Pleasantly Surprised, Y’all, about West Texas

Abilene is not quite how I remembered it.  

For starters, since I’m here now, there is no reason to be cranky about it.  See previous cranky post.  DC is already a distant memory. I’m looking forward to the possibilities in Abilene, prettiest little town I’ve ever seen (if you like the color brown and squatty mesquite trees).  No, seriously, the town is much better than I remembered.  Plus I put my big girl panties on and quitted my bitchin’. ;)

Here’s my Top 10 “Why I Like Abilene”:

1.      Texas Bling & Cowboy Boots.  I need to get me some!

2.      Pedicures.  Every woman here gets pedicures (no joke) in order to unabashedly wear flip-flops.  (Just add some bling and you can even wear them to work!)

3.      Pick-up Trucks as the New Social Status!  I was a guest at the country club here in town, and I kid you not, more than half of the vehicles were some big ole American trucks. Few Audis, BMWs, Mercedes to be found. 

4.      Brisket, Salsa, Margaritas & Sweet Tea.

5.      Affordability.  I don’t feel broke here! 

Zoo camp is $140/week!  I’d pay at least $300 for a similar camp in DC and there would be no way I’d be able to sign him up the week before since the Type A parents of DC would have registered their darlings back in Feb!

Drop-in classes for Zumba are $7.  $7!  Seriously?! 

6.      Unpretentious. (I am starting to suspect that I might be the snooty one! Yikes!)

7.      Size Matters.  My house is BIG.  Size of a house is relative, right?  No, but really, it’s big with tall ceilings and an open kitchen. I can fulfill my domestic goddess kitchen duties while I keep an eye on the kids in the backyard or as they play in the living room.  It’s so convenient!

8.      Speed Limit is 75.  And people still drive over the limit!

9.      The view.  Every day when I drive my car around town, I have a very beautiful view of big open skies, wind turbines to the west, and a butte to the east.

10.  No traffic.  Ever.

There are plenty of things I don’t like, too, but I won’t kill the high I have right now recognizing all the things I appreciate right now in West Texas.  I’m sure the rant will come, but for now it’s an Attitude of Gratitude, y’all!

Imprisoned in the House of Sick – A Saturday in June

The biggest challenge for me, as a temporary single parent of young children, is leaving the house becomes an execution of strategy and planning.  Since the children obviously cannot be left alone, they must accompany me everywhere.   Constant companionship is a challenge for me as well.  Add sickness.  I can’t really go anywhere being a responsible citizen mama and limiting exposure.  The situation is not bad enough yet to seek relief.   The house, however, is beginning to feel like a prison.

Handsome Little Man has an upset stomach. 

We attempted to break free.  After he slept off  episode one for most of the morning and he ate a small lunch and claimed to feel much better, we all set off for fresh air.  Destination: Washington Harbor to walk along the Potomac.  Parking was hard to come by and before I could find a space, Little Man began to complain again.  *sigh* I don’t want a repeat incident away from home.  Back home we go.

Sometimes my motherhood experience feels like near constant vexation, punctuated with moments of joy.  I wish it were the other way around!

We made it home, just in time.  Thankfully, Little Man is being a good sport of it, with no whining.

Already this morning, I have dealt with a vomiting boy, spilled apple juice on the sofa cushion, and urine on the living room floor (although I was asking for it.  I let Diva Darling run around nude.  Potty training does not begin in earnest until after the move and we are settled).  It’s the constant clean-up that I object to.  I like clean, just not the cleaning.

Relief is en route.  However, we are not going to attempt prison break #2.  I texted the Hubby to take a taxi home.

I’m now planning my temporary escape when relief does come.  Due to the pending move 3 days away (3 days away!), our cupboards are quite bare and definitely out of stock of necessary upset stomach comfort foods and drinks.  My escape will include a quick kid-free trip to Safeway, a guilt-free snarfing of some fattening ice cream product like a Wendy’s frosty, and 10 minutes of quiet somewhere, soaking in the fresh non-humidity air and sunshine.

Good times, people!  Good times!

Does everyone have this much fun and life challenges daily as me, but I'm the only one who broadcasts my woe-is-me attitude?  Or do I just have bad mojo??

