I am a kid still in so many ways. I'm not that "cool" adult who's like "oh yea, getting a new kitchen....whatever"...I am still I AM GETTING A NEW KITCHEN I CAN BARELY BELIEVE HOW EXCITED I AM!!!!!! So recently I got a new car. A brand new, great smelling, I'm afraid to really drive it car! It got me thinking....buying a car has always been thrilling for me.
I got my first car in the Fall of 1990. My Dad took me to the Bozak Chrysler Dealership in Merrillville. For some reason, My Dad trusted this place. He knew ahead of time that I was getting the Plymouth Colt. It was the most basic Plymouth you could buy that year. I was pumped! My biggest concern was color...I chose red. I was dying to test drive the car because I knew that was protocol and who doesn't want to go drive a brand new car that's not theirs? My Dad's exact quote - "No, we aren't test driving. Do you think it's going to drive like shit off the lot?". I didn't care and kept on so he relented. Of course our salesman drove along in the back seat of this tiny car with his head nearly in between me and my Dad. He's chatting up a storm while I am happily driving. I thought this car drove beautifully. So Mike, our sales guy, keeps talking about how I live in Indy and he has friends in Indy and then he says...."I go down to Indy a lot, maybe I should call you sometime". (In my head...."are you insane to talk like this in front of my Dad????? HOLY SHIT!!!!) My Dad turns around and says "Mike, we're here buying cars NOT making dates". OUCH. Painful Silence. Nonetheless, that couldn't damper my spirits - I was GETTING A NEW CAR. My car payment was $198.48 which worked out perfectly with my highly paid position of Child Abuse/Neglect Caseworker for the state of Indiana - bringing in exactly $505 every other week! Perfect.
Four years later I proudly paid that car off. Three months later it died. Really died. So off my Dad and I went to Bozak. One step up, I bought the Plymouth Neon. I ADORED that car. It was a silver/lavender color and I felt like a million bucks.
I've had other cars in my lifetime - mostly out of necessity We bought a Ford Windstar when I was pregnant with Maeve because Rob's car had expired so he took my Neon. That Windstar was horrible. But I drove it for 5 years. Then I very briefly yet quite happily drove our brand new Mitsubishi Endeavor until I realized I was pregnant and there was NO WAY you could fit 3 car seats in that car. So back to a van I went and we bought a Chrysler Town and Country. A good car and it did the job but I don't remember jumping up and down - again it was purely necessity as I handed over my newer/sportier Endeavor to Rob. I drove that van for 7 years.
Last week when I knew/thought we were getting my new car I was just like a kid. On Monday I thought 3 more days. On Tuesday I thought just pretend it's tomorrow. On Wednesday I thought Holy shit - it's tomorrow. On Thursday I thought okay - be cool - it's tonight - keep it together - you're not 24 years old - be cool - OMG IT'S TONIGHT. I said a proper "good bye" to my Town & Country, thanking her for bailing me out when I had a 3rd kid. And then we walked into that Honda Dealership, I was like a kid who walks into the family room on Christmas morning to discover Santa DID actually arrive. I opened cars and smelled interiors. I tried to be "cool" - chilled - whatever - might buy a car...might not - whatev. Occasionally the sale's guy probably heard me say "OMG this car is beautiful.." or he might have caught me glance at Rob and mouth the words I love it. I will say this, I am a good negotiator (I mean that IS my job right?). I was cool. I got it DONE. We walked out with the keys. I love this car. It's a beautiful machine. It looks beautiful and smells even better. I still wake up every day and think oh yea, I just got a new car. YAHOO!
Tuesday, March 26, 2013
Monday, March 25, 2013
Am I cut out for this?
I will not sugar coat this. I have a horrible tendency to be one of solitude. Not in a "meditative" way but in a "don't bother me" way. With each passing day, I am increasingly starved for quiet and peace. Let me translate - that means NO questions, no interruptions, no requests, no debates, no problems, no papers from school to be signed, no field trip forms to be turned in....
