My Real Life

I have a few people that are the absolute loves of my life.  Real Man and the monkeys are obvious, however, there are three other people who have been continual loves of my life.

Kim, Erin, Michaela and I have been friends for 30 years.  I am the only child of two only children and therefore, my friends became my family.  These three women have been the most consistent presence in my life since I was 8 years old.

When I was 8, my Dad left the church he had been preaching at to a new church in a different town.  We moved in January, days after my 8^th birthday.  So, not only was I the new kid, but I was the new kid, mid-year. 

On the first day I went to my second grade class in my new school, I turned around to the girl sitting behind me and said, in my toughest, badass 8-year old voice, “Where’s the scissors?”  Erin pointed to the scissors and quickly became my best friend. 

This is Erin:

She is absolutely beautiful, inside and out.  She’s brilliant and funny and I’m sad that she lives a few hours away.  She is currently staying at home with her two sweet little girls and working at Bloomingdale’s on the weekends.  Prior to raising her family, she was a bigwig accountant for a variety of different companies, including Ernst and Young.  She’s awesome.

Not in my second grade class, but in my Brownie troop, was another girl.  Man, could this girl network.  Even in second grade, she could work the crowd, networking her way around the elementary school.  Everyone knew who she was and I, too, soon fell under her spell.  As we got older, Kim also became a best friend.

This is Kim and Erin and I:

No surprise, my networking friend is now the National Account Director for Yahoo! and lives in the city.  Kim is strong, independent and just fabulous.  She always makes me laugh, and I’m not the only one.  A few years ago, she won 10 stand-up comedy lessons at a Yahoo! benefit auction.  The class ended with the students doing stand-up at a comedy club in the city.  If you’ll pardon my language for a moment, Kim’s routine kicked ass.   She seriously needs to do more of this. 

Michaela and I met when we were little, but didn’t become best friends until middle school.   She sat behind me in Algebra and instead of taking notes, we’d make up stories and draw pictures and pass notes.  We were inseparable for quite some time.

This is Michaela and Erin:

Times are never dull with Michaela.  She had a wandering spirit as a kid and she still has it today.  She’s the most creative person I’ve ever known.  She’s an artist, photographer, and creative genius.  As an adult, she’s started her own company, Briefcase to Backpack, as well as a website that sells her art, Wanderlust Productions. 

These three women and I have been through everything together.  Pigtails and Brownie troops to youth group and church choir.  First cars, first accidents.  First boyfriends, first broken hearts.  We’ve hugged each other, we’ve slapped each other.  But always, we come back to each other.  We’ve traveled together with our handbell choir, visiting Michigan, Ohio, Pennsylvania, Delaware, Maryland, Virginia, Tennessee, Texas, Canada, Bermuda and a variety of other places together.  In our senior yearbook, students had the option to buy a senior page that they could fill with pictures and memories.  The four of us had to buy two pages and still had to leave hundreds of memories out.  We’ve been through marriages, parental divorces, childbirth, and every other experience you can imagine together.

Real Man often comments how rare it is to have one friend who you’ve known for 30 years and still remained this close with.  Make it 3 friends and you realize that your luck is overflowing.  These women are more than family to me, because I’m not stuck with them.  You can never escape your family.  They are a part of you through blood.  These women are my family by choice, and to me, that is ever so much more special.

Our lawnmower broke today.  Our grass is pretty long, due to our being out of town and then the rain and then Real Man having to work all week.  So, he went to mow today and found that the lawnmower won’t work.  So, in desperation, he “mowed” the lawn with the weed wacker.  We do not have a small yard.

This did not make him happy.  In fact, I think you can safely say that Real Man was pretty angry about the whole lawn situation today.

And still…

When I went out to see how he was doing, this is what I found in the backyard:

I think…I think…he loves me. 🙂

So, this year, we got a great deal on beach house in North Carolina.  Our vacations have always been limited to the Jersey Shore, so when we saw how reasonable the price was, we knew we had to go for it.

Our original plan was to put the kids to bed, pack the car, and sleep until 3 am.  Then, we were going to wake up, carefully carry the kids from their beds to the car, sure not to wake them, and start driving. 

By the time Friday night rolled around, however, we realized that we were definitely not going to be up for driving ten hours after sleeping for a few, so we modified our plan.  Now, we decided, we would put the kids to bed, but we would stay up, then at midnight, we’d carefully carry the kids from their beds to the car, sure not to wake them, and start driving.  Better plan.  However, as always happens, life had another plan.

We put the kids to bed at 9:00.  (On the weekends, they all have sleepovers in Monkey Girl’s room.  They can stay up until 9:00, watch movies in the basement, and have popcorn.)  Real Man and I packed the car, and sat down to watch some television.  Then the visits began.

9:10 – Monkey Girl comes down to say she can’t sleep because she is so excited.  We tell her to go back to bed because she’s going to keep her brothers up.

