Suddenly *Not So* Single Journey

Apparently it wasn’t a date…

Sunday, November 29th, 2009

As you know, I woke up at a time I am now referring to as 4ish on Friday morning in order to meet Kimberly and partake in that holiday ritual known as Black Friday Shopping.  She was a newbie, a Black Friday Virgin if you will.  And I broke her in but good!  Then I worked until 4:30pm.  And I was supposed to go on a date.

There may have been some break down in communication because I didn’t hear from HIM all day.  And I was beginning to think that it wasn’t going to happen.  He had read the ENTIRE blog which left me thinking he had ENTIRELY too much time on his hands and might know ENTIRELY too much about me.  And then I started picturing Misery because all too often my life imitates art and Laura had planted this horrible idea in my head…

Laura: So which serial killer are you going out with now?

Yeah, she has no love for Craigslist.  And it can be scary and dangerous, for sure.  I just would like to think I am a better judge of character…  Look at how well my relationships have turned out.  Mwah ha ha.

So, by 7pm, I had given up on the date and was ready to change into comfy clothes, curl up on the sofa, and read a book off my stack of unreads.  Sweet plan, huh?  Well, I received a text shortly thereafter.  And the meeting time was set, for the place I had previously suggested.  And it soon occurred to me that I either frequent entirely too many places with the word ‘tavern’ in them, or there are entirely too many establishments with the word ‘tavern’ in them.  Must be the latter.  I’m a nice girl.

Thus we met at City Tavern at 8pm because a girl needs a few minutes to get ready.  Natural beauty my butt.  And I met him outside.  He looked nothing like his picture.  (You’re shocked, right?)  He looked waaaay better in person.  Ha!

We walked in, were seated, and he began the conversation with:

Mystery Man: This isn’t at all what you think it is.

And that’s when the warning bells started going off in my head.  He then proceeded to compliment me.  (I love compliments, especially when they are genuine, but they still make me uncomfortable…)

MM: You have no idea what you have meant to my life.

And that’s when he announced that he had reconciled with his wife.  And while I was genuinely happy for him, I couldn’t help but wonder why I was there.  He quickly cleared that little mystery up.

MM: I wanted to meet you to tell you in person that I think you are amazing and what an impact you have had on me.

(Please note that these are not direct quotes.  For one thing, there was food involved and therefor the conversation didn’t get my full attention.  Plus, there was an even bigger distraction that prevented me from focusing.  You’ll see…)

As you may have guessed, first date pressure was alleviated the moment I discovered…I wasn’t actually on a date.  The worry that I might smile and reveal a hint of spring mix caught in my teeth…over.  The thought that I might laugh and have some foreign object shoot from my nose…never crossed my mind.  (Mostly because it’s never happened…)  And conversation was comfortable.  Okay, I did have one worry…

me: I was afraid that I wouldn’t live up to the hype.  Am I what you thought I was?

MM: It’s amazing!  You are exactly the same person as you are on the blog.

(Sorry for the letdown.  He’s right.  This is all me, people.)

And he went on to use words like amazing, incredible, intelligent, and beautiful…not necessarily in that order or that combination, but yes, they did all refer to me.  There were a lot of astonishing compliments in there.  His wife is a lucky woman.

After we ate and the plates were cleared, he became rather serious.

MM: I have something for you.  A gift.  And you can’t say no.

Hmmm.  I looked at him sideways, trying to figure out what to say.

me: Is this where the not-a-date gets uncomfortable?

And that’s when he pulled out the present and set it in front of me.  I was stunned, but as you might imagine, not speechless.

me: It’s a blue box.

I would recognize that signature box with it’s wide white satin ribbon anywhere.  J was good with Tiffany’s. After a few moments of me fondling it, he spoke.

MM: Open it.

I had to!  I had to know what was in there.  And I wasn’t disappointed.  After untying the ribbon, lifting the lid, and opening the pouch, a gorgeous heart necklace emerged.

MM: I wanted you to know how much you touch people’s lives, that you make a difference, that what you write matters.

(Again, not direct quotes.  Forgive me, I had a full belly and was holding sterling silver and stunned.  Oh, and this time, I’m pretty sure I was silent.)

We talked for a while longer.  And he showed me some pictures of his family.  And he was able to ask the burning questions he had after reading the blog…mostly about my relationships.  And he lamented that he didn’t have the kind of support I have in the form of my Bubble Family.  Not many people do.  I know how lucky I am.  And I don’t take them for granted…I don’t think.

We finally parted ways and he walked me back toward my car.  I had already missed a call from Spring and a text from Kimberly.  So, being a girl, you know what I HAD to do.  Of course I called them.  Kimberly, disappointingly enough, was already asleep at 10:30pm and couldn’t quite wrap her mind around what I was saying.  (Now, if I had a man like David to curl up with at the end of the day, I’d have been in bed, too!)  But Spring didn’t let me down.  She told me to come right over.  And naturally, I talked to Rachel and told her EVERYTHING on the drive.

me: Can you believe it?

