Oklahoma sorrow.

Just six days ago – SIX DAYS ago I was talking to a friend I work with, volunteering at the library.  This woman has lived.  She is in her 70s… has numerous children and grandchildren and has had so many terrible events happen in her life…. car crashes, loss of child, limb amputation, drug addiction…. this woman is amazing for what she has endured.  We were talking about something quite mundane – I cant remember what exactly but she said how she and her husband, when first married over 50 years ago – had scrimped and saved and bought a house.  They had fixed up that house almost obsessively – making it the perfect home for their 3 children.  Then, after 6 years, in the blink of an eye, a tornado hit their town and everything they had ever owned was gone in the space of 53 seconds.  But they were safe. Their kids were safe.  And as she explained, since then there was NOTHING material that mattered in the same way.

I was relaying this tale to my 12 year old (who also knows my friend) as we drove on Sunday… trying to have him see how ‘things’ don’t really really matter.  It was a concept he sat and thought about.

Then Monday night our time as the reports came in from Oklahoma I thought of my friend and her past… I listened to the news and hoped the initial death count was wrong (luckily it was)….. and knew that for ALL those affected, their lives would never be the same again.

Now the press are covering the ‘recovery’ efforts – the films show the amazing efforts of the National Guard and emergency services and individual hero stories come to us.  There is grief and admiration and sorrow rolled into the whole event.

And I am sure that even as our daily lives continue, should we choose to donate to their funds or not, whether we still yell at our kids to get on with their chores and go to bed – we all see our loved ones and know how lucky we are to have them safe with us.

God bless Oklahoma and all they have endured.

Nobody tells you.

Nobody tells you that the squished pink baby you have just pushed out in the hospital – the one who you love unconditionally from that second on, will, in time,  be counting the days until they can leave you.  That they will think you a person so mean, so uncaring, so evil that they don’t want to talk to you.  That they have such anger towards you that they can’t possibly think that you have anything except their discomfort in mind.  They bicker about the most mundane of details surrounding their day – they hamper any effort to make amends with the issues they blame you for.  They make you doubt your very reason for being.

Nobody tells you that the man you swore to love ’til death so us part, makes you want to run away, makes you feel useless and unloved, makes you wonder whether you were ever meant to be married.  He can unleash the words he knows will re-open wounds but then make a dramatic gesture to show the world he loves you…. whilst just papering over the cracks of your already fragile psyche. Where a year can feel like a life time and your very thoughts seem controlled and contrived by his moods and his temper.  

Nobody tells you that you are supposed to want to spend time with your family.  That you should love them and they too should love you.  Because the blood flowing through your veins or the family web you have come to accept as truth, means that you have to care about them.  That speaking to them sometimes makes you wonder if there is any connection whatsoever or whether you would have had a more interesting conversation with a complete stranger on the street.  But the unknown has a less powerful impact of course… not the promise of guilt, the knowledge of your weakness, the fortitude of the past.

Nobody tells you that it’s ok to not have the answers to everything. To sometimes just sit and look into space, or trees and wonder, “is this it?”  Or “Can I manage?”  To spend time doing nothing but trying to fathom or evaluate what is going on…. not the things to be done, the conversations to be had but what is happening.  To stop and think about whether this is enough….not to list all that has been achieved in the day….. but to think about a difference made….to yourself or to others.  To wonder about those who will die today… those who will have bad news today…. those who make life changing decisions today.

Nobody tells you there’ll be days like this.

One night only.

There is a big local amusement park which kids love.  Every year, a group of schools in the city has a ‘special night’ where those few thousands of kids are invited to the park at a special discounted rate ($22.90 per person).  It is classed as a ‘private event’ but basically, anyone with ‘special code’ can log on and buy tickets.

Despite having lived here for 9 years I have never been to said park despite seeing the rides closely from Hubby’s office.  Two of my kids have been before with their various friends – this year however I really pushed for Mac to get to go too – with me.  Rory stayed home with Hubby as I thought he was maybe a bit young.  He was quite cross about this seeing as others in his class were going but I assured him he would go next year.

