expectations


Often times in life we have so many expectations placed on us.

It seems like they are there daily to keep you on your course or drive you out of your mind.

I know I place expectations on myself.

I often wonder if I am too hard on myself or not hard enough.

I know that others have expectations of me and I know that I let them down sometimes.

I hate letting people down.

Some matter more than other, but to me, they all matter to varying degrees.

I love being told I should raise or lower my expectations.

Please tell me about the how and why I should!

For general things, movies, going out in public, etc. I have placed lower expectations so that when I have a pleasant experience I am often surprised and happy that they met and exceeded my original expectation.

With people I place a higher expectation. Though I realize it is not more than I place on myself.

We all have quirks, issues and faults.

It isn’t about that.

More of the basic human decency to communicate, respect and not take each other for granted.

Lately I am finding that many friends and family have gone above and beyond when it comes to me and my own expectations.

I am constantly amazed when someone tells me I inspired them or I performed much better than anticipated.

I recently found myself facing the first time of not being able to meet a deadline. I physically could not do it.

One of my fabulous friends stepped up to the plate and just offered, no strings, to help me.

This is how my friends and I are. We just step in and help.

I can’t tell you how much this meant to me.

Another friend knew I was upset about having to go for a medical procedure and offered, again, to take off work and to the appointment. She had just done it and was offering to ask off again to take little old me downtown again and wait while I have the procedure done. She will then take me back to another mutual friend’s home where I will recover for the day.

These people don’t have to do these things for me.

I do not expect it.

Yet they show me they care by stepping up and going beyond “the basics”.

I am so blessed to be around folks like this the majority of the time.

I must say when I collect my friends, I only collect the best!

Have a fabulously graceless Friday my friends!

 

Happy Birthday to My Sister from another mister!


Sometimes in this life we get lucky.

We meet a friend who is so rare that we become friends with them as children and are able to carry that friendship through the years.

We make it through puberty, marriage, kids, moves, divorce, family craziness, friends together with others and even deaths.

If we are very, very fortunate that person becomes family to us.

Today I celebrate my sister from another mister!

Since I change all names to protect the innocent and insane alike I just have to say that one is hard because I want the world to know how my sister has literally saved my life in the over 35 years we have known each other.

I will call her Peevley because yes, there is an inside joke to that, but it makes me laugh every time I type it!

Some of you may can remember the song “Our house in the middle of our street”, well those words anyway. If you can’t then just go with it!

Our houses were right across the street from each other.

We literally could and would meet in the street and go to each other’s homes.

She is two years older than me but we are both about 20 in our minds so it all works out!

We tell people we share a memory and it’s actually true.

Parts of her childhood were not pleasant, so when she took protective measures to move on with her life, she blocked out more than just the bad parts.

So she has big Swiss cheese size holes in parts of her memory and I supply the information back to her.

It can really suck having such a good memory at times, especially when you have seen things you wish you could un-see but it’s there because that “steel trap” metaphor is for real in my world.

And yes, sometimes I make up stuff to “remind” her and usually get called on it. Most of the time!

Her “biological” parents and brother are no longer in our lives.

We just say we are twins and my family claims her.

Though we look Nothing alike, we do tell folks we are twins and amazingly many people believe us.

We are about the same height, no matter what she says about being taller, but that would be where the similarities end on the looks.

I have dark hair and olive skin and she has red hair and glowy white see through skin.

You see why I question those who think we’re twins?!

Not to mention our body parts are different sizes, her waist is smaller while I will never know the joy of the junk in the trunk comments she gets!

I tan and she burns turning red with green freckles.

We know when the other one is mad or upset sometimes by just a feeling.

Example, one of us feels strange and calls the other.

First question is “What is it?” Then the other proceeds to go on rant or explain what is getting to them.

No questions of “how did you know” we just know.

I know twins who have this and close sisters but we aren’t blood related.

She isn’t the only one I am this way with.

For the most part, we have a lot of the same friends.

However, we both have friends we will ask, “Please explain again why we like that person?” but will respect each other’s choices and reasons.

We don’t need nor do we “seek approval” we merely ask for advice and automatically accept each other for who we are.