Rachel: Yeah, Mom, I can.  Weird things happen to you all the time.

Okay.  I’ll give her that.  But Tiffany’s weird?

And as it turned out, I had a lot of explaining to do once I arrived at Jay and Spring’s.  Jay was pacing the living room, trying to lecture me while thinking I was turning into some greedy little gold digger.  So, I explained the situation.

me: He was just thanking me for inspiring him to change his life, reminding him of all the little joys and happiness life holds.

With that done, Jay did a complete 180, stopped pacing and sat down.

Jay: That’s beautiful, Nicki.  You help people.  You change lives.  None of us have done that.

me: You do that every day, just by being my friend.

Jay: No, you know what I mean.

But I don’t see the distinction.  I thrive on the love and support my friends and family provide.  I would be nothing without them inspiring me to be happy, to live the best and biggest life I can.  They are my blessings.

I predicted that November would be a big month.  And it has been.  I’ve been linked to and quoted.  I’ve won a contest on a blog…Single Mom Seeking.  I’ve tried my hand at dating.  (Apparently I’m much better at not-a-dating.)  And a man I’ve never met before was inspired to buy me Tiffany’s.  Wow.  I can’t wait to see what happens next.

Posted in Reflections | 13 Comments »

Oh glorious Black Friday…

Saturday, November 28th, 2009

I started my Black Friday at o’dark thirty.  Or, given the pre-shopping, the planning and preparing, pouring over fliers, one might say that I began my shopping at Kimberly’s house after leaving Jay and Spring’s about 7:30 Thanksgiving night.  And let’s face it, pre-shopping is key.

The best part…Kimberly had never been Black Friday shopping before.  She had yet to experience the thrill of success, the agony of defeat.  She had no idea what she was in for.  We studied the fliers and made our plan.  I had to be to work by 10am, she had to be in by 11am.  We were to meet *gulp* at 5am in the Bi-Lo parking lot where we would then pile into my vehicle to complete the shopping spree.

Well, Sophie was my first snafoo.  She didn’t want to get off me.  Ever since she’s become an only kitty-cow, she’s been the NEEDIEST little kitty EVER.  She didn’t want to get off me or have me stop petting her, and given the significant amount of alone time she’s had lately, I felt guilty…so I kept petting her.  (And my little cupboard under the bed was sooooo warm and snuggly…)

Needless to say, I was five minutes late.  Kimberly took it in stride, which is one of the many many many reasons I adore her.  We hit Target, managed to get a free reusable shopping bag, and found EVERYTHING on my list there.  I would go into details, but since the kids read the blog…

But Keenan, you should know that Kimberly bled so you could get your present.  Is she a team player or what?  And Rachel, we came really close to having to wrestle one of your presents away from someone.  I totally could have taken her, by the way.  And Kimberly bought…nothing.

Then we went to Kohl’s so she could buy something for Carrie.  Only they were out.  But I found two more items for the kids.  I can’t tell you what they were, but I’m bursting with pride because…I only spent $30 there and saved…$82.  That’s right, I’m a Super Shopper, I’m Shopper Extraordinaire.  They may hold a parade in my honor.  I will be revered by women everywhere.  It will almost make up for the fact that I’ll never get Mother of the Year.  *sigh*  Oh, and Kimberly?  She bought…nothing.

Then we went to Toys ‘R Us because there were things Kimberly had seen in the fliers and because I was determined she buy SOMETHING.  Let me just say, I had a blast there.  There were news crews there with one of those cameras just trained on the parking lot, watching the chaos that transpired.  I took my favorite Black Friday picture there…the big sign of no savings.  We weren’t there long, despite scouring the store.  And Kimberly bought…nothing.

I was beginning to think that if we hadn’t stopped at Chick-fil-A she wouldn’t have bought ANYTHING all day.  (For future reference, I tried something new…the chicken biscuit with egg and cheese, it is the way forward and I have renamed it ‘chicken two ways.’  I’m sure it will catch right on.)

Then we hit the mall, which is always a mixed bag.  There were people shopping in jammies, people who looked like they just rolled out of bed, people who looked like they woke up on the wrong side of the bed, people who looked like they just stepped out of the shower, people who smelled like they needed a shower.  I wouldn’t have missed it for ANYTHING.  Anything!

We went to a few stores for me, which shall remain nameless in order to preserve the magic that is Christmas.  Oh, and speaking about Christmas magic…at the Disney Store, the most magical store of all…Kimberly BOUGHT several somethings!  We stood in line for a long time and she sang to the carols.  It was cute.  And then we were looking around and I saw a man in line carrying a Disney shopping bag  wearing a scowl.  The bag said ‘Share the Magic.’

me: He doesn’t look like he’s sharing the magic.

