Things that make me happy

Things that make me happy..

The sound of a horse's hooves on the cobblestone.

The sound of the ocean waves hitting the shore.

The feeling of a worn pier beneath my back, legs dangling over the edge.

The feeling of a warm fluffy bed on a cold rainy night.

The smell of Christmas trees and cookies baking in the oven.

The sudden bobbing of my sons' heads when they show up by my bedside each morning asking for breakfast with a sweet silly smile.

Friends that stick around for hours to talk about nothing.

And, friends that have become family over time because they've been there in the good times and bad and all of those times in between.

Things that make me happy....

Trippin' on change.

Eights months ago I moved here.

I had no idea what it would be like. I ONLY knew it was FAR.

FAR from a grocery store. FAR from pizza. FAR from, well, Chinese delivery wasn't an option either.

There were DEER everywhere. And, people here hated them, or they overfed them.

Every house was on a hill or under a hill.

The driveways were like little roller coasters. Still, there are some roads I won't even attempt to go up or down.

The breeze that flows through the Palm trees sounds like the ocean. It's so cold here some days. It's hot other days and suddenly weirdly rainy.

The stars are like darts of light through a dark blanket over the sky. They are so confident out here they make you feel small.

If the neighbor leaves, you hear it for MILES.

I've overcome the grocery store drive. I've found my tricks.

I've navigated the clicks. I know where I fit in. I think. Or, I thought I did.

I've learned with change, big change like this- -leaving a city you've known for YEARS surrounded by friends that ARE your family, to move to another small town very different from the BIG city you lived in..it takes a lot of time to adjust.

People aren't always what they seem at first. Or even at the second glance.

Heck, I'm not even the same.  Some days I'm confident. Other days, I'm pretending.  Oddly sometimes, I attract more friends when I stop caring- -stop trying. But, it hurts NOT to care. But, then sometimes, it's easier NOT to try too.

I'm changing too.  I feel like everything is still changing out here. There are so many ropes to learn. It's like a pecking order out here. If I get overconfident, someone comes along and trips me.

It's like I'm the new girl and everyone's bound and determined to underestimate me. Or, overestimate me.

Then, I have to dust off my hands, wipe my knees and get back up again and paint a smile on my face.

But, with all of the change. All of the trips. All of the falls. I'm still the same from the CORE.

I think.

I still love navy blue. I still LOVE writing. I still love my friends. And, when I find some here, I'll love them too.  I know. I know. It takes time.

And though the winds are always changing. I know that it is fair. It is fine- -even if sometimes they feel too harsh. They SOUND so harsh against the window panes. It's like the weather is as temperamental as the neighborhood welcome season.

It comes and goes like a fashion fad. One day "you're in and the next you are out.."

I know it's NOT that bad. But, if I was meeting the new girl, I would have sat her down already, introduced her to some people and taken her out to dinner to JUST get to know her already.

I feel like I'm waiting in the wings sometimes for the show to start. Or, with an over-excited grin when I just get ONE wave from someone I'm starting to know, it makes my day and it's embarrassing if I show that it does.

No one needs new friends as much as someone that doesn't have them. Yet.

I know. Change. It takes time.  That's what I keep hearing. I GOT it.

Meanwhile, I make myself busy. Taking on two more part-time jobs. Work MORE from home. Tread water for a bit.

And eventually, the stars- -all of those things I LOVED about my Houston home- - will feel closer to  this new "home".

 The deers won't feel so exotic and the friends around here will feel like a new family again for me too. And, I'll be like a star among them.

medals and charms

This was written in Sept. of 2011.

This week I really struggled with focusing on the negative.  Funeral. Family. Sadness... Want for lost time. Missing out.

I could see my grandfather. He was in there. Laying there. I was looking at my grandfather's grave. It bothered me. It was too final. Too much. Too hard to believe that there wasn't anything I could do to change the moment.

It was there. His name in print. Acknowledged by at least someone else. It was even in the papers.  You could touch the coffin. He lay there permanently even if I told myself that wasn't him.

You could touch the veteran's flag. You could hear the ceremonial gun salute. You could hear the trumpet's song.  The end of a song. The end of my time with my fine fellow.

