My brother’s wedding

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I feel like I travelled around the whole world in one week. Technically, I could say that I went from the southern end of our country to the far northern end this week. I am exhausted and feel a cold coming on. 

When I said that I live in rural WI, my brother Mark lives in extreme remote rural WI. An area so remote that sometimes no service appeared on our cell phones, gas stations were at times hard to come by, and the largest of towns consisted of a bar, a church, and 2 houses. A majority of people at the wedding never thought that Mark would marry. He lived as a hermit in this remote area for a long time. But just like the seasons change, sometimes our lives takes us on unexpected paths. 

Yesterday was a perfect day for a wedding. It went without a hitch, figuratively anyway. It was an unseasonably warm day. The leaves were starting to change color. My daughter sang a solo for the wedding. My son was an usher. Mark and Carla did not have any attendants. They just got engaged 4 months ago. Mark took Carla out on the lake, pulled out a ring, and dropped it in the water seemingly accidental. He made it seem like the plan was foiled, then pulled out the real ring. They had a small wedding. Carla bought her wedding dress from Goodwill for $25. It was beautiful. I am glad she is tight with money because Mark sure is. 

The reception was at a saloon. They had a bonfire and their DJ also served as their photographer. I have never seen my brother so happy, or dressed up for that matter. We had a great time and are very happy for them. This morning they drove off in their Jaguar for their honeymoon. I am excited to see what the future holds for them.  

Texas 

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Wow, it’s been awhile. I left off at Texas, right? We got home last night at 10. I was thinking about getting arrested so I could prolong my stay in the warmth and sunshine. However, I don’t think that incarceration would be an acceptable reason to miss my brother’s wedding. Seriously though, I’ve never even gotten a speeding ticket. Not for lack of trying though. Lol

Saturday morning Paul and I woke up at 4:30 AM to fly out. I couldn’t even leave the house before something eventful happened. As I was putting on my backpack, I knocked over a candle holder shattering glass everywhere. So before 6 AM, I was vacuuming my floor probably furthering my neighbors assumptions that I am crazy. If anyone was up that early. We got to our hotel in Texas at 4 PM. They put us on the 31st floor. I might as well check that off my bucket list since the last hotel that had that many floors, I pleaded and begged to get a room on the lowest possible floor. Later that evening we met up with conference friends and went downtown for a few drinks. We didn’t know that we went to the college clubbing area. Someone told us that we looked like a group of parents looking for our kids. Nice. I have never felt so old. 

The conference went really well, I really won’t bore you with the details. I did end up meeting with my old friend and neighbor I haven’t seen in 18 years. We watched the million of bats fly out from under a bridge in the evening. Might as well check that one off the bucket list as well. Especially since bats scare the guano out of me. 

It is good to be back home. I really don’t think I could handle staying up past 1:30 AM any more nights. One vendor at the conference threw lavish parties complete with food, free drinks, and dancing two nights in a row. So with the wedding this weekend, I can check dancing 3 nights in one week off my bucket list too. Geez, really there is no nightlife in rural WI. That is why I felt appalled that a conference friend wants to come visit us. The guy is from NYC. He is a retired NYC police officer who was there during 9/11. He is masculine, muscular, and has a great accent. His girlfriend is pretty cool too. Their work has taken them around the world, well everywhere except Wisconsin that is. They may be coming our way and want to visit. Really, there is nothing to do here. What should we do? Go cow tipping? Seriously people, I am just kidding. I have never known anyone who has done that. I feel like millionaires are coming to my run down shack. We’ll see if it pans out. Paul said that they just may want to relax. Which pretty much means there is nothing to do here. 

Well, I had better finish unpacking so I can pack my bags to leave for my brother’s wedding tomorrow. In honor of my husband’s birthday tomorrow and the 20th anniversary of the day we first met, next week’s blog will be mainly about him. Talk to you when I get back….

Dreaming…

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Wow, what a busy day. Most of the work is done, now I just need to pack my bags. I got in a 12 mile run. You are probably just sitting on the edge of your seat wondering if I am one of those people that work out while I am traveling for business or on vacation. The answer is no, I don’t. Last time I didn’t even pack my athletic shoes, which was stupid because I ended up walking a lot in sandals. Seems like every time I travel now I have been know to add and check stuff off my bucket list. I am excited that I decided to meet up with an old friend that moved to Texas. She has horses. I never rode a horse. I am not the kind of person that says I know I haven’t seen you in almost 2 decades but can I ride your horse. So I am leaving my options open. Maybe it will be uneventful, but it never seems to go that way for me. 