Kimberly: Not at all!

Then we were being checked out by a girl who was singing loudly and enthusiasticly to the Nighmare Before Christmas song playing on the television behind her.  And I watched her in fascination.  She was singing and working, she disapeared below the counter for a bit to grab a bag and then bobbed up still singing, never missing a beat.  It was killing me not to burst out laughing.

Once we made it out of the store…

me: Now SHE was sharing the magic!

By then it was 8am.  We had exhausted all our shopping spots.  I dropped Kimberly back off at her car and was to my office by 8:30am.  And since I didn’t technically have to be in until 10am, I stopped and grabbed a hot chocolate at Starbucks.

It’s funny how little it takes for me to be happy and share the magic…a little quality time with friends, a little retail therapy, a little biscuit…(okay, the biscuit was bursting to capacity…tomato tomahtow), a little warm chocolate happiness in a cup… all the makings of a glorious day.

***Okay, now you really really really (that’s three reallys) have to come back tomorrow to read about my glorious Friday night where I went on the best not a date of my entire life.

Posted in Reflections | 1 Comment »

Introducing…Five Full Plates

Friday, November 27th, 2009

So, here I am, having just survived my Thanksgiving and Spring’s.  (She and Jay invited me over to their place for Thanksgiving Day since my kids are with their father in the mountains visiting his sister.  And yeah, I know I could have simply said they’d be away, but since I share like crazy, how much fun would that have been, hmmm?)  Thus, Rachel was breathing better and looking a whole lot less angst filled and guilt-ridden when I told her I would be with Spring on Thanksgiving.

Now, back to my point.  Well, I’m a foodie.  I LOVE food.  It means so much more to me than simply sustenance for life.  No, I like to eat.  I love the way food tastes.  I love the way a moderately full belly feels.  (I’m not an over-stuffer.)  I like the way eating good food makes me feel.  That is why it is easy for me to walk away from a lot of food.  Most of the time I would rather starve than ingest say…Jack in the Box, which I don’t trust at all because they serve EVERYTHING.  (How do you trust a place that has no sense of identity, that is so determined to meet every food craving that they serve Mexican, Chinese, and American cuisine all on the same menu?  I don’t.)

With that being said, I was once one of those chicks everyone hated because she could eat whatever she wanted and never gain an ounce.  Note the operative word being: once.  Now, post pregnancies, food laughs at me, taunts me, and loves me soooo much that it stays with me…mostly on my belly, butt, thighs.  I’m not fat, by any stretch of the imagination, unless you put me beside a waif-thin super model.  And why would anyone do that to me?  I’m mostly nice.  I’m reasonably comfortable with where I am, but there’s room for improvement.  And now, since I’m dating again…it’s time for me to get serious about such an improvement.

Please note, this is about me, not him, whoever he turns out to be.  This is about me not being self-conscious about my body.  I’m…vertically challenged.  There’s no way I can comfortably hold my legs so that my thigh doesn’t flatten out on seats.  Half the time I look like Lily Tomlin, feet dangling.  So, I want to get to a place where I’m comfortable with me, where I don’t worry about rolls or thigh seepage or butt bulge.  Make sense?

With all that in mind, I read Mir on Friday.  She and four friends have put together a website with a diet challenge that will last ten weeks and officially begin on January 1st.  The site?  Five Full Plates.  It works on so many levels.  Each of them is a busy woman…see, full plate?  And each of them feels the need to lose a few pounds.  (Their goal is ten pounds each in ten weeks.  Mine…is a bit more.)  And I’ve decided to join them, not in the sense that they’ve invited me to blog alongside them, adding my brand of wit and humor to the site, but in more of a commenting and keeping myself in check kind of way.

Check out the site.  It’s already up and running.  They are all taking turns posting.  They are honest and funny.  They are realistic and sarcastic.  They are…my heroes.  And now that I have this major food holiday out of the way, I can concentrate my efforts on weight loss or not over indulging for now.  My big fear…the next few weeks of patients bringing us food.  (One year a woman brought us each a HUGE tray of cookies.  Danger!)  I have a weakness for home baked goodies.   So, I’m going to have to be SUPER careful.

Wish me well.

Posted in Reflections | 5 Comments »

Last Thanksgiving…

Thursday, November 26th, 2009

Last year was my first Thanksgiving without the kids.  And if that wasn’t challenging enough, Sam was working through the holiday…he announced last minute.  And I was really struggling, so I did something I needed to do, I flew home.  No matter where you live, wherever you grew up is home.

