Tag: attitude

I woke up alone

theycallmebetty2 Comments

I awoke this morning to an empty bed.  It was cold, I had unknowingly acquired all the pillows and I was unsure of my location.  After flopping around a bit searching for the edge of the bed with my feet, ( a scientific method of measurement) I came to the conclusion I was not at work, but definitely at home.  I rolled to my back clearing just enough sleep induced cobwebs to recognize that if I was home, where was my wife?  Thats right, there is an additional tenant signed to this queen bed lease.  It was not designed to be a rest haven for one, no no no, this warm slab of downy goodness was built specifically for two! 

I smelled coffee!

Why has she awoken so early on this rarest of rare days?  A day not filled with school, or the rush and hustle of work? No, this is a cherished weekend morning ritual, a space of time so few and far between with our hectic schedules that even the powers of Krypton could never tear it away.  A morning for us to stay in bed together, sans children!  A morning the kids get themselves up, feed themselves cereal and then watch an hour or two of useless television before going to church!  A morning where talking and snuggling are not interrupted by the baggage of a long day needing to be unpacked before bedtime!  My goodness how has this happened!  Have we gone so far in our marriage that these little things mean nothing, they hold no cherished place in our hearts?  Have we fallen into such a rut that all forms of individualism separating us from our children has perished?  This is blasphemy!  blasphemy I say!

Well too heck with her!  To heck with her I say!  Leave me alone in bed will she! You better believe I wont be friendly when she gives me a cup of that “oh so delicious” coffee she makes! It probably wont taste good anyways, and I will force myself not to like it! I’m not even going to smile! No sir!  I’m thinking it’s going to be a little hard to swallow such warm tasty goodness upon the heels of such marital disrespect!  Hard I tell you! 

I am distraught and as the sting of loneliness slowly clears my head.  I seem to recal a small child coming in at “oh midnight thirty” to say he had a bad dream.  The covers were pulled back, a heavy sigh was released and a small little boy with cuddly green blanket was fast asleep, squished between his mom and dad.  Was that it? Was that the reason she left the bed?  Or maybe I was snoring?  I do have a tendency to snore now and again. Although she has never complained about it, even going so far as to say “its kind of rhythmic”.  I am no fool.  I know she says such things as to not hurt my feelings over the fact she can’t sleep next to a buzzsaw at full throttle.  Maybe it was our giant dog that woke her up?  He does have a tendency to sound like bigfoot walking across the floor downstairs. When he wants to go outside he lets out a sound similar to that of a wookie!  Once your hear that noise at 3 in the morning, combined with clumping feet across the floor, it can get your heart rate up causing a serious adrenaline rush!  Sleep usually doesn’t follow after that little encounter for quite some time.   But even then, she would never give up our weekend morning together would she?  I am so confused and have chosen to quit theorizing about my selfish predicament.  Maybe it is what it is, and I should just face the fact, between the kids, my snoring and the giant beast of a dog, maybe, just maybe there is a perfectly good explanation for this series of events.

I go downstairs

She greets me with a smile, I am not swayed.  She is on the couch under some blankets (looks inviting) watching the morning show.  In my best cool and collected voice I mutter a soft; so what happened to you last night? She proceeds to explain that once our little one came to bed, night mare and all, she couldn’t sleep all squished up between us.  The wood stove had the house way to warm upstairs so she thought she would just leave him there so he would feel safe with his dad and head downstairs where it was cooler.  She motioned for me to come sit next to her.  I still wasnt completely swayed so I sat a little bit aways from her on the couch.  My son brought me a cup of hot fresh coffee.  I buckled a little more and moved in closer.  I let her know that I had in fact put our little guy back to bed only 10 minutes after she had disappeared from our room.  In fact it was all coming back to me now.  I had gotten up to go to the bathroom and when I returned she was gone.  I placed the little one back in his bed, thinking she was downstairs getting something to drink, I went right back to sleep.  She let out a grumble of discontent, followed with a: you mean I could have slept in our bed all night instead of freezing down here? Yep….

