Forget the groom...I got the best man!

This is in the back yard of the house we(Michael and I)bought together. It was and remains one of those rare perfect days. It was 76 and sunny with a breeze blowing through the tents. We were surrounded by everyone we loved.
I was no different than any other girl growing up picturing a perfect wedding to my Prince Charming...oh, no, wait, that really wasn't me. I had thought by the time I was 20 years old that I would never get married. I had no desire for a big wedding and look like a human pile of meringue. I thought taking a man's name was a sign of weakness. I had a bank account started so I could use IVF in order to have a child.
When I was very small I did believe in fairytales, but I learned by the ripe old age of about 13 that real relationships are hard. I had no want to be discarded along with the wedding decorations a few months after the ceremony. What I found out about me was I made a terrible girlfriend and a great girl friend. I was a much better friend than a romantic partner.
I unfortunately lost sight of that a few times with disasterous results. My first marriage being one of them. I got married the first time at 23 years old. I knew nothing and insisted I knew exactly what I was doing. I didn't want all the pomp and circumstance of the "Wedding". I went along to get along and resented it for the next 9 years. Everytime I looked at the pictures all I saw was waste. I promised myself I would not yield again to such nonsense.
Guess what? I had another big wedding. I married the confirmed bachelor. Michael was 41 when we got married so everybody and their brother wanted to see it. It was upsetting to me that I had to dawn the uncomfortable dress and stand in front of people I didn't know reminding myself to unlock my knees. I dreaded the whole thing. Michael was my very best friend so we talked about the wedding and how he wanted it done. My opinion carried little weight because it had been put to me by others, that I had already had a wedding. They were right, I had a wedding from before and I hadn't wanted that one either. What's a nonCinderella girl supposed to do? Well, the wedding was fine. I just kept my focus on Michael. He was the only reason I was there. I nearly ran down the isle to him and I couldn't keep from smiling. All I could think of was I would have walked through glass to get to him. In the end the families got to see us and eat cake. This is a satisfactory end, but I was still miffed that I had to have another big wedding. I talked to Michael about it told him it wasn't worth going out and finding another husband to get what I wanted. I was joking, of coarse, but he knew what I meant.
On our first anniversary my husband gave me the wedding of my dreams. Michael wore a suit and I wore a simple dress. I carried pink long stem roses as we walked arm and arm down the isle of the church in front of NOONE. The priest performed a simple service and we wrote our own vows. We put the camera on the top of the pew and squeezed in for a single snap shot. After my wedding we went out to our favorite resaurant and had dinner. We walked on the pier after we had finished eating and headed back home to the kids. I wasn't a princess. I was a 38 year old woman promising to love my best friend for the rest of my life. And instead of getting the picture perfect plastic groom from on top of the cake, I got something so much better. It turned out I got the best man.

Sack Cloth and Ash Wednesday

Yesterday was Ash Wednesday. It's a big holiday for Christians, but us catholics, take it way too far. With incense flying and smudged foreheads we then proceed to starve and have a light fish dinner. Actually, it's a lovely tradition if you have all your ducks, uh, tuna, in a row. I did not. I never seem to be able to keep up with holidays, holy days and all the other days. I had not gone to the store in preparation for Wednesday. I had originally thought it was the perfect time to stay home because we are supposed to fast anyway. Wrong! I went to my nearly empty cupboard,(I gave up hoarding for lent), and all I had was some rice, a single can of tuna and some frozen peas. It did not conjure the image of a delicious yet simple dinner. What I did see was what looked akin to dog food or canned cat food that smelled only slightly better. The two teens were home and I needed to sell this dish as a planned dinner, rather than an "Oh Crap!" mistake. I mixed all my beige ingredients and stared at the lonely green color of the peas. It looked disgusting, even to me, who was starving. I tasted it and made that "I am eating cardboard" face. I scoured the refrigerator for anything to add to make this better.
As I looked at the shelves I spied the meat drawer. I knew that any meat would make this better, especially the bacon I had tucked away. I wanted to try and play this straight so I kept looking. I spotted the bag that held the cheese ration I keep on hand. I grabbed the Asiago and knew I had found my way out of texture without taste. I generously grated enough Asiago cheese over the tuna, rice, pea whatever it was and covered it until all that could be seen was cheese. We had salad and cheese gunge. This would be my first sacrifice in the Lenten season. I called the kids down for dinner and acted as if all were normal. My poker face was pasted on tight. I could not show fear or ambiguity about this meal or I would be double teamed into ordering cheese pizza. I never flinched while they inspected the beige casserole plopped on their plates. I simply began to eat and say nothing. It seemed to work because I looked up through my bangs, in a sneaky mom way, to see they were eating without complaint. We had a quiet dinner and afterward they put their dishes in the dishwasher and went back up to their caves for the rest of the evening.
After dinner I felt like I owed God one and spent some time reflecting on all I am thankful for.
I smiled to myself very quietly, as to not to disturb the teenagers, about how we had experienced the first miracle of the season. While we didn't exactly have a fishes and loaves moment, we had a no complaint dinner moment. This for me only happens on high holy mom holidays. It is in the same realm of "the first day back to school full time" holiday when I run around the house naked singing The Who and Eric Clapton.
Tomorrow, to reward my little band of faithful, I will go to the store and buy actual recognizable food.