We don’t have to like the decisions, actions or words of the other but we always accept and love each other no matter what.

I can’t imagine my life without her.

She lives nearly 13 hours away now and we still talk weekly and see each other at least once a year.

She was blessed to find her happily ever after when we were young, ok I know I am younger but she still wasn’t able to legally drink when she married “the boss”!

We are a part of each other and our families are so intertwined you need an index, compass and subscriptions to Psycho Weekly and National Geographic just to keep up!

We raised her kids and now mine.

It’s freaky really that my son could be her grandchild!

Her son is the eldest of our kids at like 27. If he is any older my mind can’t think of that right now as I remember when she was pregnant with him!

Our only girl is 25ish and of course the youngest boy turns 5 this year.

See what I mean by he could be the age of a grandchild if she had one?!

And she knows I am just messing with her by writing that!

Seriously, we have talked each other down off the proverbial cliff, listened, held hands, wiped tears and puke for each other.

I truly would give her a kidney if needed.

One of our “sharable” stories from the years was when we were teens, about 15 & 17, we snuck out of her house and met her boyfriend, also my good friend, and rode around until we could meet my boyfriend.

We met back up later, snuck back into her house and thought we were so cool and had gotten away with it.

Except we grew up in a neighborhood where everyone knew everyone and everyone watched each other’s kids.

We were so busy sneaking out and then back in that we failed to note our neighbors, who had been at midnight mass, in their driveway with a direct view to the window we climbed out of.

Of course they told our parents.

They all met at the local Burger King to plot our death over coffee!

Both her and my parents had been taping our phone calls.

BUSTED.

We both got a whopping and severely grounded for several months.

We were not “allowed” to “play together” for that summer, however, when school started back up I was allowed to ride with her to school and we had to come straight home and check in!

Never once did it cross our minds to “no longer be friends”.

If anything it was one of the many things that brought us closer.

Fast forward about 20 years and her husband was deployed to a warzone as he was in the Army Reserves.

This was his second deployment and their kids were now teens.

I thought nothing of driving up to be with her and the kids over the winter break.

Just as I would have it no other way to go back 6 months later when he returned and we held a celebration for his safe return.

Being so far apart makes life so challenging when you can just drive over, sit down with your friend and share time talking face to face.

But Peevley and I can just pick up the phone and we are right where we need to be.

I have made and collected so many friends in my life, but I was lucky to find and keep my Peevley this long.

We both make the effort to keep in touch and talk whether phone, text or emails. And, of course, the occasional SnapChat!

If we go more than a week without talking, which happens due to schedules, families and living in different time zones, we get weirded out and have to call just to “hear you irritatingly lovely voice” as we like to say.

Really it’s a sanity check for us both.

Without her I know I would be lost.

So to my sister, Thank You.

Thank you for always being there for me, for believing in me and staying with me even when it was hard, and I know it was at times!

You are the Best Sister, Friend, co-conspirator and woman I am privileged to share my life with!

Happy Birthday Peevley!

I love you!

From birth to earth my steel magnolia sister!

Have a Fabulously Graceless Wednesday!

me n peevleey

Please, tell me how I should “feel”


As everyone is aware, or at least the majority of folks, there is a lot going on in the world today.

Here in the good old USA, we have so much happening and watching the news can be depressing.

Recently, with the latest shooting, I was watching the newscast with a friend and we were discussing how horrible it was, wondering if the boy was mentally ill or a young man who got caught up in hate and “lost it”.

Several news reporters used the phrase, “We are trying to report how you should feel” regarding the shootings.

Really.

You want to tell me, and millions of viewers, how to feel about this situation?

Do you know me and my friends? Do you know all of those millions you try to delude?

I know that my friends and I have had varying feelings from shock, to anger, to disgust and just shaking our heads that yet another mass shooting had occurred by one of our own on American soil.

I have been stewing on this one for almost a week now, reading different opinions and reports.

Reading all that I can regarding this barely legal young man and, in my opinion, not only the hate crime that he committed but the domestic terrorism as well.

I have not seen where he has been charged with domestic terrorism.

To me that is odd because that is what he did.