So, I left work early and flew to the  Adirondacks.  It wasn’t dull.  I had a flurry of texts from friends and co-workers to keep me occupied.

Spring: So, did you get a window seat or an aisle?

me: Both.  I’ve been in closets bigger than this plane.

(It really did make me a bit nervous even though I am a seasoned traveler.)

And between my nerves and the Indian behind me who REEKED of cumin, I was more than a little unsettled and nauseous.  But after a slight delay, I landed in Burlington, Vermont around 11:30pm.  And I was greeted by my mom and my sister and her two kids: Kayleigh, then thirteen, and Rhylee, four.

Her girls are the polar opposite of my kids in looks, all blond hair and blue eyes, fairer complexions.  And though Rhylee couldn’t remember me, since the last time I saw her was a good two and a half years before, by breakfast she came to me with an announcement.

Rhylee: Aunt Nicki.

me: Yes, Rhylee.

Rhylee: I love you!

me: I love you, too.

So, wherever I was, Rhylee was close beside, behind, or on me.  Some people would have found it annoying, but it was precisely what I needed.  And Kayleigh still loved me, so I was VERY popular.

Dinner was at my mother’s apartment.  (And I love my mother’s apartment.)  The building once housed a school, but has since been converted.  The ceilings are high with fantastic architectural details.  And the windows are huge, making the place seem warm and light filled.  And she has this wonderful open living space with an island kitchen, beautiful dark cherry cabinets and granite counters.  Lovely.  I’m a kitchen person.  Mostly because I’m a food person.  (See how they go together…)

After we ate, we went down to the rec room, which she had signed out for just us.  So there was pool, where Allison’s husband, Greg, kicked my butt.  And there was Foosball.  And there was ping pong.  And there was Rhylee mostly on the floor because she fell or flung herself there in a pout.  The rec room was not built for four year olds and as much as we tried to include her, the options were limited.

But the experience did result in a number of really great Rhylee tales and Rhylee-isms.  Like the now famous…

You never let me do anything.  ANYTHING.

or…

I’m telling!

I know most kids go through that stage.  Mine didn’t.  They had no one to tell but me.  I guess that’s why I think it is so cute coming from someone else’s kid.

And I did my first Black Friday shopping last year.  I know.  How did I mange to go all this time without going?  Just lucky, I guess.  Now, I’m hooked.  The bargains!  The freebies!  The chance to get most of my shopping done in one foul swoop with a little sleep deprivation, a whole lot of patience, and some organization.  Oh, and the people watching is PHENOMENAL.  (Let that be a little incentive to you.)

The best part of being home, besides the family part, was getting to enjoy the things I was missing.  (And you know that meant restaurants.)  I had McSweeney’s for lunch after shopping with my mom, my sister, Kayleigh, and my Auntie Shirl.  And I had to eat Barn Bread from Pizza Barn.  (Yes, it really was a barn.  And I can TOTALLY get past that since the food is so stinkin’ good.)

Aside from the food and the shopping, there were some family highlights.  (Kayleigh was fun and a big help.  I kept making her try things on before selecting for Rachel.)   I loved snuggling up on the couch with Rhylee watching 27 Dresses with the rest of the family.

Going home was bittersweet.  I was looking forward to a night alone with Sam before the kids came home.  That didn’t exactly work out as planned.  Long story that I really don’t want to dwell on.  And it was difficult leaving everyone behind again.  (Although the cold was a pleasant reminder of why I am now a southern girl.)

I did learn a valuable lesson.  Don’t look angry in the airport first thing in the morning.  I was pulled for the old pat down around 5:30am.  And that woman was really focused on my…assets.

me: You know, I usually get dinner first.

She smirked and let me go after that comment.  Sorry.  I couldn’t help myself.

I can’t go home this year.  It’s not because I don’t want to, but let’s face it, money had been a bit of an issue.  And even if I had taken the offers of an airline ticket, I would still have lost income from the missed days of work.  Right now, that isn’t an option.

So, while I can’t be with my family, I’ll be with my Bubble family…and their family.  And for that, I’m thankful.  I have so much to be thankful for these days that I practically glow just thinking about it.  I’m so blessed.  And I don’t take any of it for granted.

Posted in Reflections | 4 Comments »

Because everyone keeps asking…

Wednesday, November 25th, 2009

No, I haven’t heard from Sam.  And I don’t expect to.  Or, should I say, I hope not to.

And I know why everyone asks.  They ask because in the history of our relationship, this is the longest he’s gone without contacting me.  Of course, this time is different…in every respect.  This time, we’re through.  And if me saying it doesn’t clear that up,  let me also remind you…there’s M, his not-so-new girlfriend.  (Okay, parts of her are newer than others.)  Sam used to tell me that while I wasn’t really a bitch, I could be in my own special way.  Do you suppose that’s what he meant?  Mwah ha ha.