I am not a fan of amusement parks, it must be said.  I remember 2 or 3 trips to Al.ton Towers as a kid… the most memorable being with some French exchange students – wow, I was so ridiculously happy that day…..I think they can be a rip off,(the amusement parks, not the French per se)  especially where you spend ages queueing when there are too many people wanting the rides….. but I was here for my kids, not for me… although Paddy soon left us to go off with his friends.

(Incidentally a ‘rich friend’ of his upgraded 3 of his tickets to ‘rapid ride experience = jump to the front of the queue tickets – and assured his mates he’d go with them all at different stages….. of course he didn’t – which was fine…..but interesting to hear him gloat it all around for the whole night)…

Before the lines got really long, we all went up to get on the Mind Eraser rollercoaster….. and as the wagons pulled in and I read the description of the ride (The Mind Eraser is a monster coaster that suspends riders (legs and feet dangling) and blasts them through rollovers, dives and double corkscrew spins at speeds greater than 50 mph.) I was secretly hoping that Mac would back out and yes – he did – big sigh of relief from moi…. We watched Paddy get on with a complete stranger…. and 2 minutes later he came back looking quite red in the face (the force had slammed his head against the side bumper cushion at a weird angle)… but he survived it….. claimed later the queues were too long to go another ride on it though…..

Eventually Mac and I went on the ‘Sidewinder’ – a smaller rollercoaster that still had drops and upside down loop and then the whole thing repeated backwards.  We heard departing ‘guests’ claim the back seats were the best… so we naively sat there (should had we had just been drenched on the water ride) got clicked in, double checked, bags(me) and glasses (Mac) left off and off we went.

O.M.G.  I screamed like a girl. No in fact I screeched like a banshee.  I HATED it.  The feeling of my stomach lurching, the weightlessness of being upside down (I knew it was coming and had closed my eyes as I screamed with fear)… and then muttered ‘you ok Mac?’ as he was suddenly quiet….. and as we lurched to a stop high up in the air I saw the rosy cheeks of a middle age woman in a tower next to us – the control demon I guess – who must have read the fear in my eyes…. maybe that is why we appeared to stay there for what felt like 10 minutes… as the adrenaline kicked in and I realised we had to do the whole bloody thing backwards again.  Perhaps it’s similar to being in a fist fight where you know the blows are coming and it will hurt  and you brace yourself and it still hurts.  But the way the evil woman with the control chuckled ‘byeeeee!’ as we lurched backwards at speed – a loop de bloody looping was just plain mean.

We made it back onto terra firma.  But I was shaking all the way down the steps.  Secretly praying Mac would not want to go again (he didn’t) – and keen as anything to meet up with my even more chicken friend who wouldn’t even get on the Sunflower swings with her kid.   I was up for any ride providing it didn’t go upside down. ANY.  Olympic diver I will not make.  Alas I think I’ll live.

I spluttered to Bee this morning how much I hated it.  Really really hated it.  Just couldn’t even fathom the words to describe the fear/dread of it all.  She seemed to think she must have her rollercoaster love from her dad.  I agree.

Al.ton Towers it was not – a relatively small park – with a big water area (not yet open this summer) but a mix of little kid and fear inducing rides offer a lot for the cost I dare say…. although there were so many attractions that had height restrictions I was glad we’d left Rory at home.  We went on to do a few games where we won him some prizes which he loved when he found them on his bed this morning.  He obviously rushed in and asked Mac how it had all been because when he came down for breakfast he said;

“So you only did one rollercoaster and then you chickened out?”  Well I suppose I did – and if Mac wants to put the blame on me (he went back to ‘our rollercoaster’ with his friend later and came straight back down again) then so be it.  I HATED it – just in case there was any misunderstanding.

This was a caricature we had done just before we left.  Best deal and memory of the night (Mac loved the posing bit and was very impressed with what the lady did in 5 minutes).