He terrorized innocent people on American soil.

At a historic church no less and at a Bible study.

True peaceful human beings.

He sat with them for “close” to an hour, accounts vary on time but all say nearly an hour or more, then pulled out his gun and shot them. Reloaded and kept shooting.

Calculated, cold blooded murder.

I cannot imagine those in that room how they felt.

The terror. The confusion. The shock.

To be in a place of peace and be gunned down like an animal has got to be one of the worst feelings.

I know I cannot imagine nor would I disrespect those who have gone through this tragedy by trying to do so.

Losing you loved ones in front of you and having to play dead.

Thinking your loved one was just going to bible study and will be coming back home and they never make it.

I cannot fathom that kind of pain.

So to be told by the media that they were “working to report how we should feel in the wake of this shooting” is callous and disrespectful of the victims and their families.

It is disrespectful to the viewers.

Everyone reacts differently to situations.

Being told “how to feel” makes me feel very Orwellian.

And a bit creepy.

For me, my heart and prayers go out to the victims, their families and everyone dealing with this situation.

Also to the shooter’s family.

Again I can’t imagine it.

As to how I feel, I feel like I wish I could take away this pain, this hate, this obsession people have with harming others.

I don’t need the media to dissect my feeling or tell me how I should feel.

Believe me I feel.

Have a fabulous Tuesday my graceless friends!

“My mind is frozen and it got ice in it”


Lately I have been exhausted.

I mean it’s been crazy hectic and I am struggling to meet dates, deadlines, life lines and all kinds of things for people and myself.

Of course there is always conflict, I mean this is life so I expect a certain amount.

But sometimes I am just ready to scream and yell and basically have a tantrum like a toddler.

I am blessed to have wonderful friends and family to talk to, rant to, or just be there and say nothing but know they are there.

I am also blessed, lucky or whatever you want to call it to have my boy.

He makes me laugh and reminds me to be real without even realizing what he does.

I was asking him why he wasn’t paying attention to me, again, and reminded him of the consequences of his actions if he did not follow through on his promises and actions.

He turned to me so very serious and said, “Mommy, I’m sorry. I think my mind is frozen and it got ice in it. That’s why I wasn’t paying ‘tention to you and I’m sorry.”

He was so genuine and I tried to hold back my laughter at his very honest statement.

I got to thinking, maybe that’s what’s going on with myself and so many others.

Our brains get frozen and gets ice in it so we aren’t paying attention to what needs to be done.

I think I may be a tiny bit sleep deprived and have some discomfort (next week’s procedure can’t come soon enough I tell you – read “Mis-Procedure” if you really want to know what I am referring to) but I feel like my brain gets frozen and I can’t accomplish everything I need to because the ice sticks to it and I get zoned in on something so completely off track!

Wow!

I do sound like a crazy person… goooooo me!

I do think it’s true that out of the mouths of babes we hear the truth of things.

Kids do not hold back on how they feel and their opinions of life in general.

They do not judge unless you teach them to judge.

They just say whatever is on their mind.

We have to teach them how to filter it.

Since this has been an ongoing lesson in my household, filtering as well as discretion, the boy asked me if he said something wrong.

He knew I was amused by his response but he also knew he had not being doing as told.

I told him that I was proud of him for acknowledging that he wasn’t paying attention and that the way he said it was just funny to me because it was so very true.

He then said, “Lots of people walk around with frozen brains and their not even zombies! I don’t think their mommies tell them to pay attention enough and they can’t shake the ice out!”

At this I just began laughing hysterically.

He started giggling and then told me he was “on my side like nationwide. Cause you know, they’re on your side!”

And that is a perfect ending to a challenging day!

I hope you all have a fabulous Tuesday my friends!

Keep Hope Alive!

 

Quiet time, me time and missing the noise


I remember growing up we did not have all of the technology and all of the options we do today.

Yes my mom talked on the phone, but it was attached to a cord and plugged into the wall. If you wanted privacy, you went to another room or she told us kids to go outside or in our rooms.

Our rooms held our dearest treasures and outside held fun and adventures.

We lived on a cul-de-sac when I from the time I was 18 months old until I was 8. That would be the time when we acquired my younger brother!