Negative. Not fair. Not enough time. Like a child, I found myself head down, twisting my right foot in circles in the sand.  Pouting at the age of 33. If I pretend it's not there, it's not. Right?

Then, I look up and see my aunt crying. My uncle head down. He wore those cheesy black boots. Didn't recognize the back of his head with his head bowed. And, I see people around me charmed by his life. They loved him too. What an honor to see that. To see how he was loved. 

Then, I watched the brave soldiers hand my grandfather's widow a flag. Each of three kind, metaled men looked her directly in the eyes on bended knee and thanked her for service.

And, I hid behind a tower and cried. And, I remembered as the soldiers stood there, that it was my turn to be brave too.

Dumb. But, facing the negative isn't what I want to do. I want everything back. I want the time back. I want long talks with my grandpa back. I want taking it for granted back. There I am negative again....

But, instead, I'll remember the moments, like charms. Circles of time hang together on a chain of one lifetime. Captured moments like pictures or trophies on my memory pages. Stockpiled for tomorrow.  These are MY badges of honor.

I'll remember the laughter. I'll remember the long letters. I'll remember my heritage and the bravery that I GET to be related to. This part of him that lives in me can continue.

People said to me he was old. It was time. And, I get mad because time and memories are timeless. There are no boundaries. For a child, or for an adult, sometimes the people we look up to seem, well, timeless. Invincible.

To me, he was always grandpa. In his 60s, not 82. He was the one with the stories. The long-talker. He was one in the same. He doesn't get older. He's just there. He's mine.

I'll remember him.  Our memories are my charms. My ribbons to wear on MY chest.

As I got in the car, I saw the thousands of veteran tombstones. Alike but, yet as bold as though they were original. I'll pause and remember those thousands that said, "I'll fight" and even those that didn't want to, like me. I don't like change.

My grandpa.  His memory.  My fit.  Time for me to suit up. Let go and reframe the moment instead. I can say, "Hey, lookie there! I was. I AM related to him. Yes, that great warrior of a man..." See, he's still timeless.

Charming acts of boldness, character and Cherokee-tattooed colored strength.  Memories that linger even after the dirt settles in the sand and I've kicked and screamed and begged for my own way -- -even if he was 82...

And, I think I'm happy

And, I think I'm happy.

Learning to love being out here with nothing but the stars and the shushing of the wind's kiss on the trees.

My dog lays at my feet. My kids run up and down the hill in the backyard.

The rock sits heavy on the trashcan lid to keep foxes and raccoons out. I turn on the motion light in the morning to watch my son and husband drive to school. Jack, our fox scammers away.

The deer sleep five feet away like happy fat cows in my backyard during the day, then graze when the sun sets along our nonfence lined property. I love how they wander to and fro as if they own this place long before we were here. I am okay with that.

Appreciation of a nonsewage smell in the house makes me happy. This week, learned all I could about septic tanks. Grateful for the green cover and updated plug outlet now buried inside the yard. I know it's safe. And, $1600 later, I know all about septic pumps, how to switch the valve and how to survive when the light screams high water. I know I can go three days without a running septic and survive.

Learning how to shop all at once when I am "in town." It's very Laura Ingalls Wilder. Learned to over buy milk and staples and to appreciate the treats when I get them. Learned also to appreciate life without them.

Learned to live without pizza delivery and weeks without Starbucks. I've learned to make my own coffee concoction at home. My perfect brew: Folgers Vanilla Biscotti coffee pod, a dash of Amaretto coffee creamer and a slice of Hershey syrup or a piece of a Hershey bar works fine. It's perfect and only 80 cents a cup.

Working on making my own scones too. It seems only fitting since I live on Scone drive. Why not? Though, to be honest, if I could buy them, I'd just buy them. I get giddy when I get something new in the mail. I love also having my own non-community mailbox too. Mail order is great. When there's nothing near, ordering and paying shipping seems to be the only way.

I love waving at our mail lady too. This small community makes me happy in my soul. It's like we all take care of each other.

I have one friend out here, actually almost two. I am okay with that. Good friends are hard to find. And, I have some family too. We are related by marriage almost. Well, not really, but she's family. I get to see her Sunday. Makes me feel whole.

