Southern Woman on the Skids

  In my latest conversations with my friends, I am realizing that I am not alone in the dropping shoe moments. The moments that trip you up when everything is just rolling along pretty happily.I know everyone says that all people have the same basic issues. But now I can finally see it! It’s very liberating. Yes we all have variations but the themes are the same. Family. Work. Love. Parenting. Parenting. Parenting. That’s what seems to come up the most. These people wreak havoc on our hearts and souls as mothers.  I wasn’t easy on my mom. I mean I wasn’t Heather. But my desk was by the teachers. I got notes home. I was always the kid forced to clean out her desk during “Friday Freetime.” I remember one time running around our pool. One of my friends was chasing me, because I glanced back to see where she was and BAM! I face planted on the diving board. It was one of those vicious ones with the spicy white plaster like substance on top. The whole side of my face was bloody. I r...

Some days it sort of feels like you are holding your breath. Especially before the beginning of something. The beginning of school, a vacation, whatever.  The kids have changed so much in the last year that it feels like we are starting something new. Charlie is getting older and will be a teenager in a blink, and Zig is going to be a junior and out of the house in a blink. All this and Weldon is thisclose to walking. It’s amazing and overwhelming and emotional and outstanding.  And I am just here holding my breath and holding on to this exact moment in time.

  My friends and I have started doing this video group message app called Marco Polo. It’s so funny and weird and perfect for moms who want to stay in touch but don’t really have the time or bandwidth for phone calls. We have a group and we leave little video updates throughout the day.  We love it. I can see their kids, their homes, their spouses and sometimes their local friends. We all can be open about what good or bad is happening. We can talk and they can actually hear us. When you have a group of 15 female friends, there is a lot of talking over and interrupting when we are together in person. Just because we have to fill each other in on EVERYTHING and we usually only have about two days to do it. Now, I can drop a line about something crappy or wonderful and they can respond. I can see them and hear their encouragement right when I need it. And I am seeing a different side of them at that moment. I see them moming their babies. I see them sitting at their counters....

   Today was a really good day. My kids are happy. We have had good important conversations the last few days and the fruits of those talks are showing.  We didn’t do anything crazy or overly exciting. There was no trip to the beach or fancy vacation… We just went to help Rob move some furniture in his classroom and to run a couple of errands. but we were sort of all the team again. You know when you feel like things are right and good and everyone has been checked in with and you’re all kind of connected? That’s how today was. The kids were funny and fun and helpful. They did hard things. For Charlie it was math for Ziggy. It was being really nice to Charlie. They were thoughtful of each other and of Rob and I. They loved on Weldon which is always fun. It was just a good day. I know soon everything will change so I’m going to enjoy every moment of days like these. I just started reading this book called It. Goes. So. Fast. by Mary Louise Kelly. And it’s reminding me tha...

  Today was wild. I hosted my niece and nephew for the day. The house was busy and loud and Inwas exhausted. But it was so fun. Charlie took her little cousin out riding bikes. My niece busied herself with a model to build and Zig was in and out, helping entertain kids and doing little chores for me. As tired as I was so grateful for the day.  Whenever I visit my dad, his house is very clean and quiet. It makes me realize that I need to drink it in while I have it. So I hugged my kids a lot today. I apologized when my tired self got grumpy, and let them help when they could.  Rob and I collapsed into bed. I hope to get some good sleep so I can smile a little more at them and embrace the noise and chaos for a moment.

  My dad has this mug he used to take to work. It wasn’t like a travel mug so he would just set this open mug in the console of his metallic blue nissan maxima and coffee would spill everywhere. I knew it well because I was out “sick” during my elementary school years and would ride into work with him, where I would languish behind his desk on a pallet sipping cokes and eating those orange crackers with peanut butter inside.  The mug was a cartoon by Susan Boylan and it had this elephant on the ground covered in turkeys. On the other side it read, “Don’t let the turkeys get you down.” This mug made a very real impression on me. There are several turkeys that try to creep into our life and get Rob and I down. We quote this mug weekly.  So here is my advice for today. Don’t. Let. The. Fucking. Turkeys. Get. You. Down.  Also, don’t be a turkey. I mean, we can all be turkeys sometimes. That’s life, right? But just don’t be one. And if you are, realize it, make it right a...