We then moved to a newer subdivision from the time I was 8 until around 18 in which I met my best friend/sister and where the majority of my teenage years played out.

When my parents moved again, it was so my brother could go to a different school since I was graduating and he was about to go to high school.

No matter where we lived, we were required to “be creative” and let my parents have peace during the days of summer and school breaks.

We always did many things together as a family such as dinner each night, church on Sundays, vacations, family gatherings, parties – you get the idea.

But we also had “quiet times” and somehow I always treasured those times.

I don’t require “background” noise like a lot of people do.

And let me be clear, I do like to put on the radio or TV on occasion and have noise happening when I am alone, but I really do cherish quiet time. Nor am I a huge fan of TV every night.

I remember one of the first times when I was a teenager and my parents went away overnight and my younger brother went to my grandparents house.

My parents were trusting me to be an adult and not have a party or anyone over, plus there were plenty of people in the neighborhood that could “watch” our house and back then, there wasn’t all of the dangers we have today. No Facebook and smart phones to instantly update the world on your location and what you are doing. Not a lot of traffic in our area and less crime than there is now.

I did, of course, invite my best friend/sister across the street over for a little while but all we did was make a few calls to boys and watch the cable channels we normally were “limited” to watch.

Cable was the “new” thing as were microwaves! Yep, I am that old!

After she left I remember thinking “It is so Quiet.”

I could hear the house creaking and making noise, I could hear the dog outside but that was it. No TV, no one talking, walking around or making any noise.

It was Bliss!

I went up to my room and read and wrote in my journal.

I slept late because my parents weren’t coming home until later that day.

I enjoyed the peace and quite of a house alone for the first time in my life.

As the years moved forward and I grew up and moved out of my parents home, for the first time haha, I enjoyed having roommates but enjoyed the times when I was alone at home.

The quiet can be so peaceful!

I later married we and moved around a lot. Florida, Georgia, California and back to Georgia.

Many years later we divorced and at first I was living with friends, but I realized I wanted to get my “own” place.

I wanted the option of “quiet time” all the time because I had never had that.

So I got my own apartment and I reveled in being the only one who made noise, other than neighbors, which I had experienced before being an apartment dweller.

However, after a year-ish I realized I am a very social creature. I had already adopted two cats but I missed living with someone.

I set out to find a roommate. And I was “picky”! I wish I had the original ad I posted on “need a roommate” sites due to it’s “what I don’t want” content!

I finally found one person I felt “good” about meeting and happily she was the only person that came to “check out the place” and also became a friend for life!

She, like me, loved her quiet time but wanted someone semi-normal to live with. She had been in a bad relationship, moved in with family and now wanted to be free of the familial judgment and irritation that can come with it!

We both dated, but often joked we would probably end up being old lady roommates with cats and dogs when we moved into our 3rd residence together.

We had a house with a yard, cats, dogs and she was as OCD about cleaning as I was.

We both respected each other about our “quiet time” but would call each other out if we stayed on the couch for too long (like over a week and you aren’t dying from flu, allergies, stomach bug, surgery or anything else of the like) to touch base and generally keep each other sane.

After a few years  my gypsy spirit kicked in and I decided to move yet again.

This time my adventures led me to the state of Tennessee.

I had some wonderful roommates that I love dearly and are still wonderful friends with to this day.

I married again and had my miracle boy.

It was all so crazy and seem to happen so fast!

I had made peace, to a degree, that I wasn’t able to have children.

My friend, then later husband, and I talked about fertility treatments but honestly I wasn’t sure if I could afford the emotional blow it would cause if we paid out all that money and it didn’t work.

Then a miracle happened. I was pregnant.

We got married and I left my wonderful friends and moved in with him. It may not have been the smartest thing to do since we were such good friends but we thought we could pull it off.

I also knew my enjoyment of “quiet time” was about to be interrupted for a while!

I am not dumb but to my credit I was happy about the arrival of the human I was blessed to help create and carry. I was terrified and happier than I had ever been.

Anyone who has children know from the moment they are born your life of peace and quiet is shattered!

It is not all bad, but that is the truth!