I am now feeling like a fool as I take in the dark roast that fills my coffee cup.  Apparently I am the one to blame all along, for I should have recognized what was happening and brought her back upstairs to me. Then I remember something even more important!  It isn’t our weekend morning to stay in bed together after all!  We had been jipped once again, for I had to be somewhere. Karma had dealt me an ugly hand for I was the one that had to be up and out the door this morning!  I had to be at work.  Yep all the commiserating, all that whining to myself, all the selfishness, all the second guessing and in reality I am the one to ruin what could have been a perfect morning between two people who love each other.  Hmmmm. 

Well at least the little one got a good nights sleep.  I hope when he is older he appreciates all we have sacrificed to ensure he feels safety, protection and love from his parents.  I guess in the long run that is worth a few sacrificed mornings.  Besides his mother and I will have plenty of mornings to spend together once we are old, ugly and have run out of things to say to each other right?  Right? 

Just kidding……

My wife the single parent

theycallmebetty3 Comments

She rises at 5:30 to start her long day.  A shower, some coffee, a heavy sigh, a moment alone.  She does her hair and makeup before the sun rises.  A brush of the teeth, a layer of lipstick, a wry little jokeresque smile.  She looks at the little lines on her eyes, sighs, then puts her game face on, its time to go.  The doors are tossed open the covers pulled back, sleepy eyes open to thin light from the hallway afar.  The first two are moving, then its down the stairs, the last two still sleeping, time ticking, alarm sounding, no response.  A gentle rock of the hand, a slight whisper in ear.  The last two have awoken, they stretch rise and get dressed.  Breakfast is a hustle, like that of a subway coffee stand.  A bagel, a doughnut, some cereal, or toast.  Four other people, begging for help, wanting some food, needing their hair brushed, gathering some thoughts.

Lunches are made she is feeling the pressure, the clock is ticking departure is near.  One goes to high school and starts zero period.  Three go to elementary school their arrival is eminent.  The dogs are outside playing with glee, the goat and the horses munch quietly on their breakfast of oats and hay.  The two oldest return with reports on the animals well-being, subjects are changed, backpacks are filled, home work is gathered now head to the car with five minutes to spare.  One last cup of coffee before heading away, only to find no one has a jacket, two forgot their lunches and one wants to argue about whether or not his pants are too dirty to go to school that day. 

As she pulls out the driveway, one in the back screams he forgot his clarinet, the car turns around and in a jiffy she’s back where they started.  It’s at this point she can feel the pressure truly mount.  The high schoolers grade gets dinged if he’s late and we are ten miles from town.  Nine times out of ten they make it in time, but he is now grumpy for this is the tenth time.  She rushes across town to the elementary school and finds her parking spot.  You see this is where she works, her three children now turn into thirty.  Thirty kids who all need the same attention as that of her three.  A deep breath a moment in the car, a poised smile on the face, a whistle in hand and before she can catch her breath she is directing hundreds of other parents where to park and drop off their little angels.  As these parents drive some give her the nod.  The nod of “I understand what you’re going through right now” the gesture is returned with appreciation.  Some simply smile, some wave.  Some are truly glad to see her for she brightens their day and some are so self-absorbed they wish she would just get out-of-the-way. 

In a flash it is done not before she is frozen by the mornings bitter air.  But she turns on her heels and steps into the hallway that leads to her room where her partner reveals, the plans for the day and the lesson to be learned.  Its assist a child over here, adore a child there, its bathroom breaks and sorry mishaps.  Its challenges met and opportunities missed, its laughing and crying and some throwing fits.  It’s a fine ballet of tag team education where the goal always remains the same; send children home with more brain power than they came to school with that particular day. Teachers and parents, administrators and children, she feels attached to them all both mentally and emotionally.  By the end of the day she feels a strong sense of accomplishment and a foreboding sense of exhaustion.  For she understands the day is not done and as she winds down from thirty daughters and sons, she’s left facing the remaining three that need her the most. 

A half hour break then the pick-up begins, first the little ones then the high schooler and before she knows which way is up and which way is down she has a car full of the most important children she knows.  One would think the day was over, but not for our girl, she still has grocery shopping to do, animals to feed and horses that need riding.  Stalls need cleaning and friends who have looked forward to seeing her are happy she is there at the barn.  The smallest ones are tired, and grumpy is rearing its ugly head.  Squabbles and bickering are broken up, feelings are hurt and she does her best to referee.  A sit in the car, a timeout, a strong reprimand along with a please say your sorry thrown in for good measure.  A parent is apologized to for some inappropriate behavior, it’s always met with an “its ok I had kids once that age too” then the nod of understanding soon follows. 

