Category Archives: Musings from the laundromat

Musings from the laundromat: Sleep deprived edition

I am exhausted.  I am sitting here at the laundromat in mismatched clothes,  (partly due to the fact that I didn’t come here last weekend) grainy eyeballs and no coherent thoughts meandering through my head.

I don’t know what’s going on at night – but it’s not restful and it’s not … I can’t even think of another word to describe what is not going on at night. THAT is how tired I am.  I kid you not.

I posted about my rotten night ‘sleep’ on my FB page – and my friend offered ‘Melatonin’ to which I responded, ‘sounds like a Hogwarts spell’.  Which, it did to me.  I could just imagine Hermione waving her wand and then with a deft flick,  “Mel-a-ton-in!”

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The person at the receiving end of that wand, falling immediately into a blissful slumber.  *sigh*

Okay, now I AM dreaming.

So, I have been tossing and turning, waking and thinking, catching snippets of sleep only to have nightmares.  It’s bonkers.

The good news is, I took tomorrow off.  No glancing at the clock all day, measuring out how much time I have available for resting or enjoying a movie.  After I get home, I don’t have to leave the house again until Tuesday morning.

The day is mine – and THAT – is dreamy.

Musings from the laundromat: We have contact! Edition

Best laundromat time EVER!

I was thinking about what to write about, since I purged my creative stomach this morning in my awake and naked post … when my Facebook IM dinged at me.

NIC!

Not only did I get to chat with my baby – but he posted lots of photos.

Photos AND interaction – LOVE IT! I walked around the laundromat, smiling – with tears in my eyes.  SO happy to talk to him.  🙂

*Told you.  Us girls – we are bundles of emotions that need human interaction.  And if that human happens to be someone we love, we are undone.*

In return, I sent him a photo of me holding a sock.  With the caption: I’m a free elf!

I am a nerd.  And if you understand that caption, you have a little nerd in you too. 😉

So far, Nic’s favorite thing has been the pub food.  I’m sure as he does and sees more, that will change. I hope so anyway. LOL!

Without further ado – here are some of the photos he shared.

The house I grew up in!

The house I grew up in!

Windsor Castle

Windsor Castle

Windsor street

Windsor street

Swans. They look so innocent, but they'll attack ;)

Swans. They look so innocent, but they’ll attack 😉

OMG. Cadburys!

OMG. Cadburys!

It figures! LOL!

It figures! LOL!

Musings from the laundromat – Lightning Crashes edition

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I sat outside under the night sky last night – feeling the thunder vibrate through me – smelling the rain that did not fall. Lightning flashed in random ‘peek-a-boo’ fashion, making clouds temporarily visible.

And I was contemplating.

Nic goes to England in just 3 days.  For a month at least – perhaps indefinitely, if it is to be his path.

I’ve had so much on my mind lately, time slipped by on cat feet.  Quickly and quietly.

Just what am I going to do alone with my thoughts?  Probably have more of them.

As I stepped inside, ironically, ‘Lightning Crashes’ was being performed acoustically on the tv.  Live was providing my thoughts some  background music.

As if my thoughts need them.

My internal tangents have theme songs and a cast and crew … lighting and screen writers – production staff and catering.  It’s quite heady really.  Independent tangents of course, we have a budget you know.

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But, a tangent was born.  The song reminded me of someone I dated.  He was in a band (shocking, I know.)  He played the bass and when his band performed that particular song, he would come down from the stage and slow dance with me until he had to join in.

The drums and bass aren’t involved until the end of the 2nd verse of the song –  and that is when my dance ended.  Then up on stage he would go and I would find my seat.

I seem to have so many stories like that – but no book.  So many ‘almosts’ but no ‘ever after’.  I’m to blame for most of them, I know.  I pushed people and opportunities away.  So stubborn.  And never willing to settle.

I’ve always had big dreams of what life and love is supposed to be.  I still do.

When you’ve seen what I’ve seen and experienced what I’ve experienced, life gets bigger and so does your soul and heart and dreams.

And I still will not settle.  I will wait.  I will wait for the man with the broken heart and haunted past – who is meant for me.

The first I knew of true love – unconditional, pure love was when I gave birth.  They say that will be the case to first time mothers (and fathers.)  “The minute you lay eyes on that baby, THEN you’ll know what love is.”  ‘They’ were right.

Although, if I’m being honest, when Nicholas Avery Charles was laid in my arms, and when I looked down and said my first word to him “Hi.” I didn’t feel that intense burst of love right away.

I felt like a terrible mother then – wasn’t there supposed to be internal fireworks going on?  A sudden and profound new-found feeling of the maternal variety?

I was madly in love with my son when I carried him.  I loved every hiccup, every kick.  I spoke to him – I caressed my belly and imagined what my baby would look like, what he or she would sound like.  I chose not to know the sex of my baby – I found out (obviously) when the doctor announced “It’s a son.”

I missed being pregnant for a little while after he was born.  I truly missed it.  Perhaps it felt safer carrying him inside of me – where he was alive and mine and protected from the world.  I don’t know.

Oh, the postpartum love came.  It came like a love tsunami – my heart was filled to overflowing.

I barely let him sleep in his crib at home.  I would ‘accidentally’ bump into it so that he would wake up.  “OH! Are you awake?  Let me hold you.”  And for hours I would breathe in the scent of him as he fell back asleep on my chest.

I loved my son with a heart I didn’t know I had.

I would lay down and die for my son if need be.

I would do anything to ensure he has a chance for a life filled with memories, love, hope, dreams and wonder.

And … I would send him away from me.

And I am.