The last couple of days have been stressful, okay the last couple of weeks. I have been flailing around trying to keep my head above water when yesterday a weed wrapped itself around my foot. I went to the pharmacy and my insurance refused to refill my antacid prescription. I was so upset that I started shaking and my stomach burned. “You’ve gotta be kidding me?!?” I pictured myself for a minute at a conference in a room full of people in a fetal position on the floor while vomiting. A little bit of steam escaped sssssssssssshhhhhhhhhit. Then I realized that I can buy it OTC for 10 times the cost. Yippee! After this, Paul and I were invited to lunch with an eccentric elderly couple that we befriended. I was so upset that I didn’t want to go, but when I got there I felt totally at peace. They are a very loving couple with a clean and nicely decorated old house. We ate lunch outside on their patio underneath the grape vines. Paul is going to harvest the grapes and make wine out of them. 

During lunch I mentioned my desire to learn how to shoot a gun. Even though our hostess is in her 80’s she is not a stereotypical woman of her age. She likes to hunt and fish. She showed me her study full of furs she sewed together and spoke of a woman’s survival class where she even learned how to dog sled. She told me that I was the perfect age to start new things. She also mentioned that I should think about joining an elite choir that she is in. I am thinking about doing that with my daughter. We both have a 3 octave range. My daughter is going off to college next year for music. I would love to do something with her before she leaves.  Besides singing in a few weddings, funerals, singing a bit in church, and being involved in community theatre I have not used this gift as much as I would have liked. She also inspired me to do other non traditional things like fix up an old car. 

I have wanted to fix up one of those old hippie vans, I am picturing a robin egg blue VW. It would be awesome taking that on Route 66 tour in vintage clothing. I have auto mechanics in my blood, but being a girl no one ever taught me. Girls didn’t belong in the garage. I love the smell of gasoline and tires, the comforting scents I associated with my family’s garage. My great grandparents started the business and passed it down to their kids. Out of those kids, my dad was the only offspring. He didn’t want to fix cars. He wanted to fix electronics. I want to fix cars, but never learned how. Last week when cleaning out my grandma’s house I found a book on how to fix antique cars. I had to chuckle because the book was older than me. My mom said that I could always take her old MG and fix it up. Maybe that would be a good project to do with my son. This seems like a couch potato to marathon goal for me, but the possibilities are endless. 

My parents sold my grandma’s house today. It makes me so sad to let go of that part of my life forever. It could be worse. I watched my mother’s childhood house burn down when I was 5. A gas station now stands where my husband’s childhood house was. His bedroom was pump number 9. At least a new loving family will have a chance to make memories in grandma’s house. 

I am going to try to relax. It will be nice to learn new things at the conference and visits friends. I am hoping to enjoy some time by the pool as it seems like fall in Texas is warmer than our summers are here. Then come home, do an 18 mile run, plus 18 loads of laundry, and head out for my brother’s wedding. I am excited about the adventures that await. 

The civil war reenactment

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Apparently there is a memo out there about the things parents shouldn’t do with young children. Apparently that list is a little longer when you have a newborn. But I am a parent that never got that list. When my aunt and uncle told us that they were going to be in a civil war reenactment in our area, my husband and I loaded up our 5 year old, 3 year old and newborn into the car. 

Everything was going well at first. I just didn’t realize at the time how much acting I was going to be doing in the reenactment part. We had a fun time touring my aunt and uncles tent. My aunt sewed all of the costumes. We had our family picture taken in civil war period clothing. I think every family should do an old time picture just for fun. Then my uncle and two teenage cousins geared up to go to the battlefield for the reenactment. 

This is where things got a little sketchy. I probably should have stayed behind or had my aunt take the baby at this point. But I thought, this is just acting. I mean, how bad could it really be? We took the kids to an arena type area without seats. We were there a few minutes when my baby started crying unconsolably. After dirty looks and nothing else worked, I did what every breastfeeding mother of a newborn would do (except being there, of course).  I tried offering the comfort of milk. At this time, an announcer stated that the event was about to start. He said that there was going to be loud gun shots, loud noises, and cannons. It was advised at this time that parents with young children exit the way they came in. Not even stopping to reattach my bra, I headed out the way I came in. The only problem was that I came in the back way. When I left this way I couldn’t go back in and to make matters worse I was heading straight towards the cannon which was going to go off in a matter of minutes. The man next to the cannon said there was nothing that I could do but run fast. So here I am running as fast as I can with a newborn and my breast half hanging out. 