9:20 – Baby Monkey comes down to say he can’t sleep because he is so excited.  We tell him to go back to bed because he’s going to keep his brother and sister up.

9:30 – Monkey in the Middle comes down to say he can’t sleep because he is so excited.  We tell him to go back to bed because he’s going to keep his brother and sister up.

And so it goes until 10:30, when Real Man and I looked at each other and said, “Let’s go.”

So, we packed the kids in the car, snuggled tight in their pillows and blankets, and off we went.

We figured that, certainly, they’d all be asleep within the hour.  Oh no…they were up and up and up and up.  Baby Monkey was the last to fall asleep at 1:15 am. 

With the new quiet in the car, Real Man and I knew we had to do something to stay awake.  So, we started scanning the radio stations.  Friday night is 80’s night, pretty much everywhere, apparently, and so we had a great time singing along with some of our 80’s favorites.  Real Man almost ran off the road several times as I regaled him with my version of the lyrics to many of our favorite songs. 

Example:  Flashdance.  You know when she sings “Take your passion and make it happen?”  Yeah, I always thought it was “Take your pants down and make it happen.”  Growing up, I thought it was a dirty, dirty song.  Turns out, not so much.

When Irene Cara sings out “Being’s believing,” I thought it was “Beans believing.”  It didn’t make any sense.  Maybe there were some sentient beans out there in the welding world where Jennifer Beals was working and they were believing in her talent.  I don’t know.  Still, it worked for me. 

There were others, but I’d like to maintain my dignity awhile longer.

So, we kept driving.  We were really surprised by the amount of traffic on the road at 3 am.  I mean, where were these people going?  Who, in their right mind, would be driving through Maryland at 3 am???

There were some interesting street names we passed on our way.  My favorite was Backlick Road.  How does that not sound like a comeon when someone asks you where you live?  “Backlick Road, baby… come on by.”  Ick.

I started to fade and Real Man was anxiously trying to engage me in conversation, when Angel Eyes by the Jeff Healey Band came on.  LOVE that song.  So, that woke me right up, particularly when it was followed by the Hooters with And We Danced.  Those kids slept through Real Man and I singing some of these songs at the top of our lungs.  Or, maybe they were just pretending to sleep, embarassed that passing cars might think they were actually with us.

One of my new favorite songs I’m Your’s by Jason Mraz was played approximately 14 times on our 10 hour trip.  That made me happy.  By time number 4, I don’t think it was making anyone else happy.

Around 4 am, we decided to switch drivers, and I took over.  I love driving Real Man’s truck, but I’m always a little overwhelmed with it.  He drives a Ford Expedition, and next to that, my Dodge Caravan Minivan is like a Smart Car.  I’m queen of the road in that Expedition, but I can never quite tell if I’m driving in the lines.  I mean, my God, I’m fifty feet above the road in that thing.  Who can tell where they are?

At 4:52 am, I had a complete out of body experience.  At 4:52 am, we had 452 miles to go, according to Real Man’s GPS.  Trust me, at 4:52 am, that was the absolute coolest thing I had ever seen.

So, while Real Man had been driving, he had mentioned that some of the stuff in the back of the truck was positioned so that, in the dark, it looked like Yoda.  I looked back, from the passenger seat, and didn’t see it.  From the drivers seat, it was uncanny.  Our sheets and pillows were Yoda.  So, around 5:00 am, we started to entertain ourselves talking like Yoda.  “Getting close, we are,” and “Sustenance we need.”   Again, very funny at 5 am after driving all night.

At 5:11 am, we passed into North Carolina and at that point, the music moved to ballads of the 80’s.  We were rocking out to Missing You by Tom Waite and Making Love Out of Nothing At All by Air Supply.  There were many, many more, but again, to preserve our integrity, I don’t think I’ll go through the full list.

By 7:17 am, we needed gas…badly.  So, we stopped at a gas station, and as we opened the doors, we were greeted with some lovely Frank Sinatra-type music blasting from speakers.  We began our fill-up to The Wee Small Hours of the Morning and finished up with Three Coins in the Fountain.  It was the most melodic fill-up I’ve ever experienced.  At this point, the kids were up and were sure we were going to get in trouble for touching the gas pumps.  In NJ, there is no self-service.  It’s actually illegal, if I remember correctly.  So, this is something the kids have never seen before.  Not to worry, though…we pump a mean tank of gas.

We got back in the car, and were greeted with Drew Talks which is another favorite of mine.   At this point, Baby Monkey started in with “I’m staaaaaaaaaarving,” and so we decided to stop for breakfast.  We saw a sign for a Waffle House, and thought, ‘Waffle House…sounds like a good breakfast place.’

So, we pull in.  We should have known there would be a problem as soon as we approached the restaurant and saw the windows streaming with condensation, as if there had been a summer storm.  But, at this point, we’d been up for a little more than 24 hours, and we weren’t quite thinking straight. 

