Manuals for the Living

My brain sometimes thinks sideways and upside down, and as crazy as it may sound backwards periodically. Most generally, my husband and I have completely opposite views. His is more in a straight tidy well organized line, with labels and tabs and an index Incase you get lost. Baffles my mind to bits. My line zig zags circles around and around comes back this way then back that way, you get the idea, and I guarantee you I drive him insane. I think he is so hard to read and figure out and that I am an open book, he sees it the other way around.

So, my mind gets to wandering. What if we all came with a manual when we were born. What if. Let’s say that manual covered absolutely everything about you and your life. In general terms. This manual covers everything from how you were going to be birthed to how you were going to die and everything in between. Again, in generalizations, like you would reach the height of 5’2 before you reach adulthood, but will shrink to the height of 4’8 before your death. With no specifics such as you will reach 5’2 in the 5th grade and appear to be an Amazon woman towering above all your classmates, however; they will all pass you up one day. And you will have 3.2 children before the age of 40 but no more specifics, especially what the heck the .2 is. You will be born in the back seat of a car ( which I was not) and you will die in the back seat of a car. No specifics again, just general information. You will obtain x amount of schooling. You get the idea. All generalized info. With some added things such as say, you will be deathly allergic to chocolate. Just enough information to not be enough information.

Would you want to have this manual for any reason? Would you want it to help you with the early years of being a new parent? If you did accept the manual to help you with the early years with your babies, would you want to pass the manual on to them as they got older, if so, when would you pass it on to them? If you made the decision to not pass it on to them, and they learn upon having their own child that there is such a manual; what would you say to them then?

I have thought and thought about this. I have known several people who have committed suicide. Had they had manuals that stated their lives would end by their own hand, would it have changed things? Would they have taken their lives sooner? Or never?

There are times I think I wish I could go back to a certain time in my life and know what I know now. But if I could do that how would it make my life different now? My guess is, it would change it but not for the better. I know someone who was constantly trying to find a way to get rich, had a law suit against a former employer, netted him far less then he had hoped. Had another law suit against a driver who rear ended him, still had to work. Then one day while out on his Harley a little old lady crossed the Center line and struck him. He fought for his life. Lost a leg. Mangled him up really bad. Was in the hospital forever it seemed then rehab, and still had troubles today with his prosthetic leg. But, he’s a millionaire-ish now. If he’d have had a manual, how would that have changed his look at life?

I’ve learned that we go through the crazy things and the bad things and even the good things to better ourselves. Learn lessons from those things. Move forward. If we have a manual that guides us, where would we really end up? Better? Worse?

I’m good with who I am now. I’m not perfect, but I’m a better person then I use to be. And I went through a lot of shit to get here. Not all bad shit. And not all someone else’s shit, I stirred just as much as anyone else did. So I think for me, I wouldn’t want that manual. Because it would make me afraid. Afraid to live each day to it’s fullest. Afraid to take chances when maybe I can’t really afford them. Afraid to laugh or afraid to cry. And that’s certainly not living.

So, I’m gonna keep on living each day as God gives it to me, thanking him all the way. And I’m going to keep screwing up and praying He helps me through it!!!

✌🏼😘

It’s What We Do

I want to take this time to talk to you about Real Housewives. By REAL, I mean REAL.

We all know all the different shows from all the different large cities…. ” Real Housewives of……” I loved those shows. Was addicted to those shows. Oh my GAWD I wanted to be IN one of those shows. I watched every single one of them, back when I was a Stay -At-Home Mom. I got sucked in by all the glamor and glitz. I did not know a soul, housewife, working mom, stay-at-home mom NO ONE who even came close to anyone of these woman. At the time, I lived in a trailer. YUP, Mobile HOME, had wheels on the bottom. I always thought ” you want housewife, come to the 47666 and follow me around, our shopping sprees takes us to Goodwill!”

I am not going to talk anymore about those house wives because someone somewhere will certainly get their feelings hurt and I have nothing anyone else would want to sue me for!

In my life, I work full time outside of our home. I take care of all the bills, finances, housework, kids things, mowing, pretty much everything except working on the appliances and vehicles; which usually I call someone to come and do. My husband, he just gets to go to work and that is it! And I am jealous of that sometimes. I will tell you, I screw up our account at least twice a year. And he gets so mad at me each time I swear he is going to divorce me. He thinks I am spending large amounts on STUFF when what it always comes down to is, I got lazy or sick or behind or all the above and stopped keeping track of what was going where who was spending what on what and why and just watched the balance until it got to the OH SHIT level. It makes me sick to my stomach just thinking about it now, but it is going to happen again, I guarantee you. He refuses to help me, says I won’t learn how to do it and do it right until I keep doing it. What sense does that even make? UGH!

