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About my kid
“What doesn’t kill you makes me stronger” I said, after loading myself like an unwilling donkey with 5 bags of food and hygiene products, a large bag of dog food under my arm and my purse.
“You chose those things to carry and then complain about carrying them”
So much truth to that.
I do that.
Burden. Then get so wound up that I complain.
Martyr.
I see it now, I honestly didn’t before.
Dishes in the sink: “Do them! They don’t need soaking!”
End up doing them.
And it’s not because he won’t, because he has. I have this OCD thing and my kid has had to live with all my idiosyncrasies and not only survived them, but thrived!
My son is the funniest person I know. Has the best taste in music. Has the most amazing things to say that blow my mind away …. And I had nothing to do with that.
I had the most amazing pregnancy with him. No morning sickness, skin glowed, hair and nails flourished. Couldn’t wait to ‘meet’ him. Honestly, after he was born, I missed carrying him.
But, he was here! And I bumped into his crib ‘accidentally’ so he’d wake up and I could hold him.
And I never stopped. Never stopped adoring him.
Anyway, this ones for you and thank you.
Musings from the laundromat: Early Journey and Earfulls
Journey is telling me “Don’t stop … Be-lieving” in the background. My view through very tired eyelids is that of the rainbow umbrella.
I literally JUST woke up, threw a pair of shorts on, grabbed my laundry, grabbed Nic’s and drove here.
Was immediately met by Glaucoma Man who waxed ever so unpoetically about his credit card company. And, “I don’t think she’s even in there!”
Doors opened and when I had a brief moment alone with Laundry Lady, she unburdened herself on me too. “He shows up at 7! We don’t open until 8! And he keeps peeking in all the windows.”
Can I go back to bed?
My laundromat shouldn’t be this dramatic should it?
Then again, I don’t have room to talk.
I manage to make a quiet Saturday night full of drama.
I’m tired of it.
Tired of drama.
I think, I’m just … Tired.
Glaucoma man is already emptying his machine of his wash. How is that possible? I still have 15 minutes left on mine and we got here the same time. Although, I did have that chat with Laundry Lady.
She’s looking less like a chipmunk today. Waiting for her antibiotics to finish their job so she can get the offending tooth yanked from her mouth.
There’s a plaid wearing, camouflage hatted man next to my machines.
Only men today. 4 men today. I find myself wondering about how they learned to do laundry. There was a time they were young and someone taught them.
I look at everyone and wonder about them.
But when I’ve just awoken, I don’t need to know everything at once. lol.
I’m ready to go back to bed.
And I won’t stop believing if I can just get a little nap.
Musings from the Laundromat: Debt, Dental Issues and Dali edition
Glaucoma man is in rare form today.
Complaining about his credit card company and how they didn’t send a statement – about customer service and how he couldn’t understand their accents.
Personally, (having worked in collections) I’m pretty sure you know every month you owe X amount of money and if you aren’t reminded, it’s still on you to send that payment.
His version was a lot more colorful and racist and while he was telling the story, he was too close to me for comfort.
We all have our personal space bubbles. Mine was being violated. But, he’s harmless. Well, physically harmless. His words are pretty offensive sometimes.
He just came over again asking me for advice.
I told him to play the age card. Tell them you need that statement as a reminder. BUT, I also told him what I just told you.
And he giggled. Yes, giggled. And acknowledged that yes, he did know exactly how much was due and probably could have popped it in the mail.
MEANWHILE, Laundry Lady is doing an amazingly accurate impersonation of a chipmunk. Poor thing has a horribly abscessed tooth. Yet, here she is working without complaint.
She picks up her antibiotics and pain pills today. So, she isn’t even medicated and still had a smile for me. As lop sided as it was.
The difference between people and attitudes astounds me sometimes.
___________________________
Three loads of laundry today. I struggled to the car under the weight of two weeks worth of wash.
I was back in California last weekend.
It’s hard to know it’s going to be a long time before I can return. But, I have my memories. One of which was visiting the Salvador Dali museum in Monterey.
The other, boarding a replica of the San Salvador.
But the best memories of course, were of who I was with – not what I did.
And I’m working on collecting those these days – and I don’t need a reminder.
Musings from the Laundromat – Tick Tock edition.
Long chats with my Laundry Lady and Glaucoma Man today.
I gave Laundry Lady my phone number in case she ever needs anything. She doesn’t have a car. Depends on her roommate to get her to work and home. She’s been working there for over 8 years – no vacation pay – no benefits. I learned so much more today about her.