  Tonight Charlie and I went to see Barbie. Charlie is a stubborn emotional girl that knows herself and what she wants. It’s hard to parent a kid like that. Even harder with a girl. Even harder when the life you live with this little person is at times complicated. But there we are.  So we are standing in the lobby of the movie theater in line for popcorn. I only have my phone because I am me and I never have anything but my phone. So I figured, I can use my phone to pay. But alas, this movie theater is broken and does not accept phone pay.  “Aw man. Okay, well let’s just go get our seats.” I say to my complex emotional stubborn daughter. How do you think this went? “Okay mom! I’m so excited to see this with you. Who needs popcorn?” “What?! No. I have to have popcorn. Let’s just go home. Don’t you have cash?!!! “I’ll pay mom. I’ve been saving up quarters.” I would love to say it was A. Hell, I’d love to say it was C. But that would make me a liar. I was not happy about th...

  Today was my birthday. My sweet husband surprised me with a Nailed It Challenge that my family all participated in which was a riot. We all ate lunch together then made cakes that were sad replications of fancy cakes. It was great. I was with my family. My dad was happy. My kids were smiling under our roof and my sister was laser focused on winning. Welles was in heaven with all the noise and attention. I savored every moment, because I know it will be gone in a flash.  I am learning, probably from my friend’s parenting experiences and my old age, that life makes some wild turns. I’m not really ever at the wheel. As much as I want to control things, I can’t. I have a son who is about to be an adult. He is making decisions for himself. I will try and guide him to make the best ones possible, but then it’s up to him. I had to let him go a little more today and it hurt. But Rob and I love him fiercely. And we will be behind him no matter where his life may take him.  It’s ...

The kids come home tomorrow and I am so excited about it. I have missed them and we have a lot to do. Charlie has a “homeschool prep week” coming that I'm not sure she will be happy about. But I am. I’m very happy about it. It involves cleaning and reorganizing her room. Goodbye chaos. Hello order and ease of use. I feel like if we spend the week working on it together, sort of Marie Konos-ing her stuffies and other things, that she will be forced to face down her clutter.  Zig needs to get ready for public high school. I’m not sure what that will entail, but we will figure it out. He is all registered so that’s a start.  I also am going to make the rounds of all the various appointments. Doctors, dentists, you get the idea. I was thinking today of the blessed freedom I will have now, at least with Charlie regarding all of the “things” that need doing. When she was in school there was so much less time. Now we are free to figure out how that will work best for us. Ahhh. It’s l...

   The last month has been full of exciting developments. I managed to barrel my way through building a new website, I added a little online bookstore, and now my darling sister has offered me a little pop-up bookshop space in her salon. I have created an account with the book wholesaler and ordered my first set of books. Only 22 books but it’s a start. Baby steps. While I'm writing and building the little bookshop, Rob is teaching summer school and studying for his certification tests. We are both cleaning and organizing to prep for the kids coming home and the year to begin. But we are planting some really amazing little seeds in our life. I’m sure some will sprout while others won’t, but that’s how it is, right?  I had a local landscape guy stop over yesterday to see if he could tame our overgrown and sadly untended back yard. He stared at the weeds and vines and shook his head. “ See this here? This stuff grows a foot a day.”  I mean if my weeds are so hopeful, g...

  I hate the heat. I was born and raised in Georgia but something got wired wrong and I am much happier in the cool climate. When my friends and I play the beach or mountains game, it's a no brainer for me. I want the occasional snow. I want crispy leaves to walk in, I want to just in a stream when it’s warm ina summer day but wear a jacket by a campfire on a summer night. I can’t understand sitting in muggy heat. I have friends that love the heat. They sit in it like little cactuses. So on days when the mosquitoes are lined up to take a sip of me and the air feels like hot wet toilet paper, I think of Highlands. Of the cool mornings reading on the porch. Charlie swinging beside me and listening to the creek.  I think I need elevation. I need the air to thin a bit for my brain to function. Then you can see things from a different perspective. A higher perspective. Things seem more ordered and clear from above. You can see where the rivers will turn and when the hill becomes a ...