 

This was the week…that…

…..I had the most amazing Mother’s Day despite being a single parent……..I told a teacher st school that she had the best cleavage at a party in a non-lesbian way…..I took one of my kids to the Drs to get him a clean bill of health and settle their mind as they keep worrying that they think they won’t wake up in the morning…brain cancer worry…and ‘mi-brains’ (migraines) were some of the symptoms said child listed…..I talked to a local Olympian’s mum and nearly burst into tears (can we yell ‘hormones’)……I saw numerous near miss accidents that scared me into driving 200% well……I realized I will never be one of those people who has no conscience In life’s wrong doings…..oh and I finally got a haircut (realizing the kids only have 10 days left of school) and we leave on our hols in 3 weeks! Aaa argh!

The school disco.

Paddy (12) went to a disco last night which was held at a local school.  It was quite a last minute arrangement seeing as the email invitation to the whole school didn’t get sent properly.  Anyhow, for once he didn’t  lose the chance to attend due to bad behaviour and showered, covered in half a can of Ly.nx Hubby dropped him off at the hosting school.

Each school invited (7 in all) had to provide 2 chaperones  - either teachers or parents. 

I picked him up with a couple of his friends at 10pm and when they were in the car we were chatting about how the evening had been.

“Did you PAY Mrs Arnold?” Paddy asked in an exasperated tone.  I assured him I didn’t know WHAT he was talking about.. and he went on to explain how EMBARRASSED he was because during a slow dance when he had been dancing with a girl in his year who is JUST HIS FRIEND, said math teacher had come up to them, interrupted by placing her arm between them and said the words that every kid at Catholic school never wants to hear:

‘Remember to make way for Je.sus.’

I nearly crashed the car laughing. Assured him I had not paid the teacher a penny and asked if he was mortified.  He clearly was. The teacher also stood for the remainder of the dance to ‘keep an eye on them.’  Apparently earlier in the evening, Paddy had been chatting to one of his mates a couple of years old – she’s a good friend of his, and the same teacher whispered to said girl how Paddy was too young for her….. Sounds like he had quite the night of it but strangely enough he is not looking forward to her classes next week :)

Was chatting to friend whose daughter was also at said dance.  My friend and I text all day long and she had already forewarned me that she was giving her phone to her daughter to take along to the dance so ‘radio silence’ should occur…..

Seems said girl chatted up a boy from a different school who is 15…and they chatted about video games etc and girl gave out her phone number FORGETTING IT WAS HER MUM’S PHONE.  

So the texts started coming in around 11pm from said boy, complete with photos and reminding her of all the video games she has recommended to him (none of which she has actually played).  Parents are none too impressed at the ease with which she lied to this fella all night, not to mention how lame it was to not realise my friend would be seeing all the messages!!  Whoops.

All in all both kids learned a lot from such a scholastic event it seems!!!

House pain.

Perhaps it is the time of year but we are having lots of things done in the house at the moment.  We’re just getting used to our new furnace/water heaters/A/C and humidifier – which sounds very mundane (it is) but was an expensive upgrade that should hopefully bring some utility bills down in the future.  An electrician needs to come and fix a few things…our industrial fridge needs a service, there is pricing for mulch from the gardener, some glass shelves being custom made, sprinkler systems turned on, windows cleaned inside and out and gutters cleaned and repaired.  It is regular home maintenance and all outsourced as it in not something Hubby and I are talented with being able to do easily.  Add to this some sourcing tile/silestone for redoing our master bathroom in the summer, and turning a room in the mountains into a media room and it’s a little bit hectic with co-ordinating everything to work…(3 sets of workers due Monday at 8.30).

I am, quite frankly a bit sick of it.  I love our house…..and we pay a premium for where it is…which I think is overrated to be honest…but it’s where we’re going to stay for the foreseeable future.  Whilst it is a 14 mile round trip to get the boys to school, high schools are really close and that is where our location is exceeding itself.  But I am still sick of the maintenance/general upkeep.