Living On the Cheap

Aren't we a beautiful family? Well, yes, we were. We however didn't have a pot to pee in. We didn't know enough back then to realize we weren't supposed to be happy. Go us.
I was a single mother for a long time. Money was scarce. While my salary was embarrassing, I was able to figure out that money may make the world go around, it didn't have define us as a family.
Step one-if you don't have money you don't have to be depressed, just creative. Don't have a creative bone in your body? You don't need one right away. It's a muscle that can be flexed and increased over time. I got a "D" in home economics. I would love to see that teacher again and show her that while in 9th grade I couldn't make pancakes, I can now recreate any dinner from any restaurant in town. I learned how to make what we needed or create stuff from things we already had. For example, my youngest needed a Halloween costume in 10 minutes because I had forgotten all about the party she was to go to for Brownies. We grabbed her sisters first communion dress and slapped it on her, put a plastic "engagement" ring on her finger and pulled the silk flowers out of a vase and sent her on her way in 10 minutes flat, just in time for her ride. She was the loveliest 5 year old bride anyone has ever seen.
Step two-shop in your own place. Check cupboards, dressers and closets to see what you have. Be sure you are not buying things you already own. Have bags and boxes of crap you don't need or use anymore? Pull it all out and take a long hard look at it. What can you make with it? If your imagination goes blank then check the internet. Old clothes can be turned into a family quilt. Old lamps can be painted and new shades cost very little. Paint is God's gift to us to renew old crap and make us feel better. Have several buckets of old paint, but not enough to use on a single project? Mix the paint and create a whole new color. As long as it is the same base either oil or latex, go crazy and make your own color, then name it after yourself. I did this and had enough to paint a bathroom. Mine was Sunny Kellie Yellow.
No more excuses about not being able to think things up to reuse. recycle and reduce waste. If you have a computer you have ideas.
Step three-life isn't perfect. Enjoy homemade, imperfect stuff. If you have kids you already do this with their artwork and gifts. I mean, really, how many paper angels do you really need? Kids don't need the very best. They just need you. Make stuff for your kids that mean something only to you and them. They will gladly sport that misshapen sweater you knitted for them, because you made it. Don't try this with teenagers. It only works for the kids that are still small enough to think the sun rises and sets for you.
Teenagers require a little more thought, not to be confused with stuff. Make a scrap book that is all about them. Ignore the faces they make at you and watch them as they put it next to their bed, so they can peruse it when you aren't looking. The narcissistic creatures that took over your small children want to be validated, so give it to them in the form of simple gifts and stop their whining.
This is only the beginning. Living without tons of expendable cash is easy. Dusting all the crap you have bought is hard.

I'm a hypocrit, kinda

I am about to have my first book published and in it I talk about blogging and how I didn't do it. I didn't do it at the time. I couldn't even get on my computer due to my previous job and the teenagers who took my house hostage. I am technologically retarded. I speak of that in the same chapter. My only reference to technology was my cell phone that only rang when I went to the grocery store and the computer that was always occupied except in the very wee hours of the morning. Yes, I now get up at 3:00 AM to use it. I hate confrontation-don't judge me.
I had nothing against blogging per say because I had no experience with it. I still have to write the bulk of my stuff on paper. I plant trees every year-don't judge me. My geek- go-to son went off to college and now works for his university. I hear mothers everywhere pondering how wonderful that is. It kinda isn't. I now have no help when I get stuck on this contraption which is about 3 times a day. Sssshhhhh. I am rationalizing my bad behavior. I'm trying to gain pity so the whole hypocrit thing may disappear. If only...

It was unthinkable unless you were me...

It was unthinkable in 1990's that this country would be in such a financial mess unless you were me. I'll be honest, I saw it coming and like Henny Penny I walked around talking about it all the time. People thought I was losing my mind. They were all doing so well, how could that possibly be? Simple, I was the working poor back then. I would have literally had more money on welfare, but my mid western work ethic prevented it. I was making 28k working two jobs as a nurse (LPN in nursing homes--socialized medicine at it's finest). I asked who was buying the astronomical amount of houses going up? I asked how people had so much expendable income while a respectable percentage of us were scraping by. The answers came last year in the form of paper tigers and money for nothin'. I saw it coming like a tidal wave. When you are on the bottom you have a clear view to the top. I am not scared. I survived tumors, heartbreak and miscarriages. I had to sell off my home to pay off medical bills. My four kids and I lived 2 1/2 years with no health insurance. Nuclear holocaust could come and go and it will be me and the cockroaches! My daughter who is a junior in college is grateful we were poor. She called and said, "Thank God we never had much. These other people don't know how to act, now." I'll get through this because I have been living it all along. Being poorer isn't bad, being stupid and just following along is so much worse.
I will be giving real tips about how to survive on less and like it in later blogs. It can be done. It can be fun.

I find myself in the unique position of not fitting in with my peers. Yeah, right like a band geek has ever fit in. That's right, a band geek. That includes college. Only in college i was only 6 degrees away from being cool. i was that kid that was always wearing last decades clothes. Now instead of clothes it's the internet. i have 4 adult and nearly adult kids who can do anything on the internet while i am still struggling how to fully use my email. It's humiliating. i noticed as i type i often use the lower case i when speaking in first person. It's quite unintentional but i believe it says volumes of where i stand inside technology. It's all very Freudian.
The goal is to continue to write my big self important thoughts on my spiral notebook with the pen that my dog chewed up and then transcribe them here where i will butcher them into cyberspace with bad typing and knotted feet. One day very soon i will fit in just in time for this to all morph into something quite different like tapping brain waves with little wires implanted by computer geeks in mega marts instead of this archaic thinking and typing. For now I will continue to feel like such a baby...