In the past, he could never go longer than a week, ten days max before there would be some contrived reason, some moderately plausible excuse for him to call or text.  I’ve taken away all of his reasons and all of his excuses.  And this is how…

See, I didn’t mention before, but I saw him the Thursday after I moved out.  Rachel was heading back to school that day and when I did the key check, we discovered she still had Sam’s key on her key chain.  So, I decided to drop it off while I picked up my plants and the toy chest from the back yard.  I hoped desperately that he would be gone and that Ed would be about.

It’s quite possibly the first time Ed has let me down.  Oh, but Bishop was out.  And he was beyond happy to see me.  He did the run through my legs thing he always did, which by now nearly bowled me over since he had to duck to make it through.  Yes, he’s that tall.  And yes, I’m that short.    And soon, I saw that Sam was up, as evidence by the garage door being up.  And I couldn’t very well just go traipsing through the back yard…so, I knocked on the door.

He answered, but was on the phone.  I handed him the key.

Sam: Thanks.

me: Can I get my stuff from the back yard?

Sam: Sure.

And I knew he wanted to speak to me, but I had nothing to say, so I turned on my heels and headed around to the back of the house.  I dragged the palm tree out to the car first, water dripping down my leg, me caring less about that and more about getting the heck out of there before Sam came out.  I know him.  And I knew he would.  Sure enough, by the time I was coming back with the toy chest, which had sufficiently moistened the rest of me, he was coming to the car, coming to my aid, as it were.

Once everything was loaded, he wanted to get playful, bumping me, poking me, but I wasn’t having it.

me: What are you doing?

Sam: I’m happy to see you.  I haven’t seen you in so long.

He had seen me Saturday, not even five days before, when he helped move me.

me: Well, get used to it.  Did you not believe me?

He looked crestfallen.  He was suddenly quiet, his hands in his pockets.

Sam: No, I believed you.

me: Good.  Now we need to talk about the grill because I never want to come back here again.

He stared at me a minute like I had punched him in the gut or knocked the air from his lungs.

Sam: I’ll drop it off at your apartment.

me: I don’t want you at my apartment.  Why don’t you leave it at the house?

Sam: It was expensive.  I don’t want it stolen.

me: Then leave it in the house.

I watched Bisphop frolick outside for a few moments before walking away.  I never even said goodbye.  I had said it so many other times it seemed like overkill or pointless or even redundant.  And I drove away.

I saw Laura a week later.  She came over.  And she told me that Sam was missing me, not that he had said it outright, but she picked up on it from other things he said and did.  She was testing me for a reaction.  I had been so weak in the past and I always believed it would work out between us.  Now, however, I realize that some things just shouldn’t be, aren’t meant to be.  Sam and me, we’re one of those things.

And after my Thanksgiving on Sunday, I ended up at Jay and Spring’s.  Laura ended up there for a bit, too.

Laura: You are so much better now.  You are more relaxed, happier.  I can see it in your face, your actions.

me: I am better.  I am happier.  I don’t cry anymore.  I’m me again.  And the kids have noticed.  Rachel told me she hoped Sam was sad and missed us a lot.  I told her I hoped he was happy.

Laura looked shocked.

me: I mean it.  I hope he’s happy.  When he gets sad he remembers how good I was to him, how I made him happy, how I took such good care of him and made everything better, he contacts me.  I don’t want to hear from him ever again.  I hope he’s happy.  He’ll leave me alone.

Laura: I think he’s finally getting it.  Everyone keeps telling him to leave you alone, let you have a life, let you be happy.

So, you can stop asking.  I haven’t heard from Sam.  I don’t expect to.  I don’t want to.  And the farther I am from him, the happier I seem to be.  It’s about time.

Posted in Just Sharing, Reflections | 3 Comments »

Great. I live in Joe’s Apartment…

Tuesday, November 24th, 2009

So, when we were looking at the apartment, I recall the woman showing us the place glossing over a few of the perks.  And one of them was something about spraying for bugs every Friday.  I have lived in the south for roughly eight years now…as of next month.  And in all that time, I have never had to spray for bugs.  Therefor, I didn’t really pay attention or think a thing of her comment.

Then, after we had lived in the place for a few days, I would periodically see a baby Palmetto bug.  (In the south, we like to dress up everything and make it seem prettier than it is…so Palmetto bug is southern speak for GINORMOUS cockroach.  Doesn’t seem so pretty now, does it?)  Well, I chalked the first bug up to the move and the doors being open so long.  And the second I chalked up to moving the plants and the doors being open so long.  But you can only live in denial for SO LONG.