I can become paralyzed with the feeling of "too much". I used to think it was because life was actually too much but lately I am beginning to realize - NOPE, it's ME! I can only manage so much. Why? That's my biggest question - why? What's wrong with me that the request for a sleepover just pushes me over the edge. Is it the actual sleepover? Is it just another question I need to consider? Is it that I am controlling and like my kids to just "be" in the house w/out leaving or others coming in etc. Am I too old? Am I hormonal? Is there something off with my thyroid? Am I Vitamin D deficient? WHAT IS IT??? Am I sick? Do I have a sinus infection? Am I afraid of sleepovers? (The answer to that one is YES!) When I was 27, unmarried and dying to "make house", I pictured myself with a house full of kids - romping around, me happily ordering pizza, baking cookies, the more the merrier....right? That was my vision. Was I just hoping that I would become that. Can I become that? Doubtful.
I have no answer. I wish I was different. I wish I was spontaneous and free wheelin' it. I wish it didn't bother me that Lily is at a friends which means that Maeve has to have a friend come over which means Pete's pissed b/c he doesn't have a friend over. What time can they come? When should they be picked up? Can they stay for dinner? Can I go ask Zach to play? Can I go to Open Gym? Can you drive? All I ever want to say, in a whiny voice to boot, is "I DON'T KNOW!". The problem here is I really don't know but there's no back up here who does know. When I get desperate enough I say "call Daddy and ask him" as if HE knows. He's at WORK for Pete's sake - how the hell can he know? But sometimes I just need another voice to say "yes, that's fine" or "no, that's not going to work".
I sound like a disaster, don't I? SOME days/weeks, I kick ass. I'm the Mom I envisioned. Some days/weeks, I accept that I am NOT the Mom I envisioned and we all have to deal with it. I guess I'll never know why I am so inclined to light candles and play classical musical to combat the natural chaos of running a family. Hopefully my kids aren't too scarred from my inability to truly go-with-the-flow. I do know they know I'm trying. I. Am. Trying. says the girl popping Vitamin D in hopes that, perhaps, that's my real problem.
Yea right.
I can become paralyzed with the feeling of "too much". I used to think it was because life was actually too much but lately I am beginning to realize - NOPE, it's ME! I can only manage so much. Why? That's my biggest question - why? What's wrong with me that the request for a sleepover just pushes me over the edge. Is it the actual sleepover? Is it just another question I need to consider? Is it that I am controlling and like my kids to just "be" in the house w/out leaving or others coming in etc. Am I too old? Am I hormonal? Is there something off with my thyroid? Am I Vitamin D deficient? WHAT IS IT??? Am I sick? Do I have a sinus infection? Am I afraid of sleepovers? (The answer to that one is YES!) When I was 27, unmarried and dying to "make house", I pictured myself with a house full of kids - romping around, me happily ordering pizza, baking cookies, the more the merrier....right? That was my vision. Was I just hoping that I would become that. Can I become that? Doubtful.
I have no answer. I wish I was different. I wish I was spontaneous and free wheelin' it. I wish it didn't bother me that Lily is at a friends which means that Maeve has to have a friend come over which means Pete's pissed b/c he doesn't have a friend over. What time can they come? When should they be picked up? Can they stay for dinner? Can I go ask Zach to play? Can I go to Open Gym? Can you drive? All I ever want to say, in a whiny voice to boot, is "I DON'T KNOW!". The problem here is I really don't know but there's no back up here who does know. When I get desperate enough I say "call Daddy and ask him" as if HE knows. He's at WORK for Pete's sake - how the hell can he know? But sometimes I just need another voice to say "yes, that's fine" or "no, that's not going to work".
I sound like a disaster, don't I? SOME days/weeks, I kick ass. I'm the Mom I envisioned. Some days/weeks, I accept that I am NOT the Mom I envisioned and we all have to deal with it. I guess I'll never know why I am so inclined to light candles and play classical musical to combat the natural chaos of running a family. Hopefully my kids aren't too scarred from my inability to truly go-with-the-flow. I do know they know I'm trying. I. Am. Trying. says the girl popping Vitamin D in hopes that, perhaps, that's my real problem.
Yea right.
Tuesday, March 19, 2013
It's only a basketball game...right?
I am an avid fan of the Indiana Hoosiers basketball team. I am also emotionally labile at best. So as a fan and as an emoter, there should be no question that this time of year is thrilling and stressful and soulfully satisfying.