  I have been missing the days of the landline. There is so much of everything today. So much information, so much exposure it’s all just too much for me to handle. And it’s certainly too much for my kids to handle. So when I got back Rob and I talked about how hard it all was, especially bringing a new baby into this world that’s spinning so fast. We talked about how one day, we would just have a landline.  And maybe we will. But until I can get a phone plug thing put in, I had a test run. I made a phone spot. I left it there all day. I checked in three or four times but that was all. It was amazing. I was completely focused on Welles and when she slept, I organized our bookshelves, I cleaned the mudroom, I did things. I did actual things. There was no scrolling pictures of lives I don’t have or pinning furniture I can’t afford, I just made my home more mine. I have weeded out the unneeded and dusted down the loved items I had neglected.  So if you are trying to reach me...

Today my friends and I all slept in a little later. Lingered over coffee a little longer. And then I hugged my friends and drove the hour home.  Rob surprised me with a pristine house and a happy baby. Mowed lawn, scrubbed kitchen, washed laundry, and cleaned clothes put away. This week is the last one before the year begins again. Charlie will start her homeschool, Rob will be back at work, and Ziggy will be getting ready for his junior year. So this week, I will take the time I have before the starting gun and try to just enjoy Rob and Welles. Appreciate that the house is ready for a new school year (thank you, Rob!) I may take Welles to the Botanical Garden or just stroll the aisle at Pike’s. I'll watch her grasp onto everything she can, desperate to propel herself forward.  Being with my friends always reminds me of who I am. Who I am at the root of it all. That I am an odd bird, I like to make people laugh. I like to plant things and watch them grow. That I am idealistic,...

  A day in the sun laughing and riding on a boat put me out. I missed this post yesterday. So I will post two today.  We spent the day catching up and talking about kids and parenting. We also made plans for if we won the lottery.  We all decided if we ever win, we would share the wealth with each other, and purchase a house that we could all share. We all would take care of our parents and kids of course. And a trip. We all decided that the winner would do an all expenses trip for the whole crew.  But honestly, we don’t need to win to make that happen. We will all take care of one another, whether we have money or we don’t. We will always find a place we can retreat too. Whether we have money or not.  Money is nice. But these ladies are my wealth. 

  Thirteen women in a house. All laughing and talking and eating and trying to cram in several years of life all into one weekend. Eventually we all just fall back into the kids we were when we met. We still complain about our parents. Only now we complain that they are fading and how fast it’s happening. We talk about boys. How our husbands are helping us or not. How we need them or don’t. I still talk about my crush and how I married him.  We play games. Some of us read the rules. Some of us throw gummy bears at each other while they read the rules. Most of us are here. But some of us aren’t. And we miss them. The noise of the night gets louder, then quiet. And we wander off to bed.  We are back to being kids together. At least for a little while. 

  Tomorrow afternoon I’ll kiss Rob and Welles and drive off for a weekend with my high school girlfriends. We all became friends around fourth grade so having them is by far one of my life’s great accomplishments. We will all talk about aging parents and kids ranging from toddlers to post college, we will laugh and we will eat. These weekends remind us that we aren’t alone. That we have sisters out there who are doing the same things and who will be there for us till our last laugh. I have no doubt we will meet up even after that last breath. At this point we just let the BS that doesn’t really matter fall away. At this point we know how special and priceless we all are to one another. So we will tend to each other with care and send one another home with full cups.  We will also sing too loud, tell inappropriate jokes and make prank calls. Mom would be proud.

