Happy Mother’s Day

I know I interact with a lot of moms on here, so happy mothers day to each of you.

I’m sitting here at work, missing my mom. She wasn’t home when I tried to call her on my drive in, but you can bet I left an annoying message on her answering machine. Yes, my mother is a bit of a luddite, and uses an answering machine rather than voice mail. When I get her machine on her birthday, I sing to it. Very badly.

Enough about me, this is supposed to be about my mom.

I can’t find words to express just how fucking amazing my mom is. She pretty much raised us three kids single-handedly as my dad was sick for many years before he passed. She’s not my genetic mom, but you’d never know that by the way she acts and treats us all. My mom taught me to be strong, independent, and polite. She taught me that hard work won’t kill me, and that a clean house helps declutter my mind (although I didn’t turn out quite so OCD about it as she still is). She taught me to question everything, then gets annoyed with me when I question everything.

My mom is a classic case of “still waters run deep”. She isn’t prone to great displays of emotion; yet she feels things very deeply. She’s great at hiding her anger when that is an appropriate response. She’s doesn’t talk or laugh loudly in public. She doesn’t cry much in front of others. She is always gracious and polite, no matter how much she dislikes something or someone.

In spite of all that, if you know my mom, you know what is going on inside. There’s a certain look in her eyes when she’s raging; if the offense is a wrong against someone she loves, the entire world will know she is raging (most especially if it’s her kids being wronged). In the privacy of her own home, she doesn’t hesitate to raise her voice when her children need to be told to “get some act right”. Those of us who know her know when she’s laughing her ass off inside, and when she’s concentrating really hard on something (she has her tells, and I’ll never reveal them while she’s alive, she deserves some secrets). When she doesn’t like something or someone, those who know her can see the sharp points of the icicles hanging from her polite and gracious words.

My mom dealt with a lot when I was young: sick husband, full time job, three kids, a house and 10 acres of land, and my burgeoning addiction. She survived all of it; and somehow, nothing got neglected so that we survived all of it too.

The most amazing thing about my mom is that she never disowned me, no matter how bad the insanity of my addiction got. When I got clean, my mom was right there willing to let me build a new relationship with her. She has been a great help in my recovery, because she still won’t co-sign any of my horseshit; yet she also knows when I just need the comfort of mom for a moment and is always there with it.

My mom is a superhero, and I’ll kick your ass within an inch of its life if you dare to suggest otherwise. (I doubt any of you would, you’re all too kind for that sort of thing, which is why I love you.)

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Future plans

Mom gave me some little outdoor bistro chairs that have me making plans for an outdoor space off the bedroom of our little house.

She said she’d probably give me the matching table sometime in the not-so-distant future. I’m loving the patina on these  chairs, and they have me dreaming of a little patio with desert landscaping where Sunshine and I can sit and have coffee in the mornings.

Notes from the road: day 5

I’m home. Finally.  That was the road trip from hell. 15 hours in the truck going to mom’s and 16 hours coming home. Rain, road construction, traffic accidents….

you name it, I probably encountered it.

Including the surfeit of skunks I mowed down in Mt. Pleasant,  TX. And the road closure due to high water.

Side note: surfeit is what a group of skunks is called. Kind of like a gaggle of geese or a sounder of pigs. My personal hope was that it would be called a skank of skunks when I looked it up, but nope…a surfeit.

My journey home started with mom’s roomba (which slayed me😆)

and a truck full of household items from mom & my sister.

 

 

 

I drove through @Spann territory (Birmingham AL, for those not familiar with the weather guy who became famous for staying on air for 15 or so hours trying to bring Alabamans safely through the tornado outbreak that tried to wipe Tuscaloosa off the map)

I passed over many rivers on my journey home. Including,  but not limited to:

The Mississippi

The Ouachita
the Red

I’m so sick of being in my truck (that now reeks of skunk) that I could yarf.

Notes from the road: day 4

I’ve spent a couple of days in Georgia,  hanging out with family. I’m out of clean clothes that mom approves of, so it’s time to head home. 

I’m not heading home empty handed, either. My sister & her husband have been combining households, and a lot of stuff is finding new homes. I’ve got myself a comforter set, some patio chairs, lots of pillows and towels, flatware, and the dishes we used at my childhood home.

I’ve also got a full heart, because I finally have a decent relationship with the family I put through hell for all the years of my active addiction. That’s a precious gift.

I’ve had a great visit, but it’s time to go home. I miss my husband and my furbaby Mollie. Home is where the heart is, and mine lives in two states.