No word from my MIL, but expect something is brewing. Letting it be. Have to let hubby deal with it- -or not deal with it. But, I finally feel peace with that. I finally feel forgiveness. It's almost an excitement in my heart to be free of it. It's a joy I can't contain. I am happy. Weight is lifted.

Spending Thanksgiving with my aunt and her husband. Chicken Fried Steak is on the menu and of course, pie. It will be the first time in eleven years that I am not entertaining hubby's mom. We are making the family recipes- -like grandma used to make. We won't overindulge. We make just enough and we will make it together. No kitchen bosses, just kitchen family working together alongside each other in the kitchen. The home feels warm. I can't wait to make memories.

Christmas in Colorado. Excited, yet nervous about getting on a plane as a family of five, being somewhere else for five days, nervous about my mom's Rottweiler dogs too. But, if I can live in a one bedroom apartment for three months, I can have fun in a new place. And, besides, there will be snow.

Found a great place to put the dog while we are gone. It's a dog ranch. $28 a day, but he won't be cooped up in a vet cage. It's worth it.

Found a vet I love. Found a pediatric dentist that's fine. I found a doctor for me and a barber for the boys. Found a dentist for me and hubby too.

It's slowly coming together. I even found a school for my son to attend preschool and he's so happy. And, it only brings balance to my life to have that time apart from him.

It also feels nice not to be poor either. We have what we need and we are not scrimping to buy groceries so we can save to buy and sell a house. It's nice. It's like breathing again.

Bought some things for myself too. Felt great.  We are not talking going crazy, but I bought a pair of boots, some clothes for myself and for my oldest. Small stuff like shoes without holes are very much appreciated. We literally had shoes with holes in them for a while. Wal-mart shoes don't last too long on a six year old.

Living with so little for so long was like living with open wounds. Now, I remember them clearly, makes me appreciate all that I have now.

Makes me happy.

I'll rest here for a while- -enjoying every minute of this blessing.

My marriage is better. We fight. We argue. We fall away. We come back together. We get beneath the layers, little by little. Out here in the country, there's no place to go.

It's good.

Yes, it's good.

I know I am happy. There's too many blessings to count.

Fences of comfort

Oct 2012

This new city thing is coming together…a little. 

I DID get a little sad when I talked to our dog’s former vet yesterday. It wasn’t that I LOVED the place; it’s just that I could picture who was on the other side of the phone. Then, I missed home.

I don’t miss my old house, but I miss how I knew everything about it.

This house is a new adventure every day. Today the septic high water light went on again. Sigh. Tomorrow, it may be something else. Learning to roll with what comes at me. It’s not easy, but to look back and see what waters we’ve rafted, it doesn’t seem that bad.

So far….

Met a new friend.  She makes me laugh. She GETS me. She’s very vocal and very laid back. She’s older, like she graduated in 89…older. That’s fine. Still trying to figure us out.  I can tell she’s trying to figure me out too..only she’s the more confident one. I feel like I just put my toe in the water.

Went to the park with her. Her kids are a bit older. She’s a nature person. She is now in charge of the ropes course at the school, on city council and a couple other important things. Though, talking to her, you’d never know it. I really feel like myself with her, yet still I feel it’s a balancing act not to share too much. I have to also remember she knows nothing about me.

It’s starting from ground zero. It’s a weird place.  And, I remember neighbor issues at the old house and just things I could have done better, so I try to do the best I can. 

I don’t want to appear clingy or needy or share too much.  I want to undo anything else I could have done wrong with other friends.  It seems like it’s better when you need your friends less than they need you.. I always feel like I need them more and it’s harder that way.. So I stand tough these days..

Probably too tough.

The hard part is not having years to fall back on. Like, I’ve only known her a week or two so we don’t have a history to ground the friendship. Like, any day she could like stop calling and inviting me to stuff and I’ve got to be okay with that. It’s hard since I feel  so vulnerable right now.

So, I feel a little lost some days not having a home base because my friends really are my family. They are. And, I have no family here.. but I know it will come…

Still don’t know if I am in her club yet. She embraces me, but I wait every day and prepare if I don’t make the cut. Not sure exactly who the popular kids are. I think I know two of them now, so I am all too careful. This really is a small town. Population 1250, it feels like population 5.