By the time she returns home 12 hours have passed, it’s homework and dinner, showers and bedtime stories.  The kids once again take care of the dogs, put out the trash, quickly pick up their rooms and get ready for bed.  If she’s lucky everyone gets along and it all goes swimmingly.  If she’s not lucky its reminiscent of a gang fight at Pelican bay. 

By eight things have started to wind down, a few dishes are washed, a load of laundry is done, some clothes are folded.  The two little ones have laid down their heads. they are fast asleep as the worries of a hard day, education and playing have taken its toll on their little frames.  The two older ones have finally settled down, one is reading, the other is quietly watching a hunting show.  She slowly for the first time today starts to let her guard down.  A glass of wine and some brain-dead TV usually do the trick. 

As the warmth of the wine settles into her soul, one child goes up to bed and the oldest stays up just a smidge longer.  You see he knows what is going to happen next.  At fifteen he is starting to grasp the strains of a fully scheduled day.  He also holds quite a bit of responsibility as older brother to his younger siblings.  He switches channels and gazes across the room, checking so carefully not to disturb her for he knows it will happen quite soon.   Another glass is poured and before it can be savored. She simply slips off to sleep, so soundly, so quietly, the comfort of white noise, good wine and a soft comforter are more than her frayed senses can handle. 

He lets her sleep for a while then carefully wakes her.  He points her in the right direction, waiting for her to make it to the top of the stairs.  He turns out the lights, locks the doors and sends himself to bed.  She clears the top of the stairs, takes a warm shower where she washes away the emotional grime of the day.  Slowly she makes it into her empty bed, she mumbles, she grumbles and turns on the TV.  You see white noise makes it easier to fall asleep when you are all alone.  When you are a single parent.  When you need some form of comfort after a hard day.  And as she drifts off into the land of dreams and serenity she thinks about the day he will return to give her the break she so desperately seeks.  Ahhhhhh sleep.

5:30 am the alarm goes off……

This is truly a typical day for my wife.  I wrote this out of admiration for her, for all the wives of public servants, true single parents and military personnel who are gone for days, weeks, months and in the case of the military years at a time.  As a firefighter I am not home for a guaranteed 10 days a month.  Though most months its closer to 12-14 days.  That is half a month away from our families and our wives.  They are amazing people to be married to us, and yet at the same time be alone as single parents.  Its never easy for a couple, I respect you all and promise to give all I have as a father and friend when I am home. Out of respect for you.. 

I love you Jacy……….

 

Am I going bald?

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Oh mirror mirror on the wall who is the baldest one of them all????  Hah! Not me! For I have a full head of hair! Oh yes I do!  A full head of flowing Norwegian blonde hair, the kind of hair that Fabio himself would adorn.  When I comb it in the morning birds tweet outside my window in approval.  As I head off to work, my wife runs her hands through shimmering locks with a heavy sigh of contentment.  The door opens to the world outside and the winds die down out of respect for my feathered mane.  To see me is to love me for as I shake my head side to side, men stare in awe at the unbelievable attraction that is my hair and they want to be me! 

Ok are we done vomiting now? Wrech, blech, huuuaaaahhh!  My little trip down “full of myself” lane was fun but here are the facts.  I am 45 years old and my hair is thinning slightly.  It is doing this in an area I prefer to call the forward cul-de-sac.  You know the space right above your brow line traveling back about even with the front middle of your head but not quite far enough back to be your cow-lick.  It thins in a pattern that resembles a cul-de-sac on any city street.  When you gaze through the thin layering of hair, you can almost envision the new neighborhood being built, right there on you head!

We all know people afflicted with this horrible sign of aging.  They run around trying their best to cover it up.  Baseball caps suddenly are worn by people who never really liked baseball caps.  Hair is grown longer on one side of the head to produce the perfect “comb-over”, where the longer hair is literally combed over the bald spot. The part line has now moved from a respectful 2 degrees south of the mid cranial line to a full-blown 90 degrees south hovering right above the top of the ear! There of course are those that embrace the cul-de-sac look and wear it quite nicely, but in my opinion you had better have a pretty stellar shaped head to pull that off otherwise you end up looking as though you are wearing mink earmuffs all year-long! Then there is the Bruce Willis, Vin Deisel, Samuel L Jackson group that have just said screw it and gone completely bald! They look good, no they look GREAT! They pull it off, oh yes! But even if they didn’t I sure as hell wouldn’t tell them otherwise!  They would kick my butt!  