There were other signs.  Rachel made a comment the other evening about the pet in the shower being named Fred.  And I thought it was just another naming and didn’t ask who Fred was.  Yeah, I don’t always want to know.  Then there were a few shall we say…reddish brown smudges that I found on the outside of the shower.  I just cleaned them up without asking.  I had other things on my mind.

Well, then I saw one walking around the kitchen while I had the pineapple upside down cake on the counter…and I promptly deposited the cake in the garbage can.  What a waste of all that sticky sweet goodness.  Damn it.  So, Thursday, I called and asked to be put on the spray list.

I returned home from work on Friday and Rachel handed me the card she had found on the counter.  It was from the bug guys…exterminators.  And the card read…

“Sorry we missed you.  We sprayed 11/20/2005.”

And we joked about it.

me: I hope that they just wrote the year down wrong.

Rachel: Yeah, or I’m wondering how often they think they need to spray.  What, four years ago was enough?

And we laughed it off.

Until later that evening when I was peeling apples and chasing bugs around the kitchen.  The first bug was on the counter and given that I didn’t want to stop what I was doing, I grabbed the tea pot, still partially full of water, and dropped it on the the ugly nuisance.  And I was so distracted with Thanksgiving preparations that I missed that satisfying crunch.

Rachel came into the kitchen and started to move the tea pot.

me: I wouldn’t do that…

Rachel: Why?

me: Roach.

And she backed away from the tea pot.  She turned just in time to see a bug on the wall scurrying behind the organizer.  I was about fit to be tied.

me: I’m beginning to think they really did spray four years ago and we missed it.

Well, the little creepy undeterred harbingers of doom hid for the rest of the night, giving me a sense of false hope. The next afternoon I started cooking once more.  And I made the mistake of unplugging some things from behind the organizer to plug in the beater.  Big mistake.  The minute I moved the plugs, antennae peeked out of the hole.

What was I to do?  I sighed and plugged the holes up once more and backed slowly away.  No need to disturb the wildlife.  I hoped beyond anything that somehow all the ruckus of having extra people would scare them, leave them hiding in their respective outlets and other hidey holes.  Alas, that was not the case.

And soon we discovered it wasn’t so much the knowing where there were that bothered us, it was the moment that they disappeared and left us wondering that we really had to tamp down the panic.  My Bubble family took it in stride.

Spring: We just killed two.

Hmm.  With one blow?

Laura: Don’t worry we know it’s not you.  You keep the place clean.

Ed: I have spray for this.

(And he has the license to go with it!  Yay, Ed!)

So, I’m going to have them spray again on Friday.  And every Friday thereafter until I manage to beat them back into submission.  Living in Joe’s apartment wasn’t even cool on television, no matter how much MTV tried to make it seem that way.

Posted in Reflections | 9 Comments »

And the bellies were happy…

Monday, November 23rd, 2009

Well, our Thanksgiving morning was dark and ugly, which was rather perfect.  I had been warned previously that Ed was planning on working unless weather prevented it.

me: Yes! We get Ed.

(Admittedly, I didn’t do that happy dance until much later in the day.)  In all honesty, I kind of rolled out of bed, not a big drop since I’m already on the floor.  And then I headed out to the kitchen and forced my eyes open wide enough to work with knives.  Yup, I had to mince celery and onions for stuffing.

Soon, Rachel came out and kept me company while I worked.  And there was the little meltdown I had when I discussed the distinct possibility of me winding up in an early grave if things continued the way they were.  So, yeah, other than that all was running smoothly.  There was the occasional snafoo, like the realization that I had to run out and purchase a casserole dish if I was going to make everything on the menu.  (No straying from the plan no matter how spontaneous I am…)

Noon found me at Target.  I had my second loaf of bread baking in the bread machine and the bird was roasting nicely.  The only things left to do: make the sour cream mashed potatoes, throw a broccoli casserole in the oven, and try not to ruin the gravy.  So, I had the casserole dish in hand, and some disposable plates for dessert…

Target employee: Are you all ready for Thanksgiving?

And I know they are just supposed to be making conversation, but she asked.

me: I’d better be.  We’re having it today.

Target employee: What time?

me: One.

And I saw her glance conspicuously at the clock.  And then back at me.  She studied me a moment, marveling at my calm exterior.  And I laughed.

What did I have to be stressed about?  I know my Bubble family.  They would show up a little later than anticipated.  They would laugh and joke with me, not mind one bit if I was running a few minutes past schedule.  And there’s a lot of comfort in that…knowing there’s no pressure.  Ahhh.

Soon I returned to the apartment where I pulled the bird out of the oven.  Rachel and I joked over the miracle that is a Butterball turkey.

me: So, do you think they feed them buttered grain from birth?

Rachel made some muttered response while filling her mouth with strips of stolen poultry.

