. this is the story of bessie.


on a humid 90+ degree saturday in July of 2000 i woke up and decided it was time to buy a "new" car. what makes this noteworthy is i was 7 months pregnant with my third child. now after you hear this next bit, you will wonder how i could have ever ended up divorcing a saint such as Steve. because when i informed him he needed to load up the two kids into our van, and that we were going to Kelly's to trade it in all he said was ok. now I saw the look in his eye. the one that says "i dont know why you are doing this, and i want to ask you. but i fear you and those pregnancy hormones so i'm going to just do what you say but so you know, i do think you have lost your mind". yes, his eyes said that. so i did what any sane pregnant woman does. i scream (while crying) "I'M 30 FUCKING YEARS OLD DRIVNG A FOREST GREEN PONTIAC TRANSPORT THAT LOOKS LIKE A SPACESHIP MATED WITH A BOX AND I'M NOT DOING IT ANY MORE!"
so 5 hours, 1 new loan, 2 sobbing sweaty hungry children later: mommy has a 2 door purple pontiac grand sport and the children's beloved van stays behind at Kellys. (it took years for them to forgive me for parting with that van). this is how bessie came to me.


6 months after the birth of child three, we added a third vehicle to our garage. a 1997 Mercury Villager mini van.

i did not give up bessie. at the time i was selling pampered chef to bring income into the household and i used bessie to travel to my shows.  bessie and i rocked out to ballads of love on those sometimes long drives home. bessie and i blasted barney songs while driving the kids to preschool. bessie got left behind when we went on our last family vacation. the mini van was required for that long trek to the coast, and when we got back, things had changed.

 the nostalgic songs of love became cries. 

once upon a time i was falling in love, 
now i'm only falling apart, 
theres nothing i can do, 
a total eclipse of the heart .  . . .


I found you standing there
When I was seventeen
Now I'm thirty-two
And I can't remember what I'd seen in you
I made a promise
Said it everyday
Now I'm reading romance novels
And I'm dreaming of yesterday 


The songs got angrier.


No matter how hard I try
You’re never satisfied
This is not a home
I think I’m better off alone
You always disappear
Even when you’re here
This is not my home
I think I’m better off alone



fast forward a few months and bessie, the kids and i are on our own. im driving down highway 30 in new haven, having just dropped off my bankruptcy papers. i'm losing my house. my husband lives in an apartment and i'm having an anxiety attack so bad i have to pull off the road. i cant breathe. i know its just another anxiety attack, i cant breathe. i'm losing my house, i'm losing my house, i'm losing my house. i've left my husband, my kids are so small.  my baby is 15 months old. i have no job. i have no education. and i've left my husband and i'm losing my house. i love my house. my kids love their house. oh my god. bessie waits until i can drive again.

months later: bessie and i are screaming PINK out the windows: 

hey hey man

whats your problem,

i see your trying to hurt me bad

dont know what your up against. 

maybe you should re consider

come up with another plan

cause you know i'm not that kinda girl

to lay there and let you come first

i'm a few years into this thing, i'm doing it. i'm surviving. i've been hurt. i've been broken. ive been through hell. but i'm getting there. bessie and me. we are going places. i've got a job. i'm doing ok. thats the best of it. i'm doing ok. we are doing ok.

bessie gets flooded. the water is almost up to the radio. the fucking apartment complex has a flash flood zone in front of my apartment. someone forgot to tell me this. the insurance company wants to scrap bessie. but shes paid for so i lie about the depth of the water. i spend all day using a wet vac to get the water out, by myself. always by myself. everything. everything. everything.  i have to cut the carpets, pull out her padding. she smells. the smell never goes away. parts start to rust. the gear shift sticks. i wd40 the hell out of that car. the transmission develops a grinding noise that 8 years later is also still there. she runs. we keep on going.

hate me
hate me today
hate me tomorrow
hate me for all the things I didnt do for you

.  . . . these lyrics come through my speakers and every bit of forward slams me to the ground. i'm on my way to a client meeting and once again i'm on the side of the road. i cant see for the tears. i have snot running down my chin. i'm sobbing. from the depth of my soul. for the first time (but certainly not the last) i mourn the end of my marriage. its like my husband, my best friend, wrote this song for me:

And with a sad heart i say bye to you and wave.
kicking shadows on the street for every mistake that i have made.
and like a baby boy i never was a man.
until i saw your blue eyes cry and i held your face in my hands.
and then i fell down yelling "make it go away!',
just make her smile and come back and shine, just like it used to be . .
 and then she whispers "how could you do this, to me?"