I’m holding back a ton these days. They call me “Houston.” They laugh at my hills fears and my strong pain of missing chain restaurants and pizza. And, how I WHINE about how everything is so FAR away (25 minutes away).

She got along well with John and she seems to be on my wavelength. Her house is over the hill. I can see her metal roof from my deck.  It makes my world feel smaller when I can point to someone I know from my front deck. It, actually means the WORLD to me.

I am great when we talk over the phone, but together, in person, like all other times, I get shy. I don’t feel as confident. Or as bold.

I attended the Halloween party for the neighbors. It was a bunch of parents and their kids. It was great, but I froze up the minute I was in the crowd. I suddenly didn’t know what to do. I said hello, shook some hands and got all stiff.  Small talk. I am great with a couple of people at a time, but in crowds, I just don’t do as well.

I visited a neighbor church Halloween gig. It was awesome, though I fought back the tears because I didn’t know a soul.

I find I am afraid to let the kids go too. I don’t want them to leave my side. Even in the backyard, I am careful. Of course, there are no fences.

Fences, now that’s the deeper issue.  The fences I’ve built around me over the 34 years I lived in Houston. Fences of friends become family.

Fences of familiarity. Fences of safety. Fences of people that took care of me. Doctors, teachers, fire fighters.

It’s not easy. When people don’t know you. It’s like I’m walking a tightrope without a safety net all of the time- -an orphan out here.

But, little by little, I feel like this COULD be home… Just have to give it time…

LOVE over Perfection

Sometimes the hardest part about being a mom is the other moms...

Sometimes it's my own mom.

Sometimes it's my MIL.

Sometimes it's the comparisons.... Sometimes it's me.

Sometimes it's the quest for perfection- -whatever that is.

Yesterday my mom visited. The first two days were fine. Then, the third day, she was rearranging my house, criticizing the drawer space, the kids' rooms, my lack of a cracker-crumb-free car...

Everything was under the breath words.. She started to remind me a lot of my MIL. I've never noticed it before. My dad said they had much in common, but I never noticed that before. I guess because well, she's my mom.

Dad and mom, divorced since I was four, seem to have only harsh sarcastic words for one another.. I take it with stride and a sense of humor..

These last two days were filled with passive aggressive conversations. She said, "I know you are late.. it doesn't bother me you are 15 minutes late but... if it were you..." I start to drive a 50 in a 30 and then stop and think it's not worth it. I can bend over backwards and still, can't make her happy.

The story of my life and the beginning of NEW habits. I took a deep breath and turned up the radio. Let her wait. It's her character that needs to change not mine. I explained to her sweetly we had plenty of time. Any other mom with three youngsters would have totally understood being 15 minutes off "schedule." Fifteen minutes is a given.

But growing up if I was 5 minutes late, it was a verbal beating for sure. It was TERRIBLE.

The whole day was a tug of war. I said let's do the running around in town then go back home to wash your clothes so we don't have to make a 15 mile commute more than once today. She doesn't listen.. "Well, when it's not your way, it's a 30 min commute, but when you are late it's only 20 minutes.."

I shrug and let another one go. She has no idea how unkind she is.  She has no idea my son missed his nap Tuesday so I could spend the day driving 150 miles around town to entertain. We don't have days like this. We are home most of the day. We do one activity at most on a given day. It's all about balance.

Meanwhile all day she calls her husband's co-worker all day to check on the arrival of their baby.. all day long.. leaving messages for someone she's beaten up for years verbally behind his back.. like she wants to be important..like she's HIS family..but I've never heard her say a kind work about the guy..She changes her voice all sweet and it bothers me. A lot.

I love her.. she's been very good to me..she paid for my surgery last June. It changed my life. She changes my life, but it does't seem to last.. the goodness changes with her moods.. and it's hard to always embrace all of her.. all of the time..

It's complicated. So I walk a tightrope. Her emotions turn and move. I ask again why she didn't sleep, she says, "Because I ate that weird meal" She growls. I respond back with kindness, "No, I meant was it anything else?"

She repeats things over and over. I nod again. She makes conversations with strangers to tell them how much money she has, to tell them about their business and their search for a home and about private schools as if she's high society. We wait outside on the patio at the coffee shop while she makes new friends with strangers.