So how did I get to this point.  I have two brothers who have full heads of hair, and in reality I still have a full head of hair.  When I gel my hair, or it is wet that’s when you really see the outline of the cul-de-sac starting to show.  Its like purchasing land on an Alabama lake front, (that’s another story) you know there is land under that vegetation, but until you start pulling out the trees and shrubs one by one you never really get a good view of the property line!  Nice visual huh? Now I know this whole “thinning hair” thing doesn’t seem like a big problem at all, but it’s getting worse and I just want to know why?  Why me?  Why is my hair going away?

 As I am left grinding my teeth pondering the issue, it hits me.  It’s the kids fault! Shazam! It’s the damn kids fault!  BA-DOW! Thats it! When I was young, unmarried and spry, I was a handsome devil, with no cares in the world.  My biggest decision was choosing the bar where I was meeting my buddies that night and of course when my next paycheck would arrive.  Life was good.  I owned stock in macaroni and cheese, and my fridge held a gallon of milk, plenty of beer, lunch meat and hot dogs.  The hot dogs were for Sunday night dinner when I would dress up the mac n cheese!  I had no stress, I also had LOTS of hair!  I looked like Andi Freaking Gibb! (sorry my generation, my timeframe).  Then came marriage!  Marriage was good-no marriage was great!  Just me and my lady, hanging out, watching TV, eating real food because mac n cheese was for bachelors and children!  Yeah it was soo nice….  Then came children, it starts out so exciting and wonderful, you can’t believe the little miracle the two of you have created!  He is laying there all wrapped up and cute and snuggly and cute and look oh he made a sound, ahhhhhh he’s sooooo cute…  And then the kid doesn’t sleep for six freaking months straight, which means you also don’t sleep for 6 months straight! Cue crankiness!! Then there’s making sure he is safely in his stroller, and car seat and high chair which sits in a kitchen that has cabinets locked tighter than Fort Knox!  He starts walking then running then riding a bike, then riding a dirt bike, then riding horses and hunting and driving, and dating and going on overnight trips with his friends and before you know it!  HAIR IS FALLING FROM YOUR STRESSED OUT LITTLE HEAD LIKE SNOW IN THE HIMALAYAS!

I mean SERIOULSY over the last two years I have just been getting thinner and thinner, and I don’t want to be “that guy”!  You know, the guy who everyone talks about after he leaves the room!  Hey dude did you see his head?  Holy cow man talk about a receding hairline, it’s not receding that thing is in full retreat!!  Why does he even bother to put gel in his hair?  I don’t know, but someone needs to tell him?  Or worse yet I end up shaving it all off then I’ll be “that guy” again.  Ho hoo, yeah that’s right I’m bald!  Oh yeah baby its a solar panel for a love machine!  Whoa buddy just rub it for luck, hey baby that’s right the carpet really does match the drapes!!  YYYUUUUCCCCCKKKKK!!!!

That can’t happen I wont let it, I hated it when my dad was spewing those oh so witty remarks!  It was just plain embarrassing!  No No I will take it like a man, I have too.  Yes, yes professionalism and maturity all the way!  If I am going to lose my hair I am going out dignified!  No Rogaine, No hair club for men, No scalp treatments, No baseball caps or wigs and definitely NO weaves!  I’ll shave it off like a man and wear that jet white scalp like a terrified buck private at boot camp!  That is it! Yes sir only two third degree sunburns and few skin peels and I’ll have that thing shining like a new penny!  Yep that’s the ticket! Three more kids to raise another handful of hair to lose!  Ahhhh its good to come to terms with this issue.  Love your kids, lose your hair, I think it might just be a fair trade-off..

Now, what the heck am I going to do about the grey?????