We went in.  It was 30 degrees in that restaurant.  We tried to find a booth that wasn’t directly under a vent, but when we looked up, we saw that just about every ceiling tile was a vent.  This gave Real Man and I a case of the No-Sleep-Giggles.  Then, we sat down.  There was no table or booth big enough to accommodate all 5 of us, so I smushed with the boys on my side and Real Man and Monkey Girl smushed on the other.  The waitress came over and took our order. 

When she asked, in her very pronounced southern accent, if we wanted bacon with our eggs, Baby Monkey said, in his loudest voice, “Mama, why’d she say baaaaycon?  Why’d she say baaaaaycon?”  I started to try to shush him, but I made the mistake of looking at Real Man who was shaking with laughter, and I started laughing as well, while shooting Baby Monkey the sternest look I could manage at that point.  The waitress was quite gracious, realizing, I think, that we were way out of our element.

It’s entirely possible that at this point, we looked like this:

It was at this point that Baby Monkey started in with his daily round of questions.  He began with asking if syrup was made out of orange juice, and finished up with asking something about toilet paper.  It’s a wonder Real Man and I were able to eat anything, as we couldn’t stop with the sleep-deprived laughter.  We must have looked like two insane people, and I’m surprised none of the other customers took the kids and refused to let us drive anywhere with them.

However, we got back in the car, drove away, and about an hour later, arrived at our destination.  It was a beautiful day, so we hit the beach as soon as we unpacked.  We were dragging, and when the kids went to bed, we went to bed, but it was a great trip. 🙂

I guess if you are going to be reading about us, you should be able to put a face with the names. 

Here is our first character…I affectionately call her Monkey Girl.

She is 8 and is honestly the sweetest, kindest, smartest, best girl I know.  If I were 8, you can be sure I’d be clamoring to be her best friend.  She’s kind to everyone, almost to a fault, and is a wonderful big sister.  She’s generally fearless, and is just an all-around great kid.  Love her!

Next, we have Monkey in the Middle.

This guy is the biggest snuggler I have ever known.  He’s not truly happy until he is completely snuggled up against me.  He’s 5 and he’s funny, he’s smart and he loves his mama.  Being the middle child definitely has some challenges, and he’s struggling with them, but he’s working through it and is going to come out just fine.  Love this guy!

Finally, we have Baby Monkey.

We are well aware, even at 3, that when he graduates from high school, this kid is going to be the Class Clown.  He’s just darn funny.  He talks constantly.  He questions constantly.  It’s either, “Mommy…look at this,” or “Mommy, is syrup made out of orange juice?” or “Mommy, I’m gonna take this over here because, because, because, because, because, because I like to walk over here.”  He’s a big lovey, and carries his sisters baby doll around the house, quietly singing to it and loving it.  I love this guy.

To protect the innocent, I won’t be using real names…at least not the real names of the family.  Because he wouldn’t like it, I also won’t be using pictures of my husband.  I’ll just call him, Real Man.  ‘Nuff said.

And, then there’s me…

Oh, I’m sorry…I get confused sometimes. 

Actually, I like to stay behind the camera, so there probably won’t be many shots of me.  However, I’m up at the top of the page, and may show up every now and then in a shot with the monkeys. 

Anyone else who appears here has given their permission.  I’m heading to a girls weekend with my oldest (not in age, but in length of friendship) and dearest friends, and am hoping that they’ll let me photograph and talk about them.  Pictures of my beautiful friends would definitely up my readership!

So, for now, that’s our cast of characters.  You’ve got some names and faces and you’ll get to know us well; probably better than you want to.

So, here we are…

I’m a writer.  It’s what I love to do.  So, blogging has always seemed natural for me.  I have a blog here about my novel that I’m trying to get published, and I have a blog here, where I tried to write about things that I thought people might want to read.  However, in the end, they always say you should write what you know.  What do I know?  I know about my life.

Again, I could blog just for myself and my family, but the truth is, I’m human.  I want to know that what I produce is being appreciated.  So, I’ve decided to write about my life as a working mom.  I know, I know…before people start throwing shoes and dishtowels at me, I realize that all mom’s “work.”  However, I mean, my life as a mom of three who works full-time outside of the home.  I still have all the “MOM” stuff to do, but I have to smush it into a smaller time frame.

Thus, My Real Life is born.  I figure, I’ll blog here about what goes on in my life, and you can read it.  I’ll warn you in advance, I’m not gonna sugarcoat what happens in my life.  There are days when being a working mom is stressful.  There are other days when being a working mom is fantastic.  That’s life.  My kids are great, and at the same time, my kids are kids.  They have ups, they have downs.  They are hysterical.  Also, I’m not just a Mom.  I’m a wife and a woman, as well.  So, be prepared to hear it all (well, almost all of it) and I hope you enjoy!