She gets embarrassed when the valet sees the inside of my car and tells him, "it's a mess." I get angry and yell out cheerfully "I am a pig!" I am angry, but hiding it well.  I vacuumed the car out two weeks ago... it's not enough.. but I MOVED 5 days ago.. Give me a break woman!

While cleaning up the room in my sons' room. I unpack the drawers.

She said, "this is a mess!"

I said, "Yes, but I don't want to clean it now. I want to spend time with my sister! I want to take that time.. now.. and not miss it.."  The goal three days ago was to JUST get things into drawers and off of the floor...

She says (your sister), "She doesn't need that. She's fine."

I say, "But I need the time with her. I miss her." And, I keep cleaning..

Tug of War.

Then I went to check on the tree cutter people outside.. she said, under her breath as I leave, "I am SURE that's more important" than cleaning up this room..

And, I feel like, yes, if I am cutting them a check for a grand to cut 8 trees down, yes, I should take a step or two outside to check on the progress or lack thereof.

And no, my house is not always perfect. Yes, I keep dishes in the sink a night or two once or twice a month. If it's a choice between losing my mind, I'll choose sanity. 

You see, with three kids, ages 2, 4 and 6, there's a lot of juggling to do. You don't remember that if you don't have young kids.

She has a 13 year old and it's so easy to remember how easy it was.. right?

That's the hard part. I feel strongly that encouragement with moms is HUGE. There's no ONE way to do this job. I know my kids. I know them.  It's even harder when it's your own mom or MIL cutting you down.

And, no I am not perfect. It's a progression. And, one day it works one day and the other, it works another way. This mom job is ever-changing-- so BACK OFF already!

But, it's hard when other moms, my mom or a MIL sees only THEIR way as the right way. Those cutting words still linger in the air here like puffs of smoke..."Filth!"

We don't live in filth. We don't. And, I REFUSE to put myself down because I don't meet her standards. I just won't.  I want to tell her, "You have WAY more time than I have right now. You step in my shoes for a WEEK and see what really works and what doesn't. If you are not willing to do that, then back away."

I found I kept my home perfect while I was showing it for 6 months and I yelled like a crazy woman almost every single day. I can have a clean house, but I always regretted treating my kids that way at the end of the day. I couldn't recognize the monster I had become.

Today, I cleaned the bathroom, swept the floor, did three loads of laundry, made lunches, cleaned kitchen, bathed a two year old, checked email, sent out 8 grade reports, responded to work emails, prepared Halloween clothing and plans, took out the trash and showered all by 11 a.m. That's actually a lot for me. But, I made time to snuggle on the couch with my 4 year old too.

I won't always have that time to snuggle.. nor will he want to snuggle with me..

So, I say as moms, we can agree to disagree. No one is perfect. But we all love our children. Love is what sticks. So, less criticism please.

I want to tell my mom to back off, but I nod and let her ramble on about everything she's sure she knows best about. I figure she will be gone in a day. Keep the peace. But, if and when she moves here, things will HAVE to change..

She calls two and three times in one morning. She gets angry when I don't call her RIGHT back, but I sweetly (with clenched teeth) tell her I was bathing my son, I needed a minute..and she stops her frustration. She didn't have control and it bothered her.

She HAS to have control.

The expectations she has for me are way too high most days. And, I've stopped putting on aires and the illusions of cleaning for three days before she comes just so she won't verbally go at it with undercuts of passive aggression. She can think what she wants. That is a major step for me. It's a great step. That, and not driving 50 to appease her time constraints.

Reality, she couldn't do what I do. She couldn't work 10-14 hours a week from home, take care of three kids and balance it all. I get angry when she only sees her side of things.

But, it keeps me humble too. I set it down. I know there are things I can do to improve. I'll take the steps but in my OWN way and in my OWN time. The days, the undercutting words. Like when you watch an Imax film and you get dizzy they say "close your eyes and the moment will pass.."

So, I close my eyes, focus on the good and know the moment will pass.. Yes, I can be BETTER, but YES there are some WONDERFUL things I am doing right.

So, I embrace THAT moment and THAT feeling: I am a great mom. I LOVE My kids and the house is JUST fine :)

Perfection comes later. My kids are babies now. I think I'll embrace THEM over the house.

"Even the trees are different here.."