  Yesterday I didn’t post a blog. I couldn’t. I drove to see my mom. It wasn’t like the other times. She was missing. She was there, in the room with me. But she was missing.  I had just been there less than a month before. When we left that time she grabbed the kids and I and hugged us all together and tight. She kissed me on the face and looked me in the eye. “I love you.” she said. Maybe she knew. My dad says that sometimes there will be moments of that clarity before they go. I am so grateful for that moment. That my Ziggy got a real hug and smile and kiss from a woman that helped him grow. That Charlie got to hold her hand and hear her Mimi tell her she was beautiful. That she saw Weldon, and knows we are all so happy and cared for.  I am so lucky to have had the time I did with her. The times she was spitting mad at me. The times we laughed over the kids or worried over them or just went through life. Cooking and talking and planning.  She would be so excited f...

  Today was a rainy drive through Atlanta. Getting up too early and coming home and collapsing with Rob. Today was missing the big kids and planning a day with Mimi and Dad tomorrow. So not many words. Glad to have a cozy bed, a sleeping baby and a husband that turned out the light for me. 

  The baby is asleep. Rob is getting ready to start teaching again tomorrow and I am sitting on the porch swing. It is thundering and there is lightning in the sky. It’s breezy and all the bugs are out. But it’s cool so I’m happy.  It’s been a busy week. Not all of it has been easy. I’ll go up with Welles and visit my mama this week. Just to sit with her for a while. Then dad and I will eat. When she was just starting to fade, that’s what dad and I would do. I was pregnant and we were both in mourning so we ate it all away. We would eat and make each other laugh.  Mom would have loved that. She warned me about all this when she was my age.  “Megan, don’t you worry about me. Just find me a nice home and go live your life. I’m serious.”  I wish I could go back to those moments and just breathe her in a little more. I wish I could hear her laugh. Or go shopping with her. I wish I could call her. I’ve been listening to old voicemails she left me.  “Megan? It’s ...

  I have been happily distracted from some of my realities the past few days because I am so happy about the little bookshop. After chatting with a mom friend about helping her find books for her sweet boy, I added a component of curating bookshelves on the website for clients' kids. I love it. I get to know the kids and families and then find amazing books that will help them in their lives. Whatever they are facing or dreaming of, O can find books to help it along.  I am a curator of my own memories with this blog. Certainly not all my memories are happy ones. But the ones that matter were incredible. The ones that shine bright and cut through anything dark, they are the ones I will write for now. My kids will know all the good and the bad of life. So for now I will curate the most beautiful, moving, hysterical and magical ones. The ones they can hold up in the dark of their own lives and find their way. 

  I have always always always wanted a bookshop. I remember going to the old Oxford books in Atlanta with my parents. The creaking wooden floors. The smell of old paper and the people that were all a little bit rumpled and frumped, like me. Rob and I tried to open a brick and mortar shop in our town, but the stars weren’t aligned, and the time wasn’t right. And then Weldon came along. She’s better than a book. So I put the bookshop in the back of my mind. And then I got busy writing and setting up my new website. In that process I stumbled across this program that supports independent bookshops by allowing “affiliates” to sell their books online. It was perfect. I could curate my dream children’s bookshop, with no cost.  So now I have my sweet little bookshop. I have curated all these little lists/sections. I have “Charlie’s Graphic Novel Corner” and “Mom’s Favorite Mysteries.” Charlie has insisted on a section for Mimi’s favorites as well, so that’s next. It’s small, but it’s...

  I am not an emotional person. I was raised by parents that were not touchy-feely. They led us with humor and smarts. Or they led Heather with smarts. I tried. But now, our family in such a major shift, I need mothering. And I have no mother. But I do have Rob. Rob is emotional and utterly in touch with all the feelings brewing in the house at any given moment. So even when I am hiding and crying alone in my closet, he comes in and holds my hand. He sits with me, makes me dinner, and tends the baby so that I can sit and obsessively search for videos of my mom before the free fall. Last night he kept asking if I was alright. Asking if I needed anything. If I did, he would get it. “I'm gonna take care of you, Megan.”  I am quick to put up walls. To shut down emotion. I locked away that part of myself for a long time. I built up my emotional callous, which sounds disgusting because it is. Imagine where that would have led. Heartless and hateful. It is painful to lose it, though....

