Objects in the Mirror are Closer or Older than they Appear

     I'm watching new neighbors move into the house across the street. They are almost the same age I was when we moved into our current house. It's moments like this that remind me that time keeps ticking and my hair has more gray in it and there are more wrinkles around my eyes. Oh, listen to me - it's only Monday morning and I'm already throwing myself a pity party. 

    Besides the gray hair, so many things have changed, especially in the last year. 

    My stomach is a map now, a record of my journey in this body. I have stretch marks from three pregnancies that are faded and silver now. I have a line that runs down my midsection from my first surgery for the Crohn's. It's incredibly straight and thin, like the surgeon just painted a fine line on my skin. It curves around my belly button, where apparently I had a belly button hernia, that he said he fixed for free. I do love scoring a deal - buy one surgery get a free hernia repair. 

    I have two small scars from the laparoscopic sites. Since the first surgery was supposed to be laparoscopic and then surprise for the surgeon, it couldn't be. He had to do things the old-fashioned way. "When I was a surgeon, we actually had to touch the intestines with our fingers." 

    He had to take everything out, cut and sew, and put it back. At least that's what I imagine - my intestines carefully laid out next to me, while he cuts and then pieces me back together. I'm sure my guts mostly stayed in my body. I'm almost positive not all my guts were running loose at some point during my six hour nap.  

    I have another three inch scar where he went back in and reversed my stoma. It is a weird sensation to have part of your intestine peeking out of your body. But also, entirety interesting to watch the smooth muscle at work. I had to have the stoma while my intestines healed. Since having Crohn's can be a pain in the ass- pun intended of course - having a stoma wasn't all bad. I didn't have to run to the bathroom. Period. Is this what having a normal set of plumbing feels like? I think I forget that feeling. 

    When we moved into the house, it was... - I'm not sure how to describe it. It's all tied into relationships that weren't healthy. 

    Perhaps that's why I'm constantly trying to sell it and move. Every attempt I have made to ditch the house though, has resulted in failure - obviously, since I'm still here. But maybe part of it was because it is tied into some unhealthy relationship crap and I have found that the universe doesn't always unlock the next map until you fulfill some quest in the current map. 

    Hobbits assemble - we are going on an adventure to live long and prosper. 

    Going back in the time - three years before we bought this house, I had lost my job when my mom lost her business. We were in the process of selling our first home and buying a second one. When she suddenly closed her business we were left in limbo. 

    So we moved in with my parents as a temporary fix. 

    It was only supposed to be temporary. 

    And then husband refused to move. I'm not sure why. I think he had a lot of opinions about moving. I tried to return to work, got pregnant, and then I couldn't work. I was exhausted all the time and could not work.

    Later I would find out my iron was extremely low and it even showed up in my blood work, but the doctor didn't treat it. 

    He did not deliver the third child, by the way. I am a firm believer in firing doctors that don't read your test results properly. 

    Three years go by and I can't get Husband to move. He's perfectly comfortable living in someone else's home with very little responsibility besides going to work. Then my mom, says, "I'm kicking you out. Get a trailer, get an apartment, but you need to leave." 

    Well, shit. 

    I did what I've always done. 

    I fixed the problem.

    Since husband refuses to move if it's a trailer or apartment.

    I get a pre approval. We qualify. But I know we'll only be able to afford payments if I have a home daycare. 

    I find a house that will work for a home daycare.

    And that's the one we buy. 

    The neighbor's moving in remind me of the day I had keys and needed to clean our new house. My mother in law offers to get her nieces to come over and help with the scrub down. 

    I couldn't believe it. My relationship with her was shaky and...toxic. But I wouldn't put that together until years later. 

    The crew arrives. My mother in law, her nieces, and their children. I've always felt on the outside of this group of women. Awkward. Unsure. 

    But I couldn't believe they were here to help. And I needed help. My mom had a chronic pain condition and couldn't help. And Husband was at work. 

    We scrubbed and cleaned. A few times I would walk into the room and they would stop talking but I didn't think anything of it. 

    Then one of their kids caught me alone. 

    "Hey, you know why my mom's helping right?" She says, sassy and full of the gossip. Whatever she was trying to hurt me or get her mom in trouble, I would never know. But her words weren't shared with good intentions. 

    I shook my head, feeling the heaviness settled into my gut. "No, why?"

    She leans in, looking around to make sure her mom and aunts are still downstairs. "They said since you're opening a daycare, they wanted to check the place out. They weren't going to help, but they need a new daycare."

    I nodded numbly, a spray bottle in my hand. Of course, there would be a reason for their help. They had never been friendly or generous before - why would things suddenly change? 

    A little while later, they brought up if I was going to offer transportation with my daycare. I said no, I didn't have the vehicle for it. And then they tried to pressure me into reconsidering it. 

     I firmly said no again. 

    They went back to being unfriendly again. 

    I will go back to trying to solve the side quest I need to finish so I can unlock the next map. 

    

I will talk to the cat of destiny for clues. After his nap. 