Then everyone arrived.  The teens sat at the counter.  The four youngest had the table.  And the adults gathered around the coffee table and the football.  Ed and Jay rigged the television while we finished the meal preparations.  Everyone has a role.

It’s a different Thanksgiving from last year.  It keeps getting bigger.  More people.  More love. More food.  More joy.  More happiness.

And after the clean up was completed from the meal, there was dessert.  It was perfect.  Three kinds of pie.  Spray whip cream.  All served on disposable plates.  Yay!

As they were leaving, Laura and I had a moment.

Laura: I don’t know what you were worried about.  You could have fit six more people in here.

And I laughed.  It seemed plenty crowded.

me: Nope.  I used every last plate that I had. It’s a good thing you stopped with Bailey.  I couldn’t have fed one more person.

I literally had eleven plates.

According to my friends, the applesauce was a hit.  And so was the stuffing.  And the broccoli casserole.  And pretty much everything. Yay!  (The electric oven is really giving me fits.  I’m used to cooking with gas.)

For those of you who need help with an easy dessert for your big day…here’s the recipe for Chocolate Pie that I’ve been using for YEARS.

Chocolate Pie

*graham cracker crust

*Jell-o cook chocolate pudding (large box)

*2 1/2 c. milk

*1/2 c. semi-sweet chocolate morsels

In a saucepan, add milk, pudding, and morsels.  Cook over medium heat stirring CONSTANTLY until bubbly.  Pour into pie shell.

That’s it.  Really.  Okay, I garnish with Redi-whip.  There.

Enjoy!

Oh, may your table be filled with friends and family.  May your hearts be filled with love.  And may your bellies be happy.

Posted in Reflections, recipes | 18 Comments »

Ahhh, the fruit of my womb…

Sunday, November 22nd, 2009

Every once in a while one of the kids will make a comment about how they don’t look like me, and am I POSITIVE they were not switched at birth.  (Hmmm.  Maybe they are secretly hoping there’s a better life for them out there…)  Sorry kids, hate to burst that bubble, you’re all mine.  And if there was ever any doubt, let this example lay it to rest.

Case in point: Friday night.  We’re driving to the movies.  When I have them for the weekend, I like to give Fun Dad a run for his money.  So, we went to a late movie... Julie and Julia . Anything that doesn’t start until almost ten is a hit.  And here’s how the car conversation went…

Rachel: By the way, you spelled Shaun’s name wrong.

me: How do you know?

Rachel: I saw it on his name tag.

Keenan: You know, Daniel Craig makes a terrible James Bond.

Rachel: What?

me: I know exactly how we got here.

Rachel: Huh?

me: Right now you are thinking that’s a random comment.  It’s not.

And so she stares at me while I try to explain.

me: We’re talking about Shaun.  He starts thinking Sean Connery.  Sean Connery played James Bond, one of his favorites.  Now he’s thinking about James Bond and there we are with Daniel Craig.

Rachel: Wow.

me: I know.

I had other examples to incorporate into this post, but at the moment a new discussion rages on and the kids are fluctuating from bickering to bantering as quickly as I blink.  And while I’m trying to ignore, to focus on this, the reality is that they are funny.  And I love being in the middle of it.  I get hauled in so easily…

me: What is going on?

Rachel is lying on the bed impatiently eating ice cream while waiting for me to finish so we can watch yet another movie we rented from the Red Box.

Rachel: You have to know what he did.

And Keenan walks into the room eating ice cream…with the poop spoon.  So, I know EXACTLY what transpired.

Rachel: He grabbed the last spoon!

me: Keenan… (and I don’t know how to break it to him, so I try the delicate approach)…that’s the cleaning spoon.

Rachel: She uses it on the carpet to clean cat puke!

me: Among other things…

Rachel: …like poop!  You’re eating off the poop spoon!

me: Now, it keeps going through the dishwasher…(but I can’t get past the stigma attached to it)

Keenan: I don’t care!

And he continues to eat.

Rachel is laughing uproariously at this point while trying to eat ice cream with a fork.  (See, the dishwasher is still running…)

Rachel: He stole the last spoon, but karma made it all better.

And we’re playing and we’re laughing.  And the kids are both in the bedroom with me while I write.  And though I value my rare and precious moments of solitude, I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Posted in Reflections | 4 Comments »

I may have to cancel Thanksgiving…

Saturday, November 21st, 2009

I’ve spent the past week making lists, long lists.  And while I tried to accomplish these lists I made numerous trips to the grocery store, because it would be too simple if I managed to find everything in one trip.  Food Lion didn’t have any Butterball birds and I tried one time to not use a Butterball…lesson learned.  And the Harris Teeter at Quail Corners didn’t have any bread machine mixes.  And the  third time finally was the charm…or so I thought.

