My Real Life

1. Do you wake before the alarm or stay in bed until the last possible second?

Depends on the day and how long it took Tiny to fall asleep the night before.

Normally, I am up before the alarm, and then when it goes off, I ask Real Man to hit snooze and give me just five more minutes.

Logical.

2. Who should get a baby shower? Is it just the first baby or all babies?

I think it’s just for the first baby.

This coming from a mother of four who gave away all of her baby stuff after baby two and had to start all over again for number three.

And then she gave away all of her baby stuff again and had to start all over again for number four.

But I still felt like a shower is only for the first baby.

A baby shower is to help Mom and Dad get the things that they need to bring that baby home.

After that, you’ve got the stuff.

If you pull and Amy and give it all away…then that’s on you.

But people shouldn’t have to keep buying you the same things over and over and over just because you decide to keep having babies.

3. How will you spend Memorial Day?

Hopefully reading, writing, and playing with Real Man and the kids.

I don’t really like to do anything on holidays that fall on a Monday because I have to go back to work the next day.

Lame?

Perhaps.

But that’s how I roll.

4. Do you have a Storm/Hurricane/Tornado/Fire plan for your kids, house..?

We have a meeting place in case we need to get out of the house and the kids know to get to the basement if there is a hurricane/bad storm/tornado.

It makes me sad and a little scared that we’ve had to live through a few of these and that’s how we got to the plans, but I guess that’s life.

However, the kids are all too little, still, to have a “If we are separated and a tornado occurs, here is how to contact each other,” which is the exact plan we need in all of the tornado nightmares I have.

Maybe tonight I’ll dream up a solution to that one.

5. What is your favorite morning drink?

Orange juice.

A nice, tall, cold glass of OJ.

But it’s too high in sugar.

So, decaf green tea, at my writing table, looking out the window.

I know, I know…it didn’t ask for my favorite morning drinking location, but sometimes…I overshare.

People call me a lot of things.

Sentimental isn’t one of them.

People who know me well know that I’m a big mush inside a tough exterior.

I cry in public when I see kids on a leash.

(The previous statement is not meant to start a debate.  It’s just a fact, folks.  I broke down into sobs on a DC trip one year after passing a mother with a little guy on a leash.)

I sobbed messily in the middle of a Social Studies class I was teaching when we made the decision to give our dog away.

Real Man had to get a new shirt after sitting in between Kim and I during Steel Magnolias and I have to actively avoid watching Terms of Endearment or I’m a mess for days.

A mush, for sure.

But sentimental?

No.

I would be the dream person to go on Clean Sweep because I’d let go of everything.

I know the memories are in my head, not in the item.

However, there are a few things that I will never let go of.

Ever.

1.

This was my Grandma’s lemonade/iced tea container.

The top is a plunger that mixes the powder in with the water.

It’s not really efficient for a family of 6 because it only holds two quarts of liquid.

I don’t care.

Every single time I see this in my refrigerator, I think of my Grandma and the summers I spent with her in Ohio, and every time I see my kids using it, I think of how very much she would love my monkeys.

2.

This is (obviously) a bottle of Martinelli’s sparking cider.

We will, most likely, never ever drink it.

However, when Real Man and I bought our first house, the woman we bought it from left this in the fridge for us with a note of congratulations.

This bottle represents the beginning of our married lives together, as we got married a few months after we purchased the house.

I wouldn’t trade the family we have now for the couple we once were, but I remember those days so fondly.

Fondly sounds like I’m remembering my Great Aunt, but I can’t think of another word right now.

It was awesome and they were great times.

There, that’s better.

So, even though we will never drink it, we will also never throw this out.

3.

My parents moved when I was in college.

When they moved, their realtor (who also happens to be Kim’s Mom) had this amazing drawing done of the house they had sold.

The house I grew up in.

When we moved into this, our fourth (and final) home, I asked if I could have it, and they agreed.

Because I loved that house.

I loved that house more than you should ever love something that isn’t alive.

It was old with nooks and crannys and hiding spaces and history and awesomeness.

It’s the house of every single one of my childhood memories and I remember crying when they told me they were moving.