Today I became my father!

theycallmebetty2 Comments

 

 

 

When I was a kid I could be a bit of a handful, I was strong-willed and absolutely hated being told what to do! I can vividly remember as a kid, my father slowly becoming frustrated with me over my attitude. After awhile he would eventually let slip from his mouth; I hope you have ten kids and they are all just like you!  To which I would reply; me too, because I think I am pretty cool!   My dad would mumble something under his breath, chuckle to himself and the issue would be dropped.

Then there were times that he and I butted heads so badly that inevitably I ended up in my room for the evening with a good solid smack on the butt and the threat of the belt if I so much as peeked out of my room.  This was soundly followed up with him bellowing; do it! Open that door and see what happens!  It was as if he was taunting me, calling me chicken in front of my friends, to which my inner Marty McFly would start twitching and shaking because I didn’t care who you were, NO ONE CALLS ME CHICKEN!  Of course sometime being a chickens not so bad.  But I never figured that out, I was always the one who pushed things to the very furthest limit I could.  In some ways I am still that way today.  If given the chance I can argue making you believe that your point was really my point and my point was really your point, and just for fun I might even argue both points to such a degree that you have no idea what ground you really stand on.

Anyways I would sit my room, smoke rising from my head angry at the world!  I really never why I would become so mad, or why I never let things go after being sent to my room.  But what I did know was I was never ever going to be like my father!  I went to sleep many nights thinking to myself; If I ever have kids I am never going to be like you dad!  No how, no way!  My kids are going to be free to express themselves and they will get to stay up all night long if they want! Yep! My kids can have ice cream when ever they feel like it and if they wish to have hot lunch at school everyday well that will be ok with me!  I would lay there on my bed listening to my AC/DC Back in Black album.  (Album:A collection of recordings on a long-playing record.  a record is a large disk made of vinyl played on a record player. a record player is; oh hell look it up if you can’t remember) Wondering what will my kids be like?  Will they be cool like me or will they be a pain in the butt like my dad?  I hope he is right, I really do hope my kids are just like me, I’ll show him a thing or two.  They are going to think I am the greatest dad that has ever lived!  M&M’s for everyone!!!

Putting the kids to bed tonight my youngest starts an argument over whether or not he can go upstairs to take a shower by himself.  After resolving that issue, my daughter wants to argue over whether or not she actually used conditioner in her hair this evening.  For some reason unbeknownst to he mother and I she seems to have an affliction to the stuff.  preferring to have her hair ripped out with each pull of a brush or comb after a shower.  Yet the argument continues.  Then to round out the evening or the trifecta as I prefer to call it, the middle one is pissed because its his bedtime and he can’t watch a movie with his older brother.  When asked to go off to bed the attitude starts, then rudeness to his mother which is followed with a complete round of ignoring anything asked of him.  I walk into the room to confront my demon spawn only to be greeted with complete disrespect.  As he rolls his eyes at me and states with an emphatic “what”, he is promptly taken aside, his disrespectful actions are calmly explained to him and he is told to go to his room. He complies…. There you see I am the better man.  Calm, cool no action needed, I got this, I am so much better at this than my dad ever was, oh yeah, superdad……

I turn around after several rounds of gratuitous back patting to find he has made his way past me and is leaning against the wall watching the TV!  My head hurts, I am dizzy, feeling a little anxious and nauseous all at the same time.  Four kids, four issues, the arguing, I just want them all in bed, with peace and quiet, is that too much to ask.  Some respect would be nice too!  I feel it like a demon welling up from beneath, growling and tearing at my insides.  I wonder if this is how David Banner feels moments before he emerges as the Incredible Hulk!  And before I can catch myself a bellowing; GET YOUR BUTT IN BED RIGHT NOW! Comes out like an explosion of horrific magnitude!  My son turns on his heels and runs for the stairs, I am behind him moving like a cop chasing a suspect.  I am mumbling something that no one can understand! The boy makes it up the stairs and as he hits the landing I let him know: that butt better be in bed because if you get out of bed that butt is mine! I chuckle. I hear his bedroom door shut and as I stroll past my wife I let out a curt; I hope he has ten kids and they are all just like him! 

It is at that very moment I hear myself for the first time.  I shiver at what has just happened, I am in shock, disbelief, denial.  I am astounded at how easy it has happened.  I was so sure this would, no, could never happen.  I swore I would never let it happen and yet here I am.  Oh man……  Today I became my father…..

I may need some counseling.