    

Making Mistakes or you know, it's Motherhood

     In the small town next to our small town, we have a gluten free bakery. It's tucked away in a plaza that shares space with the local sanitary district, an occasional used car salesman and various other businesses that survive for six months and then blow away with the constant prairie wind. 

    Years ago I went to a church housed in one of the bigger office spaces. I don't remember much except they had made a spaghetti dinner for after the service and it didn't smell that great. Now, I have been to many a church function and some of those church ladies, they know how to make a spread. This was not one of them. But it was significantly better than the fundraiser I visited this spring inside a church and the church ladies had made boiled hot dogs. Do you know the color of a boiled hot dog? LOL - not a natural one and Baby Blueberry had to have one. 

    Now, to catch up new readers, I must say that Baby Blueberry is no longer a baby, but instead is a teenager. And if you're a reader from the start, then if you feel old, imagine how I feel? I don't feel old until I realize that my surprise baby from a pregnancy in my mid-thirties is now a teenager. This is why poets and songwriters make art about time slipping into the unknown. It is the most elusive element in science. 

    But I digress, as I often do, even in real time conversations. My best friend from when I was a teenager, we will call her SB, often joked about how we would bird walk in our conversations. When I moved half way across country, we were pen pals for a while and then it slowly died out. I missed her. Sometimes there's nothing as intense as a teenage best friend, besides maybe first love. A couple of years ago I started to get the intense urge to look her up. I would dream about her. She would pop into my head uninvited. 

    And so I looked her up. Her obit was the third down on the search. She had died just shortly before that of cancer. At 43. Grief is hard. Regret of not connecting again before she was gone is harder. 

    She had ended up being a fifth grade teacher. Something she had adamantly said she would never be. And now, I'm teaching fifth grade. Also, something I had said I would never do either. I wish we could joke about that. She would enjoy the irony in it. 

    But again I digress and now we go back to the bakery. This bakery is a must visit if you ever come to my area of the world. The baker has worked countless hours to make goods that taste delicious. Not it's pretty good for gluten free, but actually yummy. And so the other day I had the Husband, who does not get the moniker Hero Hottie anymore, because that relationship is in murky waters, pick up two blueberry lemon muffins. One for Baby Blueberry and one for me. 

    I did not eat it that day. I'm recovering from the second of two major abdominal surgeries - thank you Crohn's- and was not hungry yet. 

    The next day I went to get it out of the fridge and I find one muffin with the delicious and best part of the muffin - the top munched by someone else. I started crying and fuming. How could someone eat my muffin? I angrily toss it in the air fryer and ate the bottom of my muffin. 

    A little while later...Baby Blueberry is searching through the fridge, pulls out a whole muffin, not touched and munched and asks, "Where is my muffin? I was saving the bottom of it to eat later." 

    I stare at the untouched blueberry muffin and then look at her. I look back at the muffin and realized that I had grabbed her saved muffin. I sigh. 

    I tell her what happened and then offer my whole, untouched muffin in return. It does seem rather petty to demand the top of the muffin. The best part. The part she now gets to have two of, but I graciously offer my muffin to her. 

    She shared a bit of it, since she realized I didn't get a whole muffin. But man, I really missed eating my entire treat. So the mistake I mentioned in the title - you thought it would be me confessing to some mistake with my child? No, it's the mistake of grabbing the wrong treat in the fridge, believing someone had taken mine, not bothering to look further because if I had, I would have found it, and then missing out of the best part of the muffin. 

    If only I could have hidden my muffin in my secret chocolate stash in my underwear drawer. I used to hide the chocolate in the cupboard, but they - the children - found it. So it had to go where no child is going to search - their Mom's underwear drawer. 

    Anyway, that is how good those bakery treats are - that I wrote a blog about a missing muffin top. Maybe I should put that in a Google review? 

 And also, having treats and kids is the definition of a paradox. 

A Summer 'Bloomed'

According to my three year old niece, CT, this is her artwork of a flower bloomed. Not blooming.
       Bloomed.
       And that's how I feel about summer. It's no longer blooming, it has bloomed. And like a flower whose petals slowly fall off, seeds start to form and eventually the plant withers, summer has already given us its brightest day; now we watch it wind down to the chilly days of autumn.
       I'm not ready. The children are definitely not ready for cold weather and longs weekends trapped in the house. They weren't ready for the first day of school this week. Even some of my plants aren't prepared for the coming arrival of fall. They are still pretending that these last few weeks of warm weather will last forever.
      If only. I know I should try to appreciate winter more for it's frosty reminder of how grateful I should be that summer days are lit brightly and warm and wonderful. But Mr. Frost can kiss Summer's sun warmed...
      Winter is not my favorite season. Perhaps if snow was 'smarter' and would only accumulate on the yard and not on my car. Or if it wouldn't drop to twenty below so the children could actually play in the snow, then I wouldn't be bemoaning- the too soon end -of sunny days. As it is, I am saddened by the 'bloomed' summer and wish it would blossom longer around these parts.