If you’re lucky in the first year, you get “quiet time” when the kid is sleeping and the whole “you nap when they nap” actually happens sometimes because you’re dead on your feet from doing your “normal” chores and work, even if you aren’t caught up on everything you take a nap even if you aren’t a “nap person”! At least I did on occasion!

So “quiet time” shifted but I could still find it.

Life moved on and the boy grew and his dad and I realized that we didn’t need to be married. We had issues with living together and clashed on too many things. We tried counseling and we truly worked on trying to stay together but finally realized we couldn’t stay together “for the sake of the child” because we were both miserable.

So I moved again into my own place right down the road.

My father was going through cancer treatments again and I was a wreck from the emotional strains of worrying about my son, my father and the impending divorce.

I found more “quiet time” than I wanted as my son shares time with his father, which I am grateful for as often times kids get the raw end of the deal when parents are divorcing, but that first few months was Hard.

My “quiet time” was torture to think of all the things going on I had no control over and I miss my son like crazy when he’s gone.

I finally learned to accept his nights and weekends away and to enjoy the precious alone time I had.

During our divorce negotiations and mediation, we ending up deciding to move back to our home state of Alabama as both sets of parents lived here as well as extended family and friends.

It’s funny how you think you won’t move somewhere then you have a child and your whole perspective changes!

I didn’t have a lot of “quiet time” per se due to life and the happenings going on.

My friend whom I had lived with in Georgia, moved in with me to my townhouse after a failed relationship. We were happy to be together again but a bit sad of the circumstances that brought us together. She was great with my son and I once again had my friend with me.

Sadly, she passed away unexpectedly from a heart attack in her sleep.

I was heartbroken and so was Blake.

My aunt had also passed away a few months before and now my son was again losing someone he loved.

I feared there would be more to come but I had no idea how much more.

As I was packing up to move at the beginning of last year I got the call I had been dreading.

Although I had been going back and forth from TN to AL pretty much every weekend, my father had taken a turn for the worse. I threw my bags together and the boy and I set out for the motherland.

We arrived on Friday and my father passed away with our family by his side on Sunday.

I stayed on another week with my mom, family and friends. Funeral arrangements, plans and grief were the world I was in.

I have no idea how my mom made it through with the grace she did, but she is one of the strongest women I know and I have so much love, respect and admiration for her.

Her partner of 45 years had passed and she was hurting like never before, but also shared her journey with my brother and I and our family. It’s never easy when one of the rocks of a family dies, however having the love and support of your family and friends makes it bearable.

I am so blessed to have wonderful friends who while I was gone took care of my animals and also helped pack up my home.

I moved back “home” and in with my mom 2 days shy of one month after my father passed.

5 days after moving back, my beloved fur bebe golden retriever, Jethro a.k.a. Big Love, passed away. See, it did get a bit worse.

We were already grieving and now we grieved another.

Neither mom nor I were sure how things would work out.

I was over 40 with a 3 year old and living with my mom!

Fortunately I was able to transfer with my job and mom and I found out that we not only could live together but enjoyed it in a way we never had before.

We help each other out and one of the things we share is enjoying our “quiet time” or “me time” and help each other find it.

The boy loves living at GiGi’s house with mommy and we talk about Pops, my dad, too. It’s still “their” home but now it’s ours too.

We talk about heaven a lot with the boy because how else are you going to explain so many losses to a 3, now 4 year old? He has Great Wink, Aunt Bicky, Pops and Jethro having parties in heaven and I tend to enjoy his view on it as it eases my sadness to see the world through his eyes.

I know I am fortunate, blessed and pretty darn lucky.

It isn’t always easy but mom and I know we have each other.

Recently she went on a little vacation and the boy went on vacation at the same time.

I forgot about how much I Need and Cherish “quiet time” and me time.

It’s nice to wake up on your schedule, eat cereal for dinner if you want and not have to worry about anyone else.

But you know what? I miss them both! I can’t wait until everyone’s “Home” and the chaos and noise is again filling the house up.

Because as much as I love the quiet time, I miss my family! Noise and all!

Have a fabulously graceless Friday my friends!