It really didn’t feel like a reenactment to me. I’m sure that mothers were running away from cannons all the time during the civil war. Lol. I couldn’t stop laughing when the other people saw me running. I haven’t been back to a civil war reenactment since. But with my performance I could say that I had a lead role. I’m surprised I didn’t end up in the local newspapers. 

Treasure or trash?

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While cleaning out my grandma’s house a couple days back, I thought I stumbled upon treasure sitting next to the dumpster. This is always a bad assumption. It was a pretty cross necklace that had an ugly charm of a surfer attached to it. The ugly charm went in the trash and the necklace went around my neck. I imagined it to be a priceless family heirloom. The necklace contained the letter W and a crown. Since my grandma’s maiden name started with a W and her family came from England, I imagined a remarkable family crest. Since it also had a couple of dates on it, I checked my genealogy records for a match seeing nothing but the year of death in common for a great great grandpa with the last name W. 

About eight years ago, I started scouring genealogy records when they first came online. I got as far back as I could. But the information did not give me the answers I was seeking. I wanted to know these people, my people. What were their personalities like? Who were they? Who am I? I trudged around libraries, archives, and cemeteries with my grandma. I did find that her great grandpa was a settler in the area. He cleared out his own land and became a part of small town politics. Pictures show him as a wealthy man. He loved cats and his family was involved in theater and art. And that was about it. 

When I was young, only two great grandparents were alive. My dad’s grandma and my mom’s grandma. My dad’s grandma used to be a school teacher. She was a harsh, hard working woman that tolerated no play or sass. Any bad behavior would result in an ass whipping out in the wood shed from her. Even though she passed away when I was about five, stories of her put fear into me.  My mom’s grandma was a different story altogether. She was a chain smoking alcoholic. It is rumored that she drove a taxi cab in Chicago and smoked cigars. She passed away when I was in middle school. I remember her having a cigarette in one hand and a drink in the other.  You could hear her coming when the ice rattled in her glass. She hated kids, if we didn’t get out of her way she would holler. I only have one great aunt left. Soon these memories will be gone. 

Yesterday I decided to research the necklace I found. With the help of Google, I found I was in possession of a Prussian iron cross that was handed out to military personnel in the beginning of WWI. Hmmm, I even found out that this was the third iron cross issued by the Prussian government. It was a cross received by Adolf Hitler. The fourth edition of the iron cross had a swastika on it. I was beginning to feel very uneasy about my new treasure. This was not what I was expecting to find. Although my family heritage is German, I was really confused because they immigrated to America before 1914 the year on the cross. 

I called my mom to tell her about the iron cross. She said, “That old thing?” “Your dad said he won that at the fair when he was a kid.” Mystery solved. I held a gum ball machine treasure. Too bad it didn’t make it into the dumpster after all. I learned another lesson, sometimes trash is really just trash even when you want it to be treasure. Who knows, maybe someday my great great grandchildren will stumble along this blog in the internet archives and find treasure. I wish my children would know how wonderful my grandparents were. I wish genealogy was a search were you find more than dates of birth and death. Maybe someday it will be. 

Even my imagination runs

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I took a couple of days off unintentionally, scrapped another blog idea, and just ended up being very busy on a “light” weekend. I ran 12 miles Saturday, stopped in for awhile at a church event, and then spent 4 hours moving stuff out of my grandma’s house. I have learned a few things, like not to run 12 miles and lift boxes for 4 hours. I did sleep good that night! Sunday ushered in the last sailboat ride for the season. The weather was perfect. 

Saturday’s run was average although something strange happened. There were 2 young guys (20’s) in a truck with a trailer behind it. They were at a stop sign when I ran by. The driver was checking me out. Then a half mile later they drove by me again and pulled to the side of the road a mile ahead. This worried me a little. Even though I run on the “busy” roads, it is still pretty rural and no one was around. How could I protect myself from 2 young muscular men if they meant harm? I imagined sinister conversation. “Let’s go get that runner and tie her up in the back of the trailer.” I was praying that they saw my gray hair. After 9 miles, I was a sitting duck. They ended up driving away before I got to them. Pffwhew. Maybe they were lost. Last night my friend was telling me how she was the only woman doing the trap shoot league. It was then that I decided that I want to add learning how to use a gun to my bucket list. I briefly announced my day dreams of running with a gun holstered to my hip or in the back of my running bra fighting off wild animals and predatory men. My husband said I would probably end up shooting myself. Sometimes my imagination runs wild too. 