    On another note, why do husbands have to be so frustrating? (Yes, men say that about their wives too and I know, as women we try to say they have nothing to complain about but I will admit, just so hero hottie doesn't think I'm picking on him, that yes sometimes wives can be frustrating too. (Grin)
     But back when I started my blog I asked if I could refer to him by name or would he rather I came up with a nick name for him.
     "I don't want you using my name. Come up with something. I don't care what." He said.
     I thought long and hard and decided on hero hottie because even after over twelve years of marriage I still think he's hot and since most of the stories I write are romantically inclined, I naturally chose something that sounded like a corny romance novel.
     He was okay with this. Not thrilled, even though I called him hot but gave me the go ahead.
     And then I collected readers. In town. That knew him and used his new nickname.
     "Why did you call me..." he bemoaned.
     "Hero hottie?" I supplied when the poor man couldn't even say it aloud.
     "Yes."
     I gave him a mock glare, trying to hide the laughter and not being successful at all. Poor guy, not only did someone call him hero hottie but his wife wouldn't stop laughing over it. "You said I could call you that."
I reminded him.
     "Yes, but I didn't think anyone would actually read your blog."
     Ahhh. I should have been upset. And a little part of me was and as my friend said, 'You could change his name from hero hottie to hero nottie.'
     And on some days I have certainty contemplated it but I think for now I'll just leave it as hero hottie and kindly let him continue enjoying his small claim to celebrity hood. I'm sure he'll get used to it. :)
     

Hazards of Dating a Vampire

       If dating a werewolf isn't thrilling enough for you, than flirt with danger. Date a vampire. They're the ultimate moody hero. Dark. Mysterious. Perhaps just a touch creepy though when they come home in the wee hours of the morning with blood dripping from their fangs. "No, honey. That's just pizza sauce." Yeah, sure it is...


1.   It's hard to hang out together. If he's a 'true-to-the-tale' vampire he can't be exposed to sunlight or your boyfriend will turn into a pile of dust. Talk about ditching out on you. At first, this avoidance of the daytime might not be such a big deal but after a while you might start missing long walks along the shore at sunrise or getting a tan.
      If he just sparkles in the sunlight then the tougher vampires might tease him because I'm still not sure if fierce, blood sucking monsters are suppose to sparkle like someone went crazy with their Bedazzler.
 (Personal opinion, I can't say for sure. They might just be jealous that they can't go in the sunlight too.)

2. He likes to nibble your neck when you're making out. Can you be sure that he's just lovin' or is he tasting?

3. If he's been in high school for over a hundred years there just might be an unresolved maturity issue. I haven't met many people who wanted to be in high school for four years, let along anyone that could stand it for over a hundred years. This problem might even be worse than the guy you dated who played video games all day in his parent's basement...at the age of thirty.

4. You take him over to your parents for dinner and they serve him garlic spaghetti. His hissing, baring fangs and possibly dying is not going to go well. Especially if your family is Italian, then Grandma is going to be insulted forever over the boy who didn't like her spaghetti. What a mess. This is so much worse than when you brought your vegan boyfriend to dinner and he refused to eat the steak.

5. He gets tired of you giving him tan on spray for Christmas presents because the death look just irritates you after a while. 'Really, I know you're like the undead and all, but really the rotting copse look is so yesterday.'

6. He sleeps in a coffin. Really? That's seems so 1950's black and white horror movie. He needs to upgrade to the comforts of modern daily living. Like a bed. With a mattress. Just because he's a monster doesn't mean he shouldn't sleep on something light and fluffy and advertised by little, delicious sheep.

7. He doesn't age and you do. This will cause relationship issues and insecurities without a doubt. There is no use trying to state otherwise, especially when people start to think that you're his Mom...or worse, his grandmother. If you're thinking long term relationship, then think about becoming a vampire too. Just remember it truly bites if you break up later, because you're still a vampire. But hey, you'll look fabulous at your twenty year high school reunion.

8. Blood stains are hard to get out of clothing. Buy him plenty of stain sticks and calmly realize that he may spend more money on clothing than you do.

9. If he's a special, gifted vampire he might have unusual talents, like reading people's mind, leaping around forests, or turning into a bat and ridding the town of mosquitoes. As long as his talents also include doing dishes, making dinner, picking up his dirty socks and remembering your birthday, than give him a break if when you're kissing you find mosquitoes wings in his teeth.

10.  And finally, remember that every once in a while, vampire hunters, mobs of bored townspeople with pitchforks and glowing torches, and other vampires that are just jerks, might want to kill your boyfriend. This is exciting in the movies, not so much fun in real life. Plus, when the house is destroyed you have to deal with insurance companies and they can be worse than the vampire hunters. So it might be a great idea to keep in shape and buy a vampire pit  bull. Nasty creatures, just don't tell your insurance company, the rates are horrible. (Also, don't let your vampire pit bull puppy outside during the day to go potty. Otherwise you'll be cleaning up a pile of ash.)

So dating a werewolf or vampire can be exciting, exhausting and definitely living on the edge. But if that doesn't appeal to you, wait until you hear about the hazards of dating a zombie...