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Musings from the Laundromat: Catch Up edition
Everything I said that I would do while Nic was gone, I did not do.
I did manage to accomplish getting hooked on two shows.
Not only did I watch all the episodes of the Orange Is The New Black first season – but I decided to out do myself and see what all the fuss was about with regards to Breaking Bad.
54 episodes on Netflix. 3 episodes on ‘On Demand’. And the series recording is set for the new and final episodes.
Where WAS I for this show?? I think everything happens for a reason, so the reason I wasn’t watching Breaking Bad in ‘real time’ these past few years, was probably to spare me the agony of having to wait for the next episode every week!
I’m caught up now – and will be anxiously waiting for the last few with the rest of you.
I have interviews coming up that I’m excited about. One was going to be conducted today, but I asked for a delay. Not only is the topic one I have to research at length before ‘sitting down’ with my subject, but I knew I needed today free. (More on that in a paragraph or two. )
The other interview will be the long-awaited ‘Part II’ with Rainer. Just not sure which direction I want to go with it. I told him it’s time – but he gives me such freedom that it’s almost as hard to write as it is to pick something off an expansive menu to order!
So I took the cowards way out and put the decision in his hands. Then I’ll take it from there.
(At this point finding part I will take clicking on the ‘Interviews’ category on the right hand side of the blog, or using the search tool at the top right hand side.)
It’s been a long time since part I. But, Rainer and I have stayed in touch the whole time – so I promise there will be an amazing read coming up.
Now, the reason I wanted to have today free (other than doing laundry of course) …
My boy is back!
I was so excited yesterday! Couldn’t wait to get to the airport. I did the mandatory “Are we there yet?” “Are we there yet?” the entire trip to Vegas. Of course, I knew we weren’t there yet … but it’s fun to say.
I watched as person after person came through the little corridor – and then! My boy.
Yes, I cried.
The first thing Nic wanted was ‘American Cheese’. That bite of burger was almost as satisfying to watch happen as I’m sure it felt eating it.
Now, as exhausted as he was – after a ten and a half hour flight, and an hour and a half car ride back to ‘home’, we had a concert to go to. I gave him an out, but he assured me he could handle it.
After I quickly changed and swiped my lipstick on – he wanted to change his mind.
There is no cancelling after lipstick has been applied. (Especially if you’re me and don’t wear a lot of make-up.)
Write this down men.
There is nothing worse than ‘wishful make-uping’
So we went. But, knowing how tired he was, we didn’t stay for the whole thing.
I have taught my boy well – I KNOW how to ‘concert’ and he does too. Once the music started, he found the perfect spot at the stage for us to be.
My ear drums are well-trained, so there was no danger of having them blown out considering the fact that a speaker was right next to me – but I was in danger of having my hand stepped on by the singer.
Took some amazing video that I wish I could share with you. One day I’ll upgrade to have that capability. Then you’ll wish I hadn’t. 😉
So here I am, the laundry is done, and my bird is back in the nest and I’m drinking banana milk!
Nic not only knows how to ‘concert’ he knows how to ‘gift’ very thoughtfully.
These are just a few of the things he brought back to me from England.
Someone has been paying attention for the past 18 years. The Mr. Men book … and Alice – such huge parts of my childhood. The banana Nesquik – my favorite milkshake. He also gave me a Monet print of the Thames (I have a few Monet’s) and Beefeater chapstick. (I always have a chapstick next to my bed.)
Thought FULL!
Then came a letter … written in this card – and when I read it, I was undone.
I’ll keep the words to myself – except for this sentence, because when I read it I had to giggle.
I also felt awful – imagining him about to write an amazing, sweet, heartfelt letter and because he knows how I am, inserted this line:
“Before we go any further, I’m sorry for any poor grammar that might ensue.”
LOL!
Of course, the above funny picture is only partly accurate – I would have spelled ‘you’re’ right.
What he hasn’t figured out yet in 18 years, is that I completely abuse the rules for punctuation marks.
I’ll put that on my list of things to work on next time I’m left unattended for a length of time. And then I won’t get that done either.
‘Twas the night before England …
And all through the house, the A/C was stirring …
I’m not even going to try – because all I can think of right now to rhyme IS actually mouse, and I don’t think we have one.