I am still having some knee pain while running. I feel sore all over and my endurance has been pretty crappy lately. I started taking glucosamine chondroitin like my active brother who had the 2 knee surgeries. Also, like my dog. But if I start blogging about digging a hole to China or escaping my yard to get to my neighbor’s caged rabbits like my dog did while under the influence of this drug please let me know before it is too late. I have been wearing my brace. The only other thing it said to do is lose weight. I don’t even think my doctor would recommend that. I am probably now at the point of being underweight. People are now saying wow you lost a lot of weight. Are you ok? Even though I burn a lot of calories, I am not usually hungry. When I am really stressed, my body tells me not to eat. I could go all day without really noticing that I didn’t eat. Yesterday I ate too much and my acid reflux let me know. I associated eating with pain as a child. For months I barely ate. My parents threatened to take me to the doctor then. I wish they did. 

It has been almost a year since I have been diagnosed with acid reflux. Looking back, I knew I had it since childhood. The burning pain when I ate. The dentist asking me if I had acid reflux because it looked like acid was wearing down my teeth on one side probably from sleeping on that side. Of course it makes sense now. I have been taking Prilosec now for months supplementing it with liquid antacid and close to the max dosage of Tums. What happens when this no longer works? I mean really. My stress levels probably aren’t going down in the next 5 years. Even running is starting to be stressful. Maybe it is time to revisit my bucket list to add some just for fun items to it. Or book that winter trip to Florida. 

Reflections on 9/11

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If you are an American and were old enough to remember, you probably know where you were when you heard the news of the terrorist attack years ago. When I think about it, really reflect on it, I remember exactly where I was when I heard all the bad news in my life. When my grandpa died 15 years ago, I answered the phone downstairs in the family room. I accused my mother of lying. I said it wasn’t true. I just spent the day with him a couple hours before it happened. I was in the kitchen when I heard that my grandma died. I was in my bedroom when I called her brother to tell him. I was in 6th grade when I heard that the space shuttle Challenger exploded. Teachers were sobbing over the death of the teacher Christa McAuliffe. The school was torn down over 2 decades ago, but I still remember the room I was in. 

It seems so strange that my children, nearing adulthood, have no memories of 9/11 because they were too young. It seems like yesterday that I was staring transfixed at the TV screen. My good friend called crying first thing in the morning telling me to turn on the TV. I remember feeling numb with shock. This couldn’t be happening. Our old neighbors stopped by later that day. I remember her sobs. The images we were seeing were horrific. Our children watched with us, not understanding. I remember watching the little children in the church nursery weeks afterward crashing little cars into toy buildings while pondering the fate of our country. Even though I didn’t know anyone personally affected by the loss, we as a nation mourned. We watched for weeks hoping that survivors would be found among the wreckage. We developed a new fear of anyone collectively different from us. We had to. We were afraid, even in rural Wisconsin. We worried that our Great Lakes would be poisoned. People in large cities were afraid. Then came the Anthrax scare. It poisoned our mail. We weren’t even safe in our own homes. Health care workers got small pox vaccinations in defense against biological warfare. People feared mass transportation, shopping malls, and traveling in general. Life as we knew it changed. 

Then came the first anniversary of 9/11. I remember exactly where I was. I was in the bathroom that day taking a pregnancy test. Right after it said positive the fire trucks went down my road full sirens blaring with flags behind them. People came out of their homes and waved. Many years have past since then. I was even invited to a wedding that day. I didn’t think that it was right. But could I say it was wrong? Life goes on. Others were born that fateful day. Friends of ours were flying out of the country on 9/11/01 to get married. They spent their scheduled “wedding night” with hundreds of other frightened travelers grounded at the airport. 

Several years back, I had the opportunity to go to the 9/11 site and museum. It was solemn, eerie, and mournful. Outside the site itself, there were people protesting their foreign government in languages that I did not know. I don’t think that I could even describe how empty that felt. I was standing next to a blackened building hearing their cries, understanding but not. Inside the 9/11 site were the names of the victims, some people had roses placed next to their names. This was at the edge of an eternal waterfall. No matter how far you looked down you could not see its ending. I just remember how silent everything was even though there were tons of people there. I don’t think that anyone kept a dry eye in the museum. I think over time our country grew stronger because of this. We pulled together. We made it through. I just wish the cost wasn’t so high. We will always remember the strong and courageous people who gave everything they had that day. 

