My Girls

It is blessed Friday. It seems that although the weeks rush by, I am still thankful for Friday and a reprieve from the work week. The weekend is the time that I can stay home. I can get all the stuff done. Yeah right. Who am I kidding? I have big plans of getting things done, but it never works out.

This weekend I want to paint the baseboards in my kitchen. They have been looking a bit shoddy lately. But... stuff always happens. You know the usual-waking up, coffee, laundry started, unload the dishwasher, "hey what's on Netflix?", checking Facebook, and several hours later...

I do have to admit I have a thing for Facebook. Not really "my" page, but I am in a fashion group with an incredible group of women. They come from all over the world, are all different ages, and we share our love (sometimes hate) of what we like about fashion. We are a small group and bonds have been formed. It is one of my safe places, as everyone is so supportive and honest with each other.

Not only do we share fashion emergencies, but we get real. You know those days when you have had enough with your kids or your spouse? Or maybe it is a bad day at work? Whatever. It doesn't matter. They are there to raise you up. It quickly gets turned back to how those shoes complete an outfit, but sometimes that is what we need. A moment of boosting our confidence when it really matters. Life isn't easy and if talking about clothing keeps some of us from walking off the edge, well I see nothing wrong with it.

So here is to my girls. My support. My sanity. Thank you all for keeping my feet on the ground.

Kisses, 

~L

I have been following a fashion guru that has left me feeling high and dry. I have been trying to understand and grasp this person's ideas for over five years and trying to figure out where I fit in her system. My son has called it my mid-life crisis. Maybe it is. It is time for me to be in harmony with....well...me. I feel like there is something bigger going on. Maybe the clock ticking is really the root of it all. I know clothing really won't give the ultimate direction, but maybe it is a start. However, I simply don't think any one person can fit in a box and fit into any one preconceived notions on where a woman should fall. We are all so different, there would have to be a box for each person on the planet to fit in to individually.

It is rather sad that I have spent so much time, trying to figure out where I fit. It seems I am not alone in my thinking or frustration. So why have I been at it for so long? Well, I think because every woman wants to belong somewhere and have that sense of community. With our busy lives raising littles, taking care of our spouses, or working outside of the home, we really don't have much time left in the day for the bond of community, much less ourselves.

I have indeed met some wonderful women within this program and I can call that a plus, but it still leaves you feeling like you wasted so much time and energy trying to figure it all out. Most of us I feel are searching for that elusive bit of who we used to be~before bills, shopping, making meals, cleaning messes. We are there still, just buried beneath all the rubble. Oh how lovely to be able to clear the debris away and see what is at the heart of each of us.

Yet, does it really matter? We have each walked a path that was meant for us alone. We made decisions along the way that shaped who we are. It isn't all roses and butterflies, but even the rock slides along the way brought us to where we are at this moment. This perfect moment in time.

I am 46. I am a wife and a Mom, but I am still me. I have wisdom sprinkles in my hair. I have wrinkles and the beginning of sagging skin. I am still me though. I am no longer a size two and that is okay. I have a full life. I have a family who loves me and friends who make me laugh on a daily basis. I am blessed. I am me.

Good Morning!!

I have good news! My son is coming home! Well not technically "home," but close enough to touch! He will be arriving in San Diego next weekend and then it is off to Camp Pendleton for the next month. That is about two hours from where we live, but don't think I won't be going. It is a lot closer to drive to CP, than to Florida! I will be there with bells on to pick him up and drive him to CP. We will, of course, have to stop on the way and have lunch, or dinner, or whatever. Semper gumby in the works, since we don't know what time the plane will be coming in. ~grumble~

Anyway, I mailed him his Cakepops for his graduation. He has yet to tell me if he received them, but we still have another week until he leaves to come West. He better share them when they arrive! He is known for being a fat ass in our family-Mr. Bottomless Pit when it comes to sweets. So if he gets a stomach ache, he will have rightly deserved it and I won't have sympathy.

I can't wait to see him next week, which so happens to be the day before Easter! Wouldn't it be wonderful if he could come home for Easter? Well, I think so! However, we are not holding our breath. The needs of the Corps come first and this is what he signed up for. I can keeping hoping though and maybe keep a finger or two crossed in the mean time.

Until next time,
~L

The Rollercoaster Continues

I am a Marine Mom. I live and breathe for any word from my son. You really can never understand it (my friend Romy will kill me for saying that-she doesn't like that saying), unless you are in my shoes. Or maybe I am just too emotional. I get choked up at the smallest things. I worry about him all the time, as any parent would.