Background - I grew up watching/loving IU basketball. My memory is mostly watching with my Dad and brother and brother in law. My Grandparents lived in Nashville, In - next to Bloomington so our fanaticism only grew when we were "in the hood". Thanksgiving in Nashville was a great way to kick off the season - we were together, different generations, cheering like lunatics...and it was only November.
I didn't go to IU. I went to Hanover College - about 2 hours southeast of Bloomington. But we were all "Hoosiers". We watched each game. And when the Hoosiers won the National Championship in 1987, we watched on a small TV that I borrowed in my dorm room - stuffed with people and oozing with excitement. That last basket....that shot by Keith Smart.......well, needless to say - HYSTERIA. We were screaming - leaping - hugging - JOY! My next thought? Call my Dad! I lived on the 3rd floor but ran down all of the stairs to the basement pay phone and dialed him up. Can you believe it? Isn't this amazing? My Dad and brother were so happy. My mom usually would play the role of fetching my Dad back to the game when he would give up because he couldn't take it anymore so I am sure she was right there monitoring it all. We hung up so excited and then the student body was just running a muck outside...in the snow - yes, a snow storm in southern Indiana in March - forever a part of my memory!
There's been other thrillers - final fours, trading victories with KY in the 90's, beating Duke to go to the final four in 2002, beating KY last year and now being back on top as Big Ten Champs 2013.
There have been lows. Knight - loved him/feared him. Loved his energy. Loved his sense of humor. Loved his love of basketball. Feared he'd pulically humiliate a player. Feared he throw a fit. Feared he'd loose sight of the program as his own image was such a distraction. Loved that he believed in academics. Loved how well he understood basketball. Feared he punch someone. Feared he push a player over the edge. When that era ended, sadness and relief were the mixed bag we Hoosiers were left holding.
A few years, I couldn't watch. Well - I'd watch but it didn't feel good. And not for me - I mean, I felt horrible for the players - the kids. NOW - we are back! It's awesome yet I am sure a TON of stress for the team and coaches. It's like all of our personal emotional basketball baggage is riding on the shoulders of their success and for that, I feel badly. Because it's just basketball. Right?
Here's to the end of the season - the tournament. A time period during the year that is magical and exhilarating and emotional and stressful. To me it's more than basketball - it's like watching my family bond in action. It's like that team represents my history, my connection to the world and my own pride and self vision is apparent in their journey. That's what it means to be a fan. I try to explain to the kids that being a fan is like being right handed...you just can't help it.
Background - I grew up watching/loving IU basketball. My memory is mostly watching with my Dad and brother and brother in law. My Grandparents lived in Nashville, In - next to Bloomington so our fanaticism only grew when we were "in the hood". Thanksgiving in Nashville was a great way to kick off the season - we were together, different generations, cheering like lunatics...and it was only November.
I didn't go to IU. I went to Hanover College - about 2 hours southeast of Bloomington. But we were all "Hoosiers". We watched each game. And when the Hoosiers won the National Championship in 1987, we watched on a small TV that I borrowed in my dorm room - stuffed with people and oozing with excitement. That last basket....that shot by Keith Smart.......well, needless to say - HYSTERIA. We were screaming - leaping - hugging - JOY! My next thought? Call my Dad! I lived on the 3rd floor but ran down all of the stairs to the basement pay phone and dialed him up. Can you believe it? Isn't this amazing? My Dad and brother were so happy. My mom usually would play the role of fetching my Dad back to the game when he would give up because he couldn't take it anymore so I am sure she was right there monitoring it all. We hung up so excited and then the student body was just running a muck outside...in the snow - yes, a snow storm in southern Indiana in March - forever a part of my memory!
There's been other thrillers - final fours, trading victories with KY in the 90's, beating Duke to go to the final four in 2002, beating KY last year and now being back on top as Big Ten Champs 2013.
There have been lows. Knight - loved him/feared him. Loved his energy. Loved his sense of humor. Loved his love of basketball. Feared he'd pulically humiliate a player. Feared he throw a fit. Feared he'd loose sight of the program as his own image was such a distraction. Loved that he believed in academics. Loved how well he understood basketball. Feared he punch someone. Feared he push a player over the edge. When that era ended, sadness and relief were the mixed bag we Hoosiers were left holding.