I can not tell you how many pizzas I have burned because I am tired and get side tracked when I go into the other room to fold laundry and throw it on everyone’s beds. I can set the timer on the stove and swear it’s the dryer yelling at me and at that moment I just do not care that the clothes are dried. Then finally someone yells ” WHAT’s ON FIRE!” In our first few years in our house we had ADT. I can only imagine how many bets went on when our house came up on screen as having a fire. Our towns 911 dispatch operator would call me personally to see if there really was a fire or if it was just me cooking again. My husband was mortified by it. I thought it was funny. I mean why in the hell did they put the smoke alarm 3 feet from the stove in the first place.

I can make a Sears service man cry. At one point he threw up his hands and said ” I give up” at which point he declared our washing machine ” uneconomical to repair”; and Sears issued us a full refund on the machine, PLUS what we paid for the warranty. The machine in question was only six months old and I had somehow managed to blow apart the concrete arm that held the tub in place. True story. That was six years ago. In that six years we have gone through three more washers. My husband and the lady who owns our local Sears Home Store went round and round about my abilities to operate the machines correctly. Her loss, we now purchase our appliances from Menards.

I think about all the things that I have gotten myself into, and out of. From the things listed above to ruined laundry, lost pets, broken hearts, skinned knees, first days of kindergarten to graduation days, science projects gone wrong to better grades now then I got when I was in school. There are days I am so tired I don’t know if I should cry, laugh or scream. I have many days when I REALLY want a margarita. Then I think of all the butterfly kisses, stomps in the mud puddles, laughs until we cried, sleepless nights, early mornings, drives through the country until a very sleepy someone falls asleep…………. Then I think of all the times I wished time away and I cry. My soul cries. My heart cries.

All the things I wish I could undo or take back, erase and move on from. It’s all part of being a mom, a wife, a housewife, mother, disciplinarian, cook, referee, boo boo kisser, laundry sorter, dishwasher, hair fixer, tear drop catcher……how ever you want to classify me, I gladly accept the job. Yes, there are still going to be days I wish I lived at the beach, I am always going to want to live at the beach, but I want to drag all my little bugs with me. I love my life, however you categorize it. And the more I go over all those little things, and big things we do and will continue to do as REAL HOUSEWIVES, I wouldn’t trade any of it to be big and fancy and controversial, ( which for some reason reminds me of when Chloe and I went into a second hand store a while back and she said to me, ” isn’t this for poor people?” and we both looked up and saw a purse with a huge price sign that said $700 USED……she looked at me and we both laughed…..who in their right minds pays $700 for a used purse????) So, I will probably keep on complaining at times, bragging at times, and planning a life I will never have on a beautiful tropical island, but I love being the housewife for the husband and children, and house I have.

 

 

 

Sports Bra Dance

Whomever designed the original sports bra actually meant for it to be a torture device. It’s the most miserable thing to put on and even more miserable to attempt to take off, especially if you really did work out.

So this weekend I was trying to put mine on. 🤨 You see I said ” trying”, right? First let me tell you about my Sports Bra. I got it from Victoria Secrets a couple of years ago. Yes, I said VS. No, I do not have itty bitty tittys that only need band aids. This is the absolute BEST one I have ever had. A HUGE selling point was it zips up the front! Another it comes in bra sizes and finally it actually holds my sisters in place! Very very little bounce! I love this bra.

BBUT, this weekend I was having major issues. I’m in our bedroom half naked trying over and over and over to get this damn thing zipped. I’ve pulled and I’ve pushed and I’ve stuffed like you wouldn’t believe. I’ve jiggled and wiggled and tried stuffing again. I’ve turned side ways and the other side ways and half way around and tried stuffing AGAIN! I’ve preformed a few off balanced moves and jiggled some more. The damn zipper just will not cooperate. Won’t budge. And I’m mad.

At this point my husband walks in. He says ” what in the hell are you doing?” 😳 ” Well, I am trying to put this damn bra on and it refuses to zip!” So, he thinks he can help. ” let me try” he says. Sure why not at this point whatever works! He tries and tries and then says ” well stuff them in some more” So, I try to stuff. Which I have to tell you, that was not the problem but for some reason both of us thought if I SMASH them in, the zipper will work. I don’t know why this was part of our thought process but it was. When that didn’t work he says ” well you are just going to have to take it off zip it up and then put it on” To which I said ” are you crazy? The whole reason I bought this was so I didn’t HAVE to put this on over my head!” He tells me I need to just buy a new one. Sure that’s a great idea but that doesn’t help me NOW! He then asks ” well are you going to work out NOW?” ” No, I’m not going to work out NOW” he then asks ” well why are you putting it on?” ” because I’m going out to work in the yard and I want to wear this ( holding up a cool clearance find at the Nike outlet – a tankish kind of top) and I can’t wear my regular bra with it that would look dumb” he said a few choice cuss words then said ” ok I’m going to hold this together and you pull” 😬 GOT IT! WooHoo! WooHoo! Team effort to get the sports bra on! His parting words to me were ” you’re something else” 😂😘

Yes, yes I am and he wouldn’t trade me or my Sports Bra Dance for anything else……. I don’t think !

✌🏼 Julesb6a81c34c848b09c79697df3d2cee22c