My parents have been in their current house for twenty one years, and it still doesn’t feel like “home” when we go there to hang out.

So, this drawing stays because the building in it was so much more than a house.

It was my home.

4.

My non-sentimentality has me giving away baby things as soon as my babies grow out of them.

Which is why we were in sticky situations when we found out we were (surprise!) pregnant with Baby Monkey and then five years later (surprise!) pregnant with Tiny.

Clothes, accessories, baby ‘stuff’, blankets, you name it.

I got rid of it.

Partially because it wasn’t being used which just made it clutter, but if I’m completely honest, partially because seeing it made me want another baby.

Because I always want another baby.

But, the shop is closed (permanently) so this time, all the baby stuff can go.

These two quilts, though…I will never give away.

The quilt on the left is a quilt that Erin’s Mom sewed for my first baby, who turned out to be Monkey Girl.

It is made up of pieces of dresses that Erin and her sister, Kristin, wore when they were little girls.

All of my babies have slept under this quilt, and Tiny is currently sleeping under it as I type.

I love it.

The quilt on the right was sewn for Tiny by my friend and former colleague, Susan.

Susan sewed this quilt for me after retiring, while packing up her entire house to go sail around the world with her husband.

I know how much Susan loves quilting, but because of my friendship with Susan, I also know how much time goes into making a quilt like this and I will treasure it always.

So, in a year or two, there may be no traces left that any babies were ever swaddled in this house.

But I will always have these quilts, and hope that, one day, my grandbabies sleep under these quilts.

Okay, now that sounded sentimental.

Better quit while I’m ahead.

Having a hard time knowing what to write about today, because I just keep thinking about Oklahoma.

I’ve always been fascinated with tornadoes, and it is a fascination mixed with a very healthy fear.

I have only seen one once.

I was in Indiana, visiting my college boyfriend.

He was at work and I was going to pick him up.

I was driving on a long stretch of road, and everyone suddenly began pulling over and getting out of their cars and pointing.

I looked left and saw a thin funnel cloud making its way across a field.

It wasn’t that far away, and you could see the debris it was kicking up.

However, the people along the road didn’t look too scared, and just as quickly as it had appeared, it went away.

I have always loved the movie Twister.

Not because it was critically acclaimed (it wasn’t) or anything like that.

But because I feel like tornadoes are Mother Nature at her worst.

At her most unpredictable.

At her cruelest.

There is some advanced warning, but not always, and it’s usually not enough.

It’s terrifying.

I went to college and student taught in Ohio, and we had tornado drills where everyone headed to the basement.

There were no tornadoes in the area in the four years I was out there, but I remember those drills and they still give me goosebumps.

I can’t even imagine the terror of hiding in a storm cellar.

Of hearing the sirens.

Of hearing the wind, the debris.

The cone of silence.

Of having to drive into town afterward and find your home, your every possession…gone.

Of not knowing whether or not your children were safe.

Of finding out they weren’t.

I know I can’t just pack up the kids and dig out a bunker and fill it with provisions and never let them out so that nothing every happens to them.

But on days like this, it is exactly what I want to do.

As an adult, I still have nightmares.

More often than I’d like to admit.

And when I do, they are always about tornadoes.

That I am somewhere that my children are not and we are hit by a tornado and I just can’t get to them.

My heart goes out to those in Moore, OK, and throughout the midwest, who were hit by these vicious storms.

I’m just so, so sorry for you all.

I spent last Thursday and Friday in Washington, D.C. with 330 8th graders.

It was a blast.

No lie.

We take the 8th graders to D.C. year after year and it is always so much fun, but it is also a wonderful time for us to create special memories with the kids before they leave us for high school.

330 kids is a lot of children.

Everywhere we go, in D.C., people comment on the size of our group.

And yet, they are also usually the best behaved group at any attraction we visit.

It’s such a blend of kids…homeless with millionaires, jocks with brains, punks with preps.

And it works.

It’s wonderful to see the sights through their eyes.

They marvel at things to which I have long since become immune.

They tear up and show emotion at the same things that make me weep.

The Newseum has a special exhibit on the assassination of JFK, and as I stood and watched the film describing the news coverage surrounding the assassination, I snuck peeks at the faces of my students and they were rapt.