.

life moves on. you recover. you laugh. you cry. you fall. you get up. and all along the way, i'm singing in my car. i'm singing love songs. and angry songs. and bitter songs. and songs about divorce. and songs about meeting someone new. 3 days grace vents my rage. liz phair becomes my voice. divorce song. fuck and run. johnny feelgood. polyester bride. white chocolate space egg is always on play, over and over. Digger. dear god digger.

little digger, don't be shy
You saw your mother with another guy
You think you'll tell her that she's one of a kind, you say
My Mother is mine

You put your trucks up on the bed next to him
So he can get a better look at them, you say
This ones my favorite one, this one you can't have
I got it from my Dad, you say
I got it from my Dad.

so. today i'm having one of those rare moments when its bessie and i. its been 9 years and 6 months since i decided i could no longer be married. since i decided i needed to do this myself. and bessie and i have been singing a lot more happy songs the last few years. she's taken on more tears, but more smiles.  bessie is a bit worn. not much works. she drives. and the radio still kicks ass. bessie and i, with her windows randomly going up and down. the the wipers shutting off on their own. the windows fogging up. we are having a dance party. lady gaga. LMFAO

Party rock is in the house tonight.
everybody just have a good time.  . ..

 is making us shake our booties. and bessie IS shaking her booty. it may SEEM like an alignment problem but i think its really from all the grooving we've done. she can tear it up off a light. her get up and go is still there. her seats fit perfectly to my form, shes held me for so many years. through the sadness and pain. through the laughs and hilarity that come from girls nights out. shes absorbed spilled drinks. taken the dropped ashes. shes carted kids, been smeared with melted crayons. beat up, knocked down. and expected to hold up with very little care and minimal maintenance. shes strong and solid. rough but comfortable. she's got grit and she's still going. maybe thats why i love her so much. i see my foot resting on that special spot on the door, the wheel dropped low between my knees and we amble on down the road and i realize.

 i love her because not only has she been there for me. she is me. 

compromising.

so i was pondering relationships this morning. one of the local radio shows was talking about what careers women find sexy. lawyer, politician, doctor, pilot and firefighter (not in order). hmmmm. personally, the only career remotely sexy to me is of course firefighter (it must be the pants??!)  regardless it got me thinking about what we find appealing, how we end up in the relationships we do and what we give up to stay in them. i was thinking about all of the people i know well, and the people i only know from the "outside". there is one couple in particular who i watch from afar that appears to "have it all".  He obviously makes bank, she stays home, they travel all over with their two children. from the outside it looks like the ideal life. but what is the ideal life and what goes on behind closed doors? maybe its the skeptic in me but i suspect everyone is giving up something. appearances: when i told my closest friends and family i was leaving my husband of 11 years, people were quite surprised. its not that i didnt bitch about my marriage occasionally. but mostly, i kept up appearances. you smile. you hold hands. you pose for the pictures. you interact at social functions. it was always very important to me to NOT be the wife who bitched about her husband. did i? i dont even remember now. but what i do know, is i was SAD. i was lonely. i was starved for physical attention. my husband was a great provider. he was a great father. he was a good domestic partner. he was my best friend . . .but i was LONELY. i cant put my finger on what exactly it was i wasnt getting, but i wasnt getting it. the road thereafter is moot. .... but when i look around at other relationships, including my current one, i seem to examine very closely what the compromises are. and are they a deal breaker. do you give up mind blowing sex for someone who makes you laugh? do you give up someone who makes you laugh for someone who is great at remembering special occasions? or is there this utopia land where a small percentage of people are in relationships where the sex is great, you get flowers more than once a year, all occasions are acknowledged with a thoughtful gift, little cards are left in your suitcase when you go out of town, underwear is never left on the floor, toothpaste is never in the sink, you laugh, you talk, you dont stress about money, your kids are squared away and life is just easy? nope. not even in the movies.
relationships are all about compromise, giving up this, for a little more of that. and trying to make sure that what you are getting is way more than what you are losing. that, i think, is the key. but i do consistently ponder, what it is, other people have given up and what part of their soul is screaming.

flying.

so. i've been wanting to write my daughter a letter that sort of sums up everything i'm feeling about her leaving for school. more like how i feel about her graduating from hs. going to college and essentially being an adult.  but I found i've been unable to write. i think of it and my throat tightens up and the tears start and i cant get anything started. so if i was going to write a letter to my daughter, here are some things I would say.