It isn't like he is off in another country, he is right here in the good ole' U. S. of A. But he is not HERE. His room is no longer his room. He isn't here in the morning drinking all the coffee and only leaving a drop of creamer in the bottle, because he knows it drives me nuts. He isn't here on the computer discussing news articles with me or watching youtube videos of animals doing stupid things (Have you seen Simon's Cat?). He isn't picking on his younger brother. He isn't calling his older sister names or high fiving her, when they gang up on my youngest. No. He isn't here.

He has been in Florida since August of 2011, which is pretty much as far as you can get from California. There were delays with his schooling, then a minor medical issue, and then more delays. Well, we got word that he will finally be graduating on Friday from school and then he is off to somewhere new. Of course, we won't know where until right before he leaves. I have tears in my eyes thinking about this.

We won't be there for his graduation. He says it is no big deal and that he will have someone take pictures. LOL No big deal. Maybe he doesn't understand either. I am his Mom.

I have been there for every major event. His preschool graduation, elementary graduation, homecoming, high school graduation, boot camp, MOS graduation, dentist appointments, the time he had to have a small ball taken out of his nose at the doctors, and probably a million other things that are major to me, but aren't really news worthy. Then there is this.

He was supposed to graduate next week. Ummm...he forgot to tell me it was moved up. Sure, he forgot! I planned on making him cupcakes this weekend and sending them off, so he would have them for his graduation. A little token for him to know that we are all thinking of him. I mean what is a graduation without a little bit of a party atmosphere?. Maybe I should have gotten party hats and horns to send too. He would have loved that!

I know what you are thinking, but I am his Mom so don't tell me to cut the apron strings. It isn't like I tell him how to dress and I don't comb his hair for him. He is a big boy. But, I miss him. Plain and simple. However, I will paste my usual smile in place and act like all is right with the world. That is the life of a Marine Mom. I will tell jokes. I will clean the house. I will eat. I will go to work. I will act like I am not glued to the news about world affairs that might send him off to some far away country. I will keep living, because that is what he expects. He wouldn't have it any other way. This may be a major event to me, but to him it is just another day on his ride with the Marines.

Where did the shorts go?

While I don't necessarily think it is true, I am finding my age creeping up on me. My kids are a daily reminder of that fact.I am only 39, on a good day. Some days I feel older than that. Such as last weekend.

My twenty-one year old daughter asked me to go to the mall with her to buy some shorts. I thought what the heck since I haven't been spending that much time with her. We both have very busy schedules. She is always at work, at school, or with her boyfriend and I am always at work or doing community service.

Anyway, I put on some shorts, a plain t-shirt, threw on my flip flops and off we went. My daughter instantly changed the radio station. First indication that I am getting older. I like alternative and will pretty much listen to that all the time. That is young still, isn't it? Nope, obviously KIIS FM is what I should be listening to. You can't go to a dance club listening to Airborne Toxic Event or Flogging Molly. You need to listen to music that thumps. Okay, whatever. I am not changing my music preference though.

We get to the mall and she wants to go into a furniture store. I thought we were getting shorts, but okay it is bonding time. I have to say she does have good taste (she must get that from me), although quite out of her price range. I don't remember looking at anything I couldn't afford when I was first starting out on my own, because I didn't want to be disappointed. Nope, it is okay to look and figure out how to pay for it later. I see problems starting here. It seems the younger generation expects instant gratification, instead of working for it and buying it later. I wonder how this recession thing started? Hmmm, maybe because there are a lot of clueless people out there? But I digress.

Off we go to American Eagle. I have to say everything in this store was on sale, so she couldn't go wrong. However, this is the point that I realized I was old and frumpy. Why is everyone that works at the mall a size 0 and without one laugh line on their face? And the clothes! Tank tops that show bra straps? Jeans that are "skinny?" Don't they realize that smaller leg openings make your ass look bigger? Shirts that are loose around the middle make you look pregnant? Oh, wait, those shirts just make me look pregnant.

So, we wait our turn to pay for her purchases and guess what she bought? JEANS! I am still wondering what happened to the shorts she was buying. I suppose I just don't get it. I hate shopping and will usually go buy what I need, so I can get out of there and go home where I am safe from my old age.Maybe I should just stay away from malls period. Give me Kohl's anyday, where they have everything I need in one store and I don't have to see half naked teenagers without a care in the world.

However, I do have to admit that it is my kids that help me stay young. My taste in music may be a bit off and I may dress in work slacks, button up shirts and heels, but I think I am doing okay. At least my kids don't complain. They make me care about myself and I think that is probably a good thing. I may get wrinkles, but most of them are caused by laughter of memories such as this. 39 isn't so bad and I am sure 49 won't be that bad either. 59? Might be bad, although I think my grandkids will help me with that.