Watching the changing of the guard at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier, my students were silent and respectful and full of awe.

Seeing the sheer amount of names on the wall at the Vietnam Memorial or witnessing the neverending sea of tombstones at Arlington, you could see the human cost of war suddenly becoming real to their young minds.

It’s a trip I have only missed twice since coming to this school…while on maternity leave with Baby and while on maternity leave with Tiny.

And as glad as I was to be home with my babies, a part of me definitely ached to be on the trip with my colleagues and students.

The D.C. trip is a lot of work and a lot of responsibility.

But there are some things in life that are worth the effort.

My job, my students…definitely worth the effort.

Not, “My Space” the old and probably defunct social media website.

I mean my actual space.

My writing space.

My new writing space.

I have a beautiful roll top desk that used to be my Dad’s.

However, it’s right smack dab in the living room and the traffic through the living room is constant in a house with four children.

And, even if there is no one there, it’s not really very inspiring to be facing the wall.

It’s just not.

And, so, and idea blossomed a few months ago, to take a small piece of the office, (which was Real Man’s domain since we moved in) and turn it into a writing space for me.

I needed a desk or table, as the roll top was too big for the space and would cover half of the window I was planning on using.

I needed to clear out that area, because, as you remember, clearing out the office is one of the things on my 20 Wishes for 2013 list.

It’s occupied a lot of my mind over the past few months, even though I wasn’t making any progress toward that end.

Then, on Thursday, I was picking Tiny up from his babysitters and she mentioned that they were having a garage sale on Saturday.

It’s a huge, neighborhood-wide thing.

I said I’d need to get over there because I was looking for a small desk and explained my writing space.

She said, “Wait…come with me,” and took me into the garage and showed me a desk that they were planning on selling.

Small, wooden, well-loved.

Perfect.

I offered to buy it and she offered to give it to me.

I loaded it in the truck, brought it home and it fit perfectly.

Maybe one day I’ll refinish it or paint it or do something with it, but for now, I could care less about it’s appearance.

Because it is just what I was looking for.

I can’t tell you the amount of time I have spent at this table.

Maybe it’s because it’s new and it will wear off, but right now, I. Am. Inspired.

And sometimes…that’s all you need.

I’ve always tried very hard not to project my own “stuff” onto my kids.

I’m terrified of dolls and clowns, but if one of the kids had wanted a clown doll, I wouldn’t have blinked an eye.

I’m allergic to seafood and shellfish, but even though I don’t make it, if it’s being served wherever we are, I encourage the monkeys to try it.

I love a good scare, but two of my monkeys have a fairly low tolerance for the fear, so I don’t watch things that might be too scary for them when they are around.

(I’ve seen way too many parents go the “suck it up…it’s not that scary” route and that never ends well for anyone.)

So, I thought I was doing a good job of not projecting my “stuff” onto the monkeys.

Until last night.

I have to sleep with socks on and I have to sleep under at least one sheet or blanket.

I might kick my socks off while I’m sleeping, but for some reason, it is very difficult for me to fall asleep without socks on.

I can’t even nap just laying on the couch.  I have to be covered by something.

It’s always been this way.

It’s getting warm at night, which is not a good thing for me, because I like a cold bedroom so I can burrow in.

It also makes it difficult, because my socks and my sheets make me hot, but I can’t fall asleep without them.

I persevere and have lived through 41 summers of it, so I know I’ll get by.

And then I go to tuck in the monkeys.

And Monkey in the Middle and Baby Monkey are clad in only their underwear, laying on top of the covers in their respective beds.

“We’re ready for songs, Mom!” they called out.

I sit down on Baby’s bed first and say “Don’t you want me to cover you up?”

“No, it’s too hot,” he replies.

“But you won’t be able to fall asleep!” I respond before I can catch myself.

“Why not?” he asks.

“Oh, nothing…I’m sure it will be fine.”

So, I sing and kiss him and move to his brother’s bed where I do the same, and I leave them both on top of their covers to try to sleep.

But I feel unsettled.

How will they fall asleep?

No socks!  No sheets!  It’ll be impossible!