And I hope that he finds those things on his journey.  I’m giving him all I have to give, an opportunity.  A ticket to see more than his small home town.  A chance.

Perhaps years from now, he’ll sit outside as a storm brews and recall this upcoming adventure – lose himself in thought with a smile on his face.  Then go back inside of his home and share a story with his family.

http://youtu.be/ScFNSQ8jaEsimage

Musings from the Laundromat: “I don’t know” edition

There is just so much going on right now.  Personally, Locally, Nationally, Globally.

Wasn’t sure how I was going to convey all that I felt about it until I was in the shower.  I remembered that it’s okay not to know.  And that pretty much tied everything together.  “I don’t know.”

I’ve shared my opinion here in many posts – that it’s so easy to jump to conclusions (one of the few exercises I participate in unfortunately – but knowing this and not liking it is the first step to changing it.)

Unless it’s happened to you – or you were there – you can not believe everything you read, hear or even see.

Even then I suppose it’s subject to perception.

I jumped on the Justice for Trayvon bandwagon with no first hand information – I got sucked into the media circus.  I do believe, with absolute certainty, that we, as humans, can be persuaded to one side of an argument or another if only one side is pushed down our throats around the clock.

I have to step back today and remind myself:

I was not there.

I do not know.

Still, as a mother and a human, my gut is uneasy with the ruling.  George Zimmerman IS guilty of killing Trayvon Martin.  Did the prosecution have enough evidence to prove that he killed him unjustifiably?  Beyond a reasonable doubt?

I don’t know.

Obviously we have a deceased 17-year-old who died at the hands of another – that’s evidence enough for me to warrant some sort of justice!

The uneasiness I feel stems from the fact that there appears to be no justice.  But again, I don’t know that.

I don’t know if George Zimmerman has night terrors, is wracked with guilt – if his wife lies beside him at night thinking he’s a monster now.  If he’ll ever be able to resume any semblance of a ‘normal’ life.  He was judged in the court of public opinion – and that court does not adjourn.

My heart breaks for the Martin family.  I do know this.  There is no coming back for Trayvon.  Not from this.

Onto Cory Monteith.  One of my guilty pleasures is the television show ‘Glee.’  I was saddened to hear that one of its stars passed away.

Only 31 years old.  And why does it seem like more of a loss when someone is young and talented?

Shouldn’t every life should be both celebrated and mourned when it comes to an end?

Cause of death has not been determined yet, but, since they’ve stated foul play does not seem to be a factor, and since Cory recently exited a rehabilitation facility for substance abuse – the threads about his death have concluded (without actually knowing yet) that he died of an overdose.

He was found alone in a hotel in Canada by staff after he failed to checkout by checkout time.

For all the fame and wealth and celebrity that he had – he is gone and not coming back.

It doesn’t make a difference to me what cause of death was.  It’s a terrible shame and my heart goes out to his family, friends and to his fans.

If it was an overdose, I hope intelligent conversations can shed light on the issue of addiction.  That some good can come from that conversation.

On a personal note, I spoke with a dear friend yesterday that lost someone she loved.  The cause of death is also unknown – but what is known points to suicide.

She is left not knowing.  Wondering.  Living with questions and regrets. And even if the autopsy report concludes ‘overdose’ – she will still not know.

Did he mean to end his life?  Was it an accidental overdose?  Was it a cry for help that went too far?  Because – he too, is not coming back.  What is left are the people who knew and loved him trying to pick up the pieces and digest what they don’t know in order to move forward with their lives.

“I don’t know.”  Not knowing something puts us in fear.

Then again, I would rather hear “I don’t know” from someone rather than be given false information.

And when I’m asked a question I don’t have an answer for – I admit it.  Then if it’s important enough to me, I’ll educate myself on the topic or research an answer.

In my personal life – I’ve taken the very blunt, play-no-games approach.  I know how it feels to be in the dark – to not know where I stand.  I choose today to not make someone else feel that way.  It’s not kind and it’s not fair.

But then life is often not what I would consider ‘fair’.  I’ll speak for myself when I say that I tend to want what I consider a just, and reasonable beginning, middle and end.  But life is not like that.

I don’t know, but I would imagine the Martin and Monteith families probably agree today.

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Musings from the laundromat – dull moments edition

A friend said this morning, in response to my Facebook status: “Never a dull moment in Amandaville’  which, made me think … because I see my ‘Ville’ as quite dull.  Dull as dishwater most days.  But, simple things in my life turn out bonkers.

Took me two trips to get here today.  The first had me at the pharmacy, trying to purchase ‘Unstopables’ for the laundry and finding that my debit card was not in my wallet.  No, the irony was not lost on me.

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I was stopped. I did the sheepish “I’ll be back, it’s at home” thing and received the ‘yeah right, you’re not coming back’ doubtful look.

Well I DID come back.

Debit card was at home on the dining room table after going with my son to Taco Bell last night.

SO!   The status …

Names and faces have been blurred to protect the innocent.  Okay, they’re not that innocent, but I shall protect them anyway – I look after people I care about.  Even when they’re suggesting such naughty things.

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But, I am also true to my word when it comes to threats 😉  So take that guys.

The shower … I’m pretty sure that if you peered into my ear and past what is left of my eardrum, you’d find the right hand side of my brain is pretty clean.  As is the bathroom ceiling, inbetween the protective shower curtain lining and the non-waterproof ‘pretty’ curtain.

I’m hearing reports from home that apparently I didn’t get all the water – my son is stepping in puddles that I couldn’t find.  As I pointed out to him, ‘Water is invisible’.

And when your ear is ringing from being shot with a heavy stream of water, it’s almost impossible to find. It is!  Don’t try it – just trust me.