Deployment Demons Have Been Summoned, Part II

As I write this, I am sitting at the service department of the car dealership waiting for news about my car (presumably very bad with the possibility of causing high blood pressure, cursing under the breath, and a stiff cocktail at the end of the day). 

Of course, out of nowhere, or actually because the deployment demons have been summoned in full force, a little light popped up on my instrument panel yesterday.  In the 5 years I have driven this car, I have never seen this little light.  But of course, Hubby has not been gone 4 days and BAM! I have a new “growth opportunity” to contend with.  After driving around town for my daily dose of mind-numbing errands, I sat down to look at the car manual.  It reads:  “Anti-lock brake system: If the ABS light stays illuminated or continues to flash, a malfunction has been detected, have the system serviced immediately by your authorized dealer.”  Oh snap!

Sometimes, Ignorance really is bliss.  However, I, not knowing much about cars and because I follow directions, immediately called the service department for an appointment.  So here I sit.

How much “fun” will I have this time around from the deployment curse?  This time my fun began less than 1 hour after I dropped Hubby off at the airport.   The drop-off was a kiss-and-go.  He kissed us all good-bye without much fanfare and told the boy “See you later, Alligator.”  A round of “I-love-you’s” and I pulled away from the curb.  Deep breath.  Smile.  Go.

As we drove home, the Boy and I discussed what a great visit we all had, and how he was going to stay in better touch with Dad through email.  Yada, yada, yada.  I had warm, fuzzy feelings toward Hubby until I put my hand in my coat pocket to retrieve my house key, only to realize that HE had my house key.  And HE was 30 miles away at the airport, probably already through security.  It’s starting to snow.  It’s dinner time.  I have cold, hungry kids and NO house key.

Spoiled Wifey Moment:  I am sometimes, *ahem*, a bitch.  This little fiasco couldn’t go unreported.  I did call Hubby to inform him that he should check his coat pocket.  Did he feel bad?  Yes, as he should.  I realize this was one thoughtless act was completely accidental (We were doing the divide and conquer with the kids.  I was strapping Diva Darling in her car seat, while he was rounding up Little Man and locking up the house.).  But it still caused a lot of *ss pain for me nonetheless.

I called my neighbor who rescued me and the kids from the cold and hunger.  We took refuge in her home, and I started dealing with the situation.  My kind neighbor couldn’t locate our spare key, and we weren’t sure if she even still had it.  I called my landlord.  He didn’t have a spare either. *sigh* Two house keys were making their way to the other side of the world.  The spare’s location was unknown.  I was locked out.  Perfect, just perfect.

The locksmith was called.  He was very courteous, prompt, and EXPENSIVE.  I didn’t bother with price comparison when it’s a Saturday night, snowing, and I’m annoyed.  (Aside:  It is rather disconcerting how easily a lock can be picked.  It didn’t look like any special tools were really necessary.)  Anyway, a quick fix and we were all back in the warm house by bedtime.

Now every time I come home, the new and shiny gold doorknob reminds me of my Hubby.  Whether it is a good or bad association, I’ll never tell….

CAR UPDATE: Punch to the gut.

A sensor has gone rogue.  The sensor replacement part only costs $20, but it’s located behind a wheel, axle, and 2 hours of labor to get to it.  As I’m calculating money and scheduling logistics, the service technician says, “Oh, by the way, your brake pads are measuring 4/32 and should be replaced.  If it measures 2/32, it won’t pass a state inspection.”  Hmm, do it now since I’m here or wait until next month, consuming another day of precious child-free time?

I had to call into the support network.  My kind neighbor, the very same one who sheltered us during the lockout, is meeting Little Man at the bus stop.  This is the very same neighbor who 3 weeks ago watched Diva Darling when I was curled up in a ball of misery, incapacitated from a violent, nasty stomach bug of doom.

Deployment Curses, or Growth Opportunities, (depending on your attitude) come forth in threes.  Dare I ask “what else?” Or 2 out of 3 and I catch a break this time around?  Meanwhile, I keep adding to the ever-expanding THANK YOU fund to my neighbor.  If you have any you-are-as-close-to-an-angel-on-earth-and-are-the-BEST-neighbor-ever gift ideas, please let me know.  

Good times!