And so it seems as thought as well as I thought I was doing, there are some things that seem non-negotiable to me in the world of projecting, because if Mama’s gotta have socks and sheets, shouldn’t everyone have to have socks and sheets?

Of course, when I went to check on them in the middle of the night, both were sound asleep.

Under the covers.

Just sayin’.

So, what about you?

Is there anything that is a fear, phobia, tic, quirk of yours that you have tried not to impose on your kids?

Let a sister know she’s not alone!

To all who are or are soon to be Mother’s, here’s hoping you are having a wonderful day!

And to my Mom…Happy Mother’s Day, Mom!

1. What’s the one personal hygiene thing you will not do in front of your spouse?

Nothing.

Are there things that I would prefer not to do in front of Real Man?

Sure.

Is there anything that I won’t do in front of him?

No.

We’ve been married almost fifteen years, dated for nineteen, and have known each other for twenty-five.

There is no mystery left, and yet, the guy seems to still think I’m the most amazing creature ever to walk the earth.

Not sure how in all the billions of people in the world, I found the one who thinks I’m always beautiful, even with all he’s seen of me, but I did.

So, no…there’s nothing.

2. What’s your favorite thing about a newborn?

Their insane newness.

Every single experience is a brand new experience to them.

Oh, wait…actually, my favorite thing is the way that they sleep on you.

Tiny still sleeps on me when he wakes up at 4 am and I bring him to our bed, but that’s a little different, because he drapes himself across my neck like he’s a feather boa, but trust me when I tell you he isn’t even close to being as light as a feather boa.

But a newborn, sleeping on your chest…heaven.

Oh, and that new baby smell?

So much better than a new car smell.

Those little hands!  Those little feet!

Okay, perhaps you can now understand why I have four kids and had to get my tubes tied to make sure I didn’t have any more.

There is NOTHING not to love about a newborn.
3. When is “too young” to have a Facebook account?

I know that you can get a Facebook account at 13, however, I honestly think that you shouldn’t get an account until you are around 16.

I teach 8th grade and even though some of them are bigger than me and have voices deeper than Real Man, they are babies.

Wonderful babies, but babies, nonetheless, and they don’t quite have a full grasp of the fact that whatever gets put on the internet stays there.

Forever.

That goes for words, as well as images, and I think it’s just a bad idea until they are about 16.

That’s the age that they really start to consider the future and recognize the consequences of actions.

I would go as high as 21, but I realize that might be pushing it.

4. What are your hoping for for Mother’s Day?

Honestly?

Just a low key day.

I would love if the laundry would get done without me doing it, the groceries would get bought without me buying them, I could catch up on Scandal, the kids wouldn’t fight, and we could just relax together.

I’m a simple girl.
5. What was the best field trip you ever took in school?

We didn’t really take a lot of field trips when I was in school.

I go to the middle school that I attended, and I am in charge of organizing the 8th grade trip to DC.

We didn’t go to DC when I was there.

So, school related, I guess the best one was our trip to the Statue of Liberty.

While I was in school, the best field trip I ever took (even though it wasn’t related to school, but to church) was a handbell choir tour to Bermuda.

Although, our tour to Michigan was pretty awesome as well.

Ooh, and the one to Virginia where Kim and I were attacked by bats while we were swimming in a pool at night and we held our breath and held hands under the water because we were so terrified.

Oh, and the youth group work projects to Tennessee.

Yeah, my church field trips were awesome.

This week I’ll be sharing some very special Mother’s Day e-Cards for the Real World created by Rants from MommyLand and Mommy Land on my blog and on Facebook.

The more we all share them, the more money SweetRelish.com will donate to Shelter House, an organization that provides transitional housing and services for families experiencing homelessness and domestic violence.  As an educator, I have been touched by so many children whose families needed a service like this, and so I am excited to be able to help in this way.

And I’m hoping that you’ll help, too.

If you like it, then YOU please share it on your blog, Facebook, Twitter, or on Pinterest.  If together we reach 100K shares of all the images combined, SweetRelish will donate $10,000 to Shelter House.

So, please…enjoy and share.

Click the eCard below to go to the site and see all 14 eCards and get all of the details.