The house is in need of lots of TLC when it comes to trees and clearing. It's like it needs a facelift or two or three. So it's become my job to find the best candidate for the job. So, far I've interviewed a pirate-look-alike, an arbor enthusiast and a surfer-black and white song Michael Jackson video surfer dude at the end of the music video look-alike.

The surfer tree cutter estimate guy walks up and starts talk to me about the trees today.

He says “See, you need to cut this one back because the Oak tree behind it can’t grow.

"The tree coming through was taking out it’s life. It was sucking it dry. It was keeping the branches from reaching up and toward the other side."

All I could think about was relationships. Like my MIL and people in my life that have been toxic- -that have been in my life and kept me from growing toward the light- -my light- -or the best and brightest place for me.

Or, perhaps, sometimes it was me keeping myself from growing toward the light. Focused on the darkness or the bad over the good.

I think about putdowns or LIES rather I’ve believed all this time about myself. Now, at 34, I still have to brush these under the rug.

I remember when my OBGYN walked out in a huff one day after a routine exam. He said, “You’ve gotta start believing you are a smart beautiful woman!” 

The words stuck in my head. And with all these NEW people coming by in my life- -even tree people, skylight fixer and septic tank worker, I am meeting people of all walks of life.  It’s like being a freshman again in high school. I’m walking into the lunchroom for the first time and I don’t know where to sit.

And, they can tell I’m green. It stumps my self-confidence a little. It’s easy to rule a roost when you’ve been there for years, but to come in and to take charge, well, that’s more about acting. I guess they say act it until you can believe it.

So, I play taking charge of the land. Yes, take those pine trees down. I own it. The other tree hippie says “You can’t! Save the precious tree!”

Yet, he and I could have talked for hours. He reminded me of my dad and my kids’ former pediatrician rolled up in one person. I think we actually talked for two hours and it felt like half an hour.  He got my vision for the property. I told him he both inspired and annoyed me. He showed me everything that COULD be about the property. He also reminded me of my mom. She has a green thumb and an artist’s touch. My husband didn’t like his price and said to get more estimates, ironically, I was inspired, but I had to keep looking. Maybe I can use him as our landscape guru. But, what a moment to connect with another artist.

But, today I talked to surfer dude. Blue eyes and a new college graduation grin. A degree in forestry from Aggieland he bragged with a firm handshake. I had to shake away the giggles. He gave us the lowest estimate and the fairest price. Only $1800 to clear out the land of the shrubs and five or so trees that were overgrown. We keep the Oaks, clear out the Pine and Cedar trees.

Worried it will look naked or disturbed. Hurt that I have to hug the trees and say I am sorry to them.  But, the inspector said it’s the best thing for the property. So, I sigh and make the decision and sign the consent form….

Still, I am trying to inhale the spirit of the land. And, it’s teaching me. And, I feel like I should ask permission first.

I type next to the only sound out here—a howling old freezer. It moans all day reminding my why it was free.

So, with the newness of new relationships, new friendships, new expertise, I embrace the day, learn from the yesterday, prune out the bad, hold on to the new. Watch the changes in landscape- -and appreciate the changes in me. Holding on and believing. It really is a sifting of my life and a huge moment of pruning.

Even when I get the boxes from the move, I toss things that were former treasures.

It’s weird how nature speaks to us. 

I was blessed to interview a young girl in my early reporting days from Russia that was brought here with the help of missionaries about five years ago. They were going to save her arm with medical sponsors. She said of her first impression of America and her heart, “Even the trees are different here.” The American team saved her arm and changed her life forever.

Yes, even the trees are different here two hours from home. I can only imagine how she must have felt continents away from home at age 14. Still, at 34, having never lived away from home before, I still feel almost that tender. 

And, I hear the hippie arbor guy say, "Pine trees are considered gold because they just don’t exist out here" and we are choosing to make room for something new.  He frowns. 

Everything is not always so clear.

It’s like the gold inside me is buried treasure too. I am finding too as I stand out here, without distraction. Everything speaks to me. The roots, the trees, the birds that made their home in the shrubs.

They chirp with nothing to claim their own and yet they are happy—happy enough to sing a song. Life can be so simple.

I stand out here, trying to claim land that isn’t exactly mine yet.

Perhaps I am waiting for it to embrace me too.