Thursday, September 29, 2011

My Brain at 3:00 AM

Why is it that when the phone rings in the middle of the night, your heart starts pounding and you can't stop thinking horrible thoughts and then you never go back to sleep...and then you do fall back asleep and you dream about something disturbing and you wake back up and then you fall back asleep and then the alarm clock starts ringing and you hate life???


Bad days follow bad nights. Because you are sleepy. Over nothing horrible.

Would this happen if I had not become a mother? Because I always think, at 3:00 AM, when the phone rings and scares me out of a deep sleep, that it is bad news about my children - or a family member. But mostly my children.

And why is it that everything seems like a big deal at 3:00 AM? Do you ever toss and turn all night, obsessing over some matter that popped into your sleep deprived brain, only to laugh at it in the light of day?

What if Michael chokes on a hard taco shell? What if he drops out of school, grows facial hair and joins the circus?

 What if Carol Anne is attacked by a chicken? And contracts bird flu?

What if Rob has a sun stroke, while tossing a mullet and continues to dress like this, ON PURPOSE, for the rest of his life? What if he actually likes tossing mullet???

What if, on a beautiful sunny day, we are on the beach, and decide to bury Martha, up to her head, in the sand? And, what if, to be funny, we put a bucket on her head?

What if we forgot her? What if we left her there...


Martha, where are you??

I hate when the phone rings in the middle of the night.

Don't you?


PS Tomorrow is both my favorite day and my least favorite day of the year...stay tuned!

Saturday, September 24, 2011

Road Trip

We had to make an unscheduled, last minute trip to the HOMETOWN this weekend. It was a 400 mile, drive in, drive out, whirlwind visit, for the sad occasion of a funeral for a dear friend. There is no excuse for the whining that will follow in this blog. We are honored to have known our friend, happy to have been there to support his family and grateful to have the opportunity to celebrate his life. It was a  "no-brainer". But, in an effort to find humor in the every day grind, I made a few observations and collected this muse for my friends...

Before we left and short on time, I grabbed my "marrying and burying" dress and my "car clothes" (aka stretchy pants, t-shirt, flip-flops). Michael had his movies. Mike had stuff, too. But none of it is interesting. Well, he had sunflower seeds. And skittles - we all have our priorities.

Before I go any further, I have a short story to tell.

Once upon a time, Rob (AKA one of the "big kids") is 10 years old. The two of us (as in, me and him) are driving from Charlotte to Gastonia in the early evening. We are taking the back roads - a short cut along the periphery of the Charlotte-Douglas International Airport. When I say "periphery", I mean that we are so close to the runways, that the only thing that separates this back road from the tarmac is a high chain link fence. Suddenly, I look up because there are headlights, in the sky, coming directly at us.

Me (frantic, panicked voice): "Oh, my gosh! What the heck! Is that a plane?"

I was putting on the breaks at this point....preparing for impact.

Rob (dead pan): "No, Mom, it's a flying car." (Geez. Seriously?)

Hysterical laughter.

More laughter.

 I smell a whiff of disbelief coming from my 10 year old son because his mother actually thought it could be something else and NOT a plane? It was in the sky!

We recall this story occasionally. It is hard to forget the day your mother thought cars could fly.

Back to the road trip. This weekend, 2011.

Mike is driving. I am delirious (slightly nauseous) from listening to the satellite radio E Street station for 3 hours straight. Michael is eating another bag of Skittles. We are on the home stretch. Literally. I look up AND...

I see a flying car!!!

OK. So maybe this isn't funny to you. But it was a memory moment for me. And quite honestly, I don't live near an international airport any more and there were probably 4 more of these things clustered together above my head with their headlights blazing and I was "country come to city" amazed!
Anyway, I got to see my mama. This matters to me.

Before I leave for the funeral, I am thinking about how much I love her. She is 80 years old. 

Me (sly as a fox): Lets take a picture. You know...for the fun of it?

Mama (innocent as a lamb): OK

Me (knowing I will blog this): Say cheese!

Mama (in her usual photo-phobic manner): CHEESE.

 She wanted to take another picture without her glasses. And she promised she wouldn't actually say the word CHEESE. But she did. So, I am using this one. I like it best. With her glasses.

And right after the picture, she went and got a Boost dietary supplement and drank it right before my eyes. To prove to me that she eats and takes care of herself. She better....

As the time line progresses, we attend funeral. My eyes hurt from crying. We come back to the house of my mama. We collect Michael. We change into car clothes. We procure caffeine. We dial into XM radio. We begin the journey home.

I am forever grateful, that while raising a child at age 49, there exists a car DVD player with headset.