i'm sorry. i'm sorry for all the things i wanted to give you and couldnt. like parents who had their shit together. who stayed married and bought you matching furniture. parents who didnt yell or cuss. im sorry i didnt bake cookies more, and i'm sorry i didnt let you help. i'm sorry i hated messes and yelled about socks.  i'm sorry i could never afford that canopy bed you wanted, with the pink top and the netting. 100 times in my head i redecorated your room with fairies and sparkles and every month the bills piled up and it never happened.
im sorry when you were goofy i told you to settle down. i'm sorry when you were loud i told you to be quiet. im sorry when we were in disney and you threw a fit we taped it because you were hysterical. : ) im sorry you had to grow up so fast.
i wanted to be the perfect parent, and i wasnt. i made bad choices sometimes. i let my own problems take me away from my children sometimes. i wanted to give you everything i had, but sometimes i didnt have much left.

im proud. im proud of every single thing you do. i was proud the first time you said SHIT at 18 months because you used it properly in a sentence. i was proud when you were 6 in gymnastics and couldnt point your feet. i was proud you tried soccer and baseball and ballet. i was proud of the times you stood up to me. called me out and demanded more of me. i am proud of the sister you are. you are their second mother and you did a good job. i was proud of you at 11 for taking care of two little boys. and doing it well. i'm proud of how you stuck to what you believed in and didnt let peer pressure change you. I'm proud of your self confidence (while you think you lack it) and the way you walk through life with your shoulders thrown back (metaphorically, stand up STRAIGHT!) : ) Im proud of all the things you accomplished in HS, from speech to editor and all the days spent after school getting extra help with your studies. you amaze me in your tenacity.

im excited. i'm excited to see what your future holds. to see how you maneuver through college. you will be so homesick. but you will be ok. im excited to hear about your classes and your friends. i'm excited to see what life path you choose. i'm excited to see you go off and be a kid. and i hope you will throw yourself head first into digging in and enjoying your life. putting your needs and your wants at the forefront and knowing that no matter WHAT road you travel, we love you and are proud of you.

i'm sad to see you go. because i will miss the 10 minute download. the goofy silly hyper post work taylor who tells me about a week in 10 min. but i'm looking forward to visiting you. and skyping with you. and sending you things. for some reason i feel i'll be a better parent....

mostly what I would tell my daughter, is i am only the person i am today, because she exists.
my bird. she flies.

Blended.

This could be a really awesome entry about being a blended family, but alas, I'm not feeling like going THERE this morning. But I do have an idea I wanted to share with other parents. One of my biggest challenges last school year was getting my then 13 year old to eat breakfast. I completely get not wanting to eat as 10 am is more my speed for breakfast, and even then breakfast food is not my choice. But sending my kid off to school day after day with no food felt like a major parenting fail. I tried breakfast bars (most are crap), a plethora of cereals, home made pancakes . .. nothing. Then i was on attempt 10,342 to loose weight and decided I was going to start with protein shakes and bought myself this dandy of a blender. Then it occurred to me that maybe I could get my KID to drink them. Low and behold, after a few failed attempts to please his palette, I found some combinations that worked. For Chase it is pretty simple: frozen fruit of any kind (i prefer to go with the more nutrient dense berries, cherries etc), some fruit juice and a scoop of vanilla protein.  Voila. Pictured is my blender. Its perfect and I've been using it for over a year and havent killed it. $60.00 at Walmart. . .  I have started adding a bit of wheat germ and flax oil to his smoothies (shhhh) which help with his dry skin and are just all around good for you. I'd like to try some of the naked juices in there, but they are awfully pricey  . .

Gardening.

So, on to gardening! Low and behold this city girl has found a new love. Chris and I decided to put in a garden this year and went round and round on the best way to do it. I wanted to put it in ground but the only spot in our north webster house was over the septic. EWW. So container garden it was. We used existing materials. The tubs are left over from Chris's work which we cut in half and lined. The wood was all scrap wood we had lying about. We are pretty excited about our first year. I'm often surprised that i MISS my garden and the first thing I do each Wed. when i get to the NW house is check my plants! So fun!

A friend of mine today in response to a message said this "our lives right now are like shit and magic all mixed together. i'm somewhat bewildered and confused but i think things are going to turn out ok for us."

This is probably one of the best things I've heard in awhile.  I met this amazing group of women awhile back. Some came to me through myspace. Some through Facebook. Some are in my neighborhood. But its been a long time since I've had girlfriends. Once upon a time I had really close girlfriends. But our lives changed and after awhile through different beliefs, distance and one nasty fight, I was floating in life with no female anchors.  Yes, I have female friends. Some very close ones. But it's been a long time since i've felt part of a group. Where I can float in and out as my life dictates, as all our lives dictate, and its easy . . 

They offer a hand, a quip, a heart. And never do i feel the sting of a knife in my back as so often happens with females. They dont always coddle you, but they always love you. For WHO you are. I am me. I'm messy and prissy. I'm vulgar and shy. I'm brave and I'm terrified. I'm shit and I'm magic.