Notes from the road: day 2

I’m standing here in my mom’s kitchen drinking coffee.

Side note: why didn’t I stop for half&half on my way last night? 0% fat milk just isn’t working.

Mom’s house is peaceful, and filled with early morning light. This isn’t the house I grew up in, yet it still feels like that save haven we all know as home.

Today would have been my dad’s birthday if he hadn’t died when I was a few days from my 14th birthday. 

Daddy was a firefighter, and he loved the job.

We’re not going to dwell on the loss, though.  We’re going to focus on the fact that today is my sister’s wedding day! I’ll be spending my morning recovering from a road trip from hell, my lunch at a meeting, and my evening with family. 

Side note: today is going to be as exhausting as yesterday. I’ll pay for it tomorrow  for sure. I’m already operating at a spoon deficit and it’s not even 9AM eastern time

I’m already close to crying, so I’m off to eat my feelings now. They’re going to taste like cinnabon. 

Notes from the road: day 1

I didn’t make it 40 miles from the house before I had to stop for gas in the glamorous town of Paris TX.

Aren’t you impressed with all that glitz?

While I was paying for gas, I couldn’t resist the breakfast of champions.

That’s right. Metallica + Donut Sticks = the breakfast of champions. 

I passed through the megalopolis of Shreveport,  which is always so depressing. 

It was over fast.

Just east of Vicksburg,  I20 passes through a slightly primeval looking bit of forest.

It was over fast, too.

Then I found myself in the middle of the Talladega forest.

The roads were dry at that point, so it was over fast, too.

The Atlanta skyline and traffic always make my heart sing.

That wasn’t sarcasm. I may hate driving, but I come alive in Atlanta traffic.

Side note: hell, if I didn’t, I’d get killed dead as hell for sure. I learned to really drive in Atlanta traffic.

Entirely too many hours, cheetos, Donut Sticks,  & Starbucks doubles hots later, I’m at mom’s. Calling a cinnabon dinner. Because that’s how I adult.

Packing my bags

I’m spending the day getting ready to head out early tomorrow, before the ass-crack of dawn. I’m heading to Georgia,  the place where it all began for me.

Side note: according to “The Walking Dead”, it will also be the place where it all ends with a zombie apocalypse, but that’s irrelevant today since I’m currently still in Texas.

I’ve got my bags mostly packed with all of the things one needs for a road trip; like Little Debbie snacks, peach flavored sparkling water, and the card with my sister’s gift money in it. You know, the important shit. As I sit here typing this, I realize that I almost forgot to pack the expensive-ass outfit I had to buy for this evening wedding, because that’s what kind of idiot I am. I’ll be staying at mom’s for a few days after the wedding, so of course I already packed enough clothes and shoes for a month, because obviously. 

Side note: a huge shout-out and much love to Angie over at youlookfab [dot] com for helping me pick an outfit of pieces that I look forward to wearing in the future! She is amazing, as are all the people that participate in the discussions there

It’s always anxiety inducing to head back to the place from whence I came. There are so many memories, and so much wreckage. Families can be dicey in the best of circumstances; I’m sad to say that the first 35 years of my life were not the best of circumstances. Then there’s the anxiety involved with being away from home, and Sunshine, and Mollie. Who will cook chicken for Mollie even night? Who will pack Sunshine a lunch every morning? Who will wash dishes and do laundry and… I’m already exhausted just thinking about the backlog of housework that will be waiting for me when I return.

However,  my little sister is getting married, and I need to be there. No matter how awful, how insane I got during my active addiction, whenever I showed up at home for a visit my sister always showed up to see me. The least I can do is go to her wedding. Besides,  my sister is awesome and I want some cake.

Side note: I’m hoping that I don’t ever have to make good on my promise to hunt her groom down and make him regret it if he ever hurts my sister. Because that’s the sort of thing I don’t know if Sunshine would bail me out of jail for doing.

Since many miles of my drive (hell, whole fucking states) have no decent new-rock-type radio stations, I went to the pawn shops & the $5 bin at Walmart so I could go old-school on this trip–the CD player in my truck actually works, but I have so few CDS that I had to go buy a few. The playlist for this road trip includes lots of Metallica, Avenged Sevenfold, Chevelle, Nine Inch Nails, and a band out of Shreveport called The American Tragedy; and some Zucchero & Kenny Wayne Shepherd for when I need to lower my blood pressure after all that hard-driving music that helps me eat up the miles on I20.

I’ll be taking my tablet with me; and it has a data plan, so you’ll be getting my “notes from the road” while I’m gone, complete with pictures. Exciting, no?