Scabies and other things that bug me

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My autistic brother Matt has been in a group home for about 5 years now. Begrudgingly, my mother decided that it was better for her to choose a home of her liking versus having us do it after she is gone. It was something that my parents put off doing until Matt was in his mid 30’s and they were their 60’s. It wasn’t an easy adjustment, but it was mainly good. Well, except for the scabies. That’s right, one of the care providers brought scabies to the house. This ended up resulting in my brother getting scabies which he needed 3 pesticide treatments for. He had a major allergic reaction to the treatments which caused his hands to blister, peel, bleed, ooze in a red angry rash. My brother went around looking like he had a flesh eating virus for the past 6 months. The care provider refused to seek treatment and kept spreading it to this group of people again and again until they were forced to let her go. My brother is starting to finally get better. It was something so disgustingly horrible that I find hard to describe without pictures. You wouldn’t want to see them anyway. 

In response to all of this, my mother did some extreme allergy testing. This resulted in some extreme responses while we were up north this last weekend. First of all, the sun revolves around Matt. Remember me saying that last time up north when it was very hot Matt was angry because he couldn’t sleep? He wanted all of the fans off so my mom turned them off. So what? Who cares if he is angry? What, is he going to hurt our children like he hurt us? About the diet, my mom was going to wash off the grill after we made hamburgers just in case there was something in the seasoning that Matt was allergic too. That is too extreme. When he comes to my house he brings his own hand towel because he may be allergic to my detergent. That is too extreme. He also brings his own soap. That is too extreme. Matt is allergic to one kind of sugar and not another, but the canned food label only says sugar. Perhaps we should call the company and ask what kind of sugar they use. That is too extreme. He can no longer have baked beans because he is allergic to the pork now. 

Mark and Carla decided to have a pig roast for their wedding in 2 weeks. Matt now can’t eat what they are serving. My parents asked if they could stay at  Carla’s house for the wedding because of the special diet and linens that needed to be used for Matt.  Carla said that she didn’t have anywhere else to get ready, to put on her dress. Emily passed on a word of advice to Carla that apparently I gave her, to set boundaries. Emily said that my mom asked her to ask what kind of butter was in the mashed potatoes on her wedding day. Emily is right, the bride has too many other things she has to worry about. Mom asked Mark if Matt would be the best man at the wedding. Mark just said that in passing a couple weeks ago because he hates being the center of attention. Tensions are high, no one is ready. 

Recently, my brother Luke and I have been discussing taking our families on vacation this winter. I told Luke that mom might want to bring Matt along. He said absolutely not. I agree. I’m sorry, I can’t live like this anymore. If we decide this week to fly down to Florida, either my brother or I will have to be the bad guy. We love our mother and Matt, but this extreme favoritism just brings resentment from the rest of us. We have our own problems with our own kids. I don’t think that scrubbing down the grill is going to make a difference. I know mom needs to feel like she has some control. 

I am sorry, I feel very angry today. I realize that parenting a forever child is difficult for the parents, but guess what? It is hard for the siblings as well. We spent our whole lives dealing with all of this crap. Just because you are martyrs doesn’t mean that we don’t struggle. I’m sorry to be so edgy, some bad things happened today that I can’t talk about now. I will probably be able to talk more about it tomorrow. 

Bracing myself again

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Today was a very humid day. I tried to get a run in before work, but was greeted by thunder and torrential downpours so I waited until my lunch break. After the holiday weekend, I spent a long day at work racing around putting out fires. I was able to get in a 6 mile run in though. It was a tough run. It seemed like my whole body hurt. My back, shoulder, wrist, right hip, and left knee were sore today. My knee hurt more than last week. If it doesn’t get better soon, I may make a doctor appointment. I always thought that running was a relatively cheap sport. What do you need really? My husband caused a big stir a couple years back by being a barefoot runner. Talk about cheap! He did spend a lot on bandages until his feet got tough as leather. He now runs with minimalist shoes which oddly enough never seem to wear out. Over the years, I have acquired more running gear. Plus money spent on races. Now if I end up having a running induced injury, I can see it being an expensive sport. 

It wasn’t like I did anything strenuous over the weekend to cause this pain. I watched the men do the heavy lifting. It was pretty nice giving unsolicited advice with my 2 little nieces next to me. It helped prevent unwanted responses. Lol. It is hard for me to stand and watch the men work. Here my dad is pushing 70. He gets winded walking across the room. I feel guilty standing by when I am in great shape. I asked Paul why I can’t help the guys. He said I complain too much. Oh, slow down. It’s too heavy. Sad thing is that he is probably right. So far all I’ve done is complain about everything that hurts. Whaaaaa. 