She mentioned she hates working the morning shifts, but loves seeing me. That made my day. Because I feel the same way. For over 6 years I’ve waddled into that building, weighted down by my laundry baskets. And I can count on seeing her sweet face and her beautiful smile. I can count on her putting on the coffee and having a brief chat.
I’m making a point of being more involved and engaged with people in my life.
-Tick Tock-
Received some bad news recently about someone I love dearly … And it rocked my world. I’ll keep them anonymous, but, the news was the ‘C’ word.
Inoperable ‘C’ word.
And what angers me so much is that this person is so very good and kind and loving and giving. And too young for such a diagnosis.
This person has so much to share with the world and the world needs them!
It’s that stage of life now isn’t it? Late 40’s. Where you start hearing about people falling ill or worse.
-Tick Tock-
There are some other people in my life, who will also remain anonymous, who have been madly in love for over 41 years. I mean, seriously, deliriously and obviously in LOVE. Still get butterflies when they see each other. It’s palpable. Their love is something you can almost reach out and touch it’s that real. They’re ridding themselves of material things and readying themselves for retirement. They want to spend the rest of their lives traveling and loving one another.
I think that’s beautiful. And I find myself envying what they have in a non-green way. I’m happy for them, so very happy for them – but yes, there is a part of me that knows I will never have that and a part of me yearns for it.
-Tick Tock-
I’m flying again on Thursday – to see that someone special again. Spreading my wings, exploring options – overcoming fears and giving life a look.
I will say that I AM fortunate. I’ve done more in my lifetime than most. Traveled and soaked up other cultures, beliefs and people.
From France to India in a bus full of eclectic passengers. I’m forever grateful for that experience.
-Tick Tock-
Had an amazing day yesterday seeing another person I love. A dear friend and practically a brother. We grew up together in England. His mother is my God Mother and there was a point our parents, who are still dear friends, lived together. We reenacted a photo taken 43 years ago.
Here it is.
But as I was leaving, I had a sinking feeling we may never see one another again. And it made me sad and so very aware of time. Time and the passage of it. Of life and its beautiful uncertainties.
My son leaves in January. I was reading a Facebook memory yesterday (thank goodness for those by the way) and it was me sharing my gratitude of spending time with him. 5 years ago yesterday we were curled up on the couch watching ‘Up’ and I expressed how precious I knew that moment was.
I was in that moment and knew with my whole heart how important it was just to spend that time – because life is so fleeting.
I hope I never forget to feel that way.
No matter what happens, I’ll endeavor to cherish the important people and things.
Because once the curtain comes down, there’s no more time to say “I love you.”
And the clock ticks on. Life is in session.
Musings from the Laundromat: Moments, and how you can go home again
Checked the mail yesterday and came face to face, or rather, hood to face with a majestic peacock.
I hear him all the time and in 6 years, he’s eluded me.
We regarded each other for a moment or two, then I slowly drove around him to complete my task.
Those few moments though – kept a smile on my lips all the way home.
It is in the moments. I know that. I also know I forget sometimes.
Laundry lady just came all the way over to tell me the coffee was ready. The coffee she makes for me. There’s a moment.
Glaucoma man is here and has already chatted to me twice, excited to share his weekly news. Another moment.
These people who I share one day a week with who have made such a task as rising early on a Sunday to do chores a pleasure.
Another moment was turning on my ipad after stuffing the washing machines and being surprised by the fact that the WIFI is actually working today. (Obviously).
It hasn’t been working here for a while – to the point that I just stopped bringing my keyboard and pad. I didn’t get to tell you about my trip, which I had planned to do last weekend. I didn’t get to tell you how I successfully flew. Not just flew, but mustered the courage to peer out of the window.
I didn’t get to tell you how amazing it was to see my friends and marvel at the changes to a coast I used to call home.
They say “You can never go home.” But ‘they’ are wrong.
Because it felt like ‘home’ … From the moment I stepped off the plane and felt the immediate comfort and ease of hugging someone special.
It felt like home when I saw friends that I love, friends I hadn’t seen in over a decade. Held them tight – met children I had watched pregnancy announcements about and birth pictures on Facebook.
If felt like home on the water silently cruising the Elkhorn Slough thanks to my dear friend and Captain, Brian.
I laughed remembering how our dogs used to ‘escape’ our 3 and a half acres of romping room to seek out the slough mud – how my brothers and I had to fetch them and bring them back.
We always returned with the escapees excited and reeking of that mud, while we were exhausted climbing the final hill to home.
Home and memories.
And perhaps new beginnings.
I’m returning on the 22nd of this month. I overcame my fear of flying. And I want to make more memories. To treasure.
Debauchery Soup 