A few years, I couldn't watch. Well - I'd watch but it didn't feel good. And not for me - I mean, I felt horrible for the players - the kids. NOW - we are back! It's awesome yet I am sure a TON of stress for the team and coaches. It's like all of our personal emotional basketball baggage is riding on the shoulders of their success and for that, I feel badly. Because it's just basketball. Right?
Here's to the end of the season - the tournament. A time period during the year that is magical and exhilarating and emotional and stressful. To me it's more than basketball - it's like watching my family bond in action. It's like that team represents my history, my connection to the world and my own pride and self vision is apparent in their journey. That's what it means to be a fan. I try to explain to the kids that being a fan is like being right handed...you just can't help it.
Wednesday, March 6, 2013
Getting Old....er....
I don't know if 44 is the year that age catches up to you or not but I can say that I personally am FEELING it...in every way.... For years, I thought/knew I looked younger than my age. And for a long time, I hated that. I always "aged up"...so if someone asked me my age and I was 27 but almost 28, I was thrilled to say "28" and then I'd hear "you are, I can't believe it - you look so young". Yea yea...I really WANTED to be my age or older. Now someone asks me and I say "44" and no one says anything so like a fool I say "I know, it's crazy...... can you believe it......" The sad part, I'm the only one in shock that I am actually FOURTY FOUR!!
Can't remember...(and beyond a foggy memory - some things are BRAND NEW INFORMATION - like I've never heard/seen it before in my life)
Can't see - I need bigger TVs and bigger font in print weekly. I can't see street signs or my own make up job in a mirror for God's sake...Last week I looked in the mirror fairly satisfied. An hour later I looked at myself in the rear view mirror (a mirror that doesn't like) and saw I never rubbed in my concealer. Nice.
Can't hear - I can barely hear my girls talk to me - they are such a faint level and any other noise like music just make it worse.
Beauty - IF I ever had any, it's leaving me by the minute... I used to only wear lip balm - now it's a full blown preceedure just to look AWAKE let alone ready for the public!
-Old cute mole has turned into huge bizarre mole w/ brown age spots...
-Regular thin lips has turned into no lips
-Blond eyelashes have turned into NO eye lashes
-weird hair
-varocose veins
-rosacea
-wrinkles, dark eyes, bizarre gray hairs turning my already tri colored hair into another stratosphere....
Bad knees, bad back, stiff hips, morton's neuroma, planter's flascitis, eye floaters, have to pee constantly, blah blah blah....
The good news I still listen to pop music, I still try to dress hip and I still curse up a storm. I will hold onto these 3 things forever b/c you know if you see me wearing a turtle neck, listening to the Carpenters and saying "fudge" it's over for me.
Can't remember...(and beyond a foggy memory - some things are BRAND NEW INFORMATION - like I've never heard/seen it before in my life)
Can't see - I need bigger TVs and bigger font in print weekly. I can't see street signs or my own make up job in a mirror for God's sake...Last week I looked in the mirror fairly satisfied. An hour later I looked at myself in the rear view mirror (a mirror that doesn't like) and saw I never rubbed in my concealer. Nice.
Can't hear - I can barely hear my girls talk to me - they are such a faint level and any other noise like music just make it worse.
Beauty - IF I ever had any, it's leaving me by the minute... I used to only wear lip balm - now it's a full blown preceedure just to look AWAKE let alone ready for the public!
-Old cute mole has turned into huge bizarre mole w/ brown age spots...
-Regular thin lips has turned into no lips
-Blond eyelashes have turned into NO eye lashes
-weird hair
-varocose veins
-rosacea
-wrinkles, dark eyes, bizarre gray hairs turning my already tri colored hair into another stratosphere....
Bad knees, bad back, stiff hips, morton's neuroma, planter's flascitis, eye floaters, have to pee constantly, blah blah blah....
The good news I still listen to pop music, I still try to dress hip and I still curse up a storm. I will hold onto these 3 things forever b/c you know if you see me wearing a turtle neck, listening to the Carpenters and saying "fudge" it's over for me.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)