I haven’t been sleeping well either. Oh, insomnia, my nighttime companion. I recall sleeping well once over the last couple of weeks and it was drug induced. It was after I took meds for my crown. I have become used to being tired. About 2 decades ago I had a sleep test that said that I never go into a deep sleep, so I never feel rested. As a teen it took me forever to fall asleep and I didn’t stay asleep. Now I fall asleep pretty good, I just spend an hour or more awake at night and wake up early. Probably stress and hormones. I am going to try taking some melatonin tonight to see if I can sleep. I come from a long line of poor sleepers. My dad has severe sleep apnea and restless leg syndrome. I always thought that my mom couldn’t sleep because of the kicking and snoring. After sleeping in different beds, my mom doesn’t sleep any better than I do. What a wicked bunch indeed. 

Sorry, it is just hard for me to feel physical pain without an exciting story to tell.  I am just getting old. It is hard to watch my body have limitations while watching my teens not motivated to do all that they can while they can. It is hard to focus at work who you have a sleep hangover without the fun the night before. The more sleep deprived I get, the moodier I become. I walk around like a irritable zombie. My IQ drops at least 2 standard deviations. 

Okay, enough with the pissing and moaning. I did decide that I want to do my first triathlon next summer. That is if I can still walk. 

Up north, part 5

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Well this is it. Summer is unofficially over tonight. The deceptively warm weather this past week and weekend tricked my mind into believing that it was just beginning as we took out the dock and shut the cabin down for the season. But the leaves are changing color ever so slightly like the season of my life that I am entering now. Cooler temps will enter the scene tomorrow as if Mother Nature did get the memo after all. Saying good bye to summer is like losing a best friend which incidentally happened this summer as well. 

Since we last spoke, my husband came back from his week long sailing trip. Then guess what we did on Saturday? That’s right, I had him take me sailing to a beach that we haven’t been to all summer. There were lots of boats littering the beach, but ours was the only sailboat. This always attracts attention. Three bikini clad women just had to take a tour. Paul helped the ladies on board telling them that they could grab ahold of anything they needed for support. I was thinking, not everything ladies, not everything. But it didn’t come down to that. Lol. We came back as the sun was setting, eating sushi. Man, sometimes a sailor can make a woman feel so classy. Then we got home and I proceeded to fall asleep on the couch. Scratch that comment I made earlier about runners being up for anything on a Saturday night. Ah, maybe next weekend…

Then there was the matter of a slight domestic dispute between my teenagers on the way to church. And I thought things were going well when my son was ready to leave for church early. Almost made me proud until my daughter got into the shower 10 minutes before it was time to leave disrupting the natural ebb and flow of the morning tide. This resulted in a big fight of hurricane force that had me pulled over to the side of the road barricading myself from hair brushes and 4 letter words. My daughter screaming at my son for taking the first shower when he knows that she has long hair that needs time to dry. In a thundering crescendo, she pulled my son’s short hair. The waves of emotion growing higher threatened destruction. He grabbed her hairbrush, broke it in half, and flung it at her hitting her in the mouth. She’s crying, splattering large tears, saying that he broke her tooth. Just a slight bloody lip inflicted from the roaring wind of her tempest mouth. We live close to the church so we had to hurry up and put on our happy family forced summer sunshine all kitties and puppies smile. Nice how are you’s answered with a seething angry happy good everything is fine plastic fake smile. 

It was then that I thought for that brief moment that my mother-in-law was right. The previous weekend she dropped off my son after spending the weekend there and told me that my kids were brats and he was not welcome at her house ever again. She locked him at her house without Internet and friends, more than I ever get. I got the biggest hug and I love you mom after that. Wonderful. Then my mother-in-law proceeded in telling me that her best friend’s grandchildren were perfect, not like my bratty kids. I said, “Well how nice for her”. I would be upset with my son, but this happens almost every time we see her so I just shrugged it off. Then she criticized what I was making for supper and got in a fight with her husband. I kept telling myself that she could have aborted her unwanted child, my husband. It is in these moments that I remember that if my husband had an easy childhood, I probably wouldn’t appreciate how far he has come as a husband and father without having a father himself. Or how hard he has worked starting a business and getting a Master’s degree when his only parent dropped out of high school. We can all have a better life beyond the limitations of childhood. 

Oh life, someday I’ll laugh over all of this.