Along with the lengthy grocery lists is the menu…the two do rather go hand in hand.  How else was I supposed to remember all the ingredients?  And with the menu and grocery list…The Plan.  And it was a good plan.  Wasn’t it only yesterday that I said something in the blog about no matter how well I planned it didn’t necessarily mean it was going to turn out right.  Yup, that was most definitely me.

And as living proof…Thursday night was supposed to be cut the bread for the stuffing and make applesauce night.  It said it right on the note.  And the guy was coming to install the DSL because I can only handle going to the library every day and working around their schedule for so long.  (It’s been nearly three weeks, but who’s counting?)  Well, the DSL was installed and the man said some stuff and handed me some papers as he was leaving.  It was all very vague.  And I wasn’t really thinking or paying attention because I was eating.  (Cut me some slack!)

So half an hour after he’s gone, I decide to work on my post.  (I’ll let you in on a little secret.  Lean in…closer…okay…I write the posts the night before and merely publish them in the morning.  Shhhh!  Now don’t make me have to pull out the pinky swears!)  That’s when I realize that we have internet on the desktop but that without the router installed, I still have no internet on the laptop.  I was paralyzed.  *gasp*

Well, I like to think of myself as handy so I found the router.  I knew it was somewhere and the apartment only has so many hiding spots so…it was in the girl closet which made sense because the computers were in the girl bedroom.  Anyway, electrical genius extraordinaire that I am…I decided to hook it up.  I tried three different ways.  Still nothing.  So, now I’m paying for DSL and still don’t have it.  But wait…there’s more.

We went to the library and I had a great time, checked out a few books that I don’t have time to read, but might while the kids are away, finished the post, etc.  We came home happy.  And I revised The Plan because I’m all spontaneous now that I’m a single mom.  Suddenly I can fly by the seat of my pants and all that jazz.  New plan: make applesauce and slice bread Friday night.  Do the rest of the prep on Saturday around our other excursions.  And Sunday…we feast.  Good plan, huh?

Well, let me tell you about Friday night.  I decided that I wasn’t cooking dinner since I didn’t want another mess to clean while I had cooking to do.  And so we picked up subs at the Harris Teeter Jay and Spring work at in Old Town Center.  (Did I not warn you previously that there are at least a dozen Teeters within a five mile radius of me?  And you thought I was exaggerating.  Ha!)  And it was $3.99 foot long sub night…which means dinner and lunch for us….yay!  And a friend was working the deli and hooked us up.  Double yay!  And the Ben and Jerry’s was on sale.  I’m practically breathless with excitement.  That’s about where I peaked.

Because after dinner…I sliced the bread and made the applesauce.  You should know that I make applesauce now roughly once a year.  When I lived in New York, my aunt worked at an orchard and would get us crates of apples and we would make a TON of applesauce.  (And apple pies and apple tarts and baked apples….you get the idea.)  So, I am no stranger to apples or making sauce.  I can’t count the number of times I’ve done it.  And since it is a dying art around here, I’m kinda known for my homemade apple sauce.

Well, the apples here are roughly $4 a bag and I use two bags.  And I spend about an hour or so peeling, coring, and paring the apples, which leaves my hands all sticky and gnarled.  Then I set the pan on the stove with the appropriate amount of water, cinnamon, and sugar.  I could just about do it with my eyes closed.  Or so I thought.

Tonight…I burned the applesauce.  And when you burn the sauce, there’s no salvaging it.  The burn taste seeps through ruining the entire pot.  It looks good, but leaves a horrible aftertaste.  I’m sure there’s some parallel to my life in there, but I don’t want to get too philosophical while I’m pondering how I maybe should cancel Thanksgiving before I do any more damage.

Yeah, I know I have time to make more.  And I have enough money to make more.  And I even have the energy to make more…I think.  (Okay, now I’m going to get philosophical.)  I could be wrong, but I may have just been bitch slapped by the universe.  Maybe this was the way I’m being told not to get too cocky and self-assured.  Just because I’m finally happy doesn’t mean that I can stop paying attention.  I guess I don’t get to sit back on my laurels just yet.  (And I’m not even sure what laurels are, but if they are as cushiony as my butt, I look forward to sitting on them.)  In the meantime, I have some holidays to celebrate, some traditions to create , some memories to record, some love to share.  And if I don’t pay attention, I may just mess it all up.

I’m listening, mighty smiter.  You have my attention.  And I’ll get some more apples.  I’ll take my do-over.  The feast will go on.   There will be friends to share it with.  There will be laughing and smiling.  (I plan on doing A LOT of it.)  There will be full bellies and warm hugs.  There will be a Butterball bird and homemade gravy (with a couple of emergency jars in the pantry in case I blow that, too…)  There will be bread from the bread machine…two kinds.  And there will be homemade cinnamon applesauce.

Posted in Reflections | 5 Comments »