By UK standard we have a very big house. By American standards we have a big house.  In our neighbour hood we have ‘the small house on the corner’ but with 6 of us living here we probably have less square footage per person than all the other 80 houses in here.  We don’t use ALL our space….but we use 90% of it every day.  I am not sure most people can say that around here.

We went out with friends this week that we haven’t seen in a while.  They had had their house for sale a good 3 years ago but nothing came of it and they decided to stay put.  I didn’t know that last year a buyer approached them with an offer they could not refuse.  Not only did they agree to sell (they have bought one in the same street – a few doors down which they are remodeling) but they decided to make a fresh start.

They knew they were going to be in an interim rental property.  They also knew that they were going to design their new house in a very different style to the one they had lived in for the previous 15 years.  So they took the clothes they needed and they left.  And they had an estate sale in their old house and sold EVERY THING.  Every unique piece of furniture hand made to fit the spaces in that house – sold.  Their wedding china (never ever used) – sold. Paintings they had bought at auction – sold.  Bedroom furniture – sold.  Kitchen appliances – sold sold sold.

I will say that these people are in a fortunate position to be able to do this financially.  They are downsizing…and even in their new house they will no longer need 2 full time staff as they had needed before….  But to sell everything and start again…well it made me think..

Could I do it?  Would I want to do it?

Whilst there are ‘things’ I would want to keep, in thinking what is in every room of my house, there’s really not that much I would be loathed to be parted from…… really VERY little.  

Even with the work we are having done outside in the garden there are changes being made.  The jungle gym (swing set) is going.  I could get all romantic about it and say Rory still plays on it but he really doesn’t so much…. could say that is hold so many memories – it really does – but also my kids are growing up fast.  Bee will be off to college in 3 years..there is some thinking ahead to be done.

So whilst I think our friends are brave, they have older kids….but they inspired me to think how I could easily do that too – could you?

Wordless Wednesday

The worst of times.

Today, Bee (15) went to her first funeral.  She didn’t have to attend but chose to go.  I am very proud of her for making this choice.  A classmate from her school last year, finally lost his mother to a particularly awful form of cancer. (Although I know all cancer is terrible, of course). The woman made it a year from her diagnosis to her death.  By all accounts, as harsh as it may sound, her passing was a relief in the end. But she leaves behind 2 teen children with years of grieving ahead.  Bee’s class – despite all having gone on to different High Schools – made the decision to try and attend to show their support for him.  I was doubtful that he would even register it but from what she said about the moving service – I think, perhaps, he did.

Apart from the death of one’s own child, I think that leaving your children is one of the most harrowing scenarios ever. I have spent all week feeling ‘there but for the grace of God……’  She knew the odds were against her and she made sure that her kids were taken care of financially….. but the other things?  Bee asked me today if I thought the woman had written letters for her kids to read on future major events.  I didn’t know.  She knew it was coming I think, so perhaps this was part of her planning.  Is it a redeeming feature that her kids are going to be old enough to remember her properly? Or is it worse that they will never be rid of her final weeks and suffering days?  i don’t know.

I recently finished a couple of books that dealt with death…. one where an old man knew he had little time left and he got his estate in order and said his good byes to those he cared about…… another was about a young mum who had a tragic accident and died – leaving her to ‘see’ the after effects of her passing on her family’s lives and how her friends rallied around to take care of the two men left behind (her husband and young child).  It has been on my mind all week…how this would play out….because of the book and because of the death in the school community.  Suddenly bickering kids can be listened to and just absorbed… their fighting words showing who they are and my mind wanting to store these memories away as keepsakes rather than the nagging noise which normally prompts my telling them to ‘pack it in’ or ‘give it a rest.’ The everyday mundane becomes just snippets of life to be savoured.