We did it. Nic boards the plane tomorrow for his adventure.
So, tonight, we’re sitting in our pajamas, all washed up for bedtime – neither of us wanting to go to sleep.
Doing what we do best – being complete dorks together.
Watching funny YouTube videos and me … snapping silly pictures of us.
This next month or so … prepare for my descent into madness as I document life in the house sans Nic.
I’ll share his photos, his news and my increased bonding with the dog.
Musings from the laundromat – Lightning Crashes edition
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.
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.
Playing with the moon – and cherishing my son
A beautiful moment at close to four o’clock in the morning.
I had let Butters outside, and returned to my room. As I went back to retrieve my cream colored, insomniac manatee/sharpei/shepherd – I bumped into my son coming inside.
We had both remembered the moon.
We sat outside together, listening to the birds – in the dark, and staring up at that gorgeous huge moon. As dark as it was outside, the moon shone like the sun. We spoke of how the sky must have looked before electricity. We spoke of stars and places available to see them in total darkness.
And as we spoke, and sat in awe of that moon, I was filled with such gratitude and love for the relationship I have with my son.
When we both went in, he was wide awake – I got back under my sheets and he came into my room and sat on my bed beside me … “It’s like Christmas …” he said. And it did have that feel to it.
That up-too-early, but full of wonder and leisure feeling.
We parted, but that moment didn’t go unwritten in my memory bank. I love that he chose those words. I love that his memories of being up early and excited and us being together brought that comparison to his lips.
I awoke again at 5:30 and managed to capture the moon on my ‘real’ camera. Then I played with it a little. 😉
If you love someone – get them out!
Nic will be 18 in 18 days. I’ve struggled with this, of course, I want to keep him close. I don’t want his childhood to be over. I don’t want to lose what we have.
But God doesn’t have grandchildren.
Nic has his own life waiting for him. AND, it is HIS life. I can want things for him – as parents, we do that. But unless he wants something for himself, it’s not going to happen.
I could hand him a golden ticket to an Ivy League university – all expenses paid, but unless he WANTS to pursue academics, it would be a waste.
Tonight, my sons eyes lit up and I saw in him a ‘want’. A want that I can totally get behind.
My mom just returned from England. She was visiting my Nannie who just turned 90.
I was born in Windsor, England. Lived there until 1980, when we immigrated to the US.
Before that move, my mom and I traveled. We went from France to India cross-country. That deserves a post of its own. But suffice it to say, I experienced A LOT. We were crossing borders before they shut them down, Argo had nothing on us.
I digress.
Nics eyes were shining. We had been to my moms to collect the bits and pieces she brought back for us.
Photo time!
The English sweets I requested.
Nic with the Union Jack he requested
Me counting the English currency left over. No, I didn’t get to keep it.
Now look at this photo – this was taken around the corner from my house.
It says ‘Get Out’. I don’t know why. I don’t know who sprayed that on there. I’m sure there’s an interesting story behind the tagging.
Get Out.
Back to Nics shining eyes.
I still have a lot of family in England. And friends.
Nic has said before that he wants to go to the UK.
He’ll be graduating High School in May. My mom will be returning to England in July-ish.
I will be getting paperwork for a passport.
I will be saving every penny I can save.
I will push Nic out of this desert nest and into my home country.
I want him to have an experience. I want him to make some memories. I want him to be submerged in other cultures, other languages, other ideas and lifestyles. Nic wants this too.
I imagine him traveling to France, perhaps staying in a Hostel. (Hopefully not one out of that horror movie!)
Meeting family members he’s never met before. Spreading his wings and figuring out what he wants next.
I will miss him. I don’t want him just going for a few weeks – I want him to take complete advantage of being overseas.
I WANT to miss him. I want him to return (if that’s what he chooses) and have a purpose. Not be stagnant in a small town and enrolled in community college, while vying for one of a few part-time jobs in this area.
Hopefully, he’ll return with memories of adventures and an idea of what he wants to be and how he wants to achieve that. And I’ll support whatever that is too.
My mind is reeling trying to think of how to make this happen for him. What can I sell? How can I save? I will do this.
I will do it as if his life depends upon it – because in a lot of ways, it does.
Debauchery Soup 