I hardly knew the mom who died.  Despite our both having kids in the same year at the same school we had very little interaction.  So I have sympathy galore for her passing, but I didn’t go to the funeral.  I have thought of her kids all week and will continue to ask about them from my friend, their neighbour… Which seems like a futile thing to write.  But which, I hope makes sense.

No one wants to die when their kids are too young.  Well I would have said that no-one wants to die full stop, but a man where I volunteer with the library recently told me that at his age (guessing mid 80s – although he appears in excellent health) he just can’t wait to die.  As he has nothing left he wants to do.  For once this left me pretty speechless. I don’t think he said it to shock.  He’s a very intelligent man giving his reading matter and also what I know to be his former profession but still, nonetheless it was something you don’t hear too often.

As we were driving to pick up Bee from the funeral, the 9 and 7 year old were discussing death….

Mac (9): When I die I want to be buried in the garden…

Rory (7): Well who is going to do that?

Mac: My wife probably.

Rory: No – I think I should do it actually.  You know, in case your wife is unreliable.

 

On such a sad occasion I was still able to raise a little smile.  

One Thursday in May….

I saw how a friend had tweeted her view when she got out of bed.  For once she is having beautiful weather over there – and us, here in MAY – well, not so much.  Still sort of beautiful but a tad colder!  But I followed her lead and went and snapped a view from our bedroom and then from our bathroom…….

and suddenly all thoughts of wearing a nice skirt, and spring like colours – well suddenly vanished and out came the always turn to ‘black.’

I should also add that I recently had a ‘BIG SORT OUT’ of my closet which resulted in 5 full bin bags/trash bags going off to the charity shop.  It was a mix of things.  Some pieces I no longer wore.  Some didn’t fit. A lot held bad memories.  And in there I had a few items that were really expensive and then add any of the previous phrases.  Maybe it is due to being a ‘jumble sale child’ but I don’t spend a lot of money on my clothes.  Just last week a mom at school held a ‘trunk show’ for some label at her house and I looked at the invitation and the type of items and they were just way more than I would ever spend at all.  Once upon a time I would have felt compelled to show up to ‘support’ but not any more.  I just didn’t go and buy something I didn’t need.

Hubby is King of sorting out his closet (the thing about American walk in closets is that they can be so big, they let you hoard things you don’t really need anymore..).  Last month he got rid of Arm.ani and Paul Smith suits and it sort of made me think – well – if he can get rid of those,  then I can get rid of some of my unnecessary stuff.  And in the back of my mind I also hear MIL harping on about her run down, impractical 1980s kitchen which needs to be re-done but never will be because ‘it was very expensive, you know.’  I will not turn into that one!!

I had mentioned to a pal that I had had a big purge and a week later I was not missing ANY of it (although today I did look for a t-shirt that I think I maybe returned to the store the other week rather than keep…).  She mentioned how she has a friend who is RELENTLESS in sorting out her wardrobe.

“More than 5 bin bags relentless?” I asked?

“Oh yes” she went on – making me feel a little less accomplished…”her motto is, “If you haven’t worn it in the last 4 weeks……..”

4 WEEKS?  Wow.

I’ll stick where I am with a closet where  you can move the hangers on the rail and they MOVE rather than get shoved to a side.

And yet I am still wearing bog standard black……..

Ah well. Happy May. (goes off to find matching snow boots)……

Quote of the day.

It was almost a record here for April weather.  It got up to 82 degrees.  

Hubby – of Irish descent with crazy pale, not liking the sun, skin – still decided to go out for a run (nutter).

Suncream, hat and glasses accompanied his silly shorts and Andy Murray giving ‘monotone encouragement’ on his ipod and he was off.

Sweaty mess returned about an hour later.  I enquired as to whether any kids had shouted rude things to him again as he passed the Middle School (a few weeks ago one yelled  ’run faster old man!’ to him which I found hilarious)…..

“I saw my reflection in a few car windows…” he explained, “and even I thought I looked like a total wanker in this get up!”

My. sentiments. entirely.