  I may have mentioned that my mom was a writer. I may have even told you about a story she wrote that zig kept by his bedside. A story about her mom disappearing to dementia. Then Zig wrote his own story. About watching his mimi slip away. Zig is a man of few words, so reading that paper was like a little door o to his complex mind that I could open. I could read it and see how much he loves her. How much she meant to him.   Dementia is a nasty and hateful disease. It’s like an elevator. You know you are going down, but then it just drops and you end up in the basement before you have a chance to stop anywhere. That’s happening to my mom right now. She was already on the ride down. And then another drop. No warning just gone.  Zig and I talked a little about when we would go up again. How we would hug her tight and tell her we love her and make sure she hears us.  Zig and her, they were two peas in a pod. He would wail and wail and she would just sit and rock him fo...

  July is a big month for me. It’s Rob and my birthday month. Which, as an adult is a little different than it would be as a child. When I was a kid, July meant birthday parties, cake, presents from parents, grandparents and friends, dinners out, all of it. But as an adult, trying to desperately learn the art of the budget, it mostly means a slice of buttercream cake from Kroger and Rob letting me sleep in, cooking me an amazing dinner and trying to get the kids to clean their rooms.  Heather has created a culture of the birthday month which I respect and admire. She starts her “save the month” texts in April. I know what flowers she prefers in her birthday bouquet (lillies) and that a jug of sweet tea is a perfect gift. July as a kid meant telling mom who I wanted at my slumber party, what kind of cake to buy and where to order the pizza from. It meant going to the mall anytime from July 1 to 31 and using “it’s my birthday “ as a reason for her to get me something. It meant h...

  It’s hot. Painfully hot. So I sit on my porch, looking at the lawn meadow wishing there was a pool in the middle of it. I grew up with a pool. As soon as it was warm enough, I was ready to swim. Before all that, Dad had to use the little blue chemistry set thing to make sure it wasn’t full of bacteria and then Heather would vacuum it. Then it was ready to go. At one point there was a slide. Which is insane. Kids, a concrete pool deck and a plastic slide: that’s an eighty’s childhood right there. But when Danny wasn’t daring Heather to jump of the top of the slide, it was mostly long summer days of marco polo and categories and trays of sandwich stuff.  But there was always just the slightest hint of danger having a pool in GA. Copperheads. Someone was always given the unenviable task of checking the gutters for the sneaky little suckers. Charlie loves to share the story of how one summer day, when we had a crew of kids over to swim, I jumped in before the snake check. I reme...

  The last few days Rob has told me to relax on the couch while he makes dinner. We get those boxes of recipes. So you open the box and there are four meals, recipe cards and all the ingredients. It’s been fun and the meals are good and we save some money. I love listening to him bang around the kitchen, mumbling to himself about where the scissors went off to, or yelling that he forgot something in the oven. I always offer a hand but he insists. “You relax. Write if you need to.” So I sit back and watch him buzz around the kitchen while our bulldog snores at my feet.  It’s one of the long weekends when the big kids are away, so the house is pretty quiet. We will mostly cook and eat and watch movies. We will take turns with Welles or both end up on the floor just watching her discover all the things.  Rob made her a toy of colored water and glitter. Rob was so proud and it is her favorite thing at the moment. She has no idea just yet that he will be filling her life with ...

  So I have this hobby that Rob calls “Nancy Drewing.” I find everyday mysteries and try to solve them. Most of the time it’s things like, what’s that smell in the car? Or, why is my hairbrush sticky? But other times, it’s more exciting. What is happening in the abandoned medical building across the street. Or, what’s the deal with the overgrown estate down the road? These are things I lay in bed thinking about. Hence “Nancy Drewing.”  I love a good mystery. Or a ghost story. My mom raised me in Murder She Wrote and PBSs series Mystery! with the Edward Gory animated opening sequence. So when I started my new website and there was a section for my blog AND a podcast I thought, finally, I can flex my Sherlocking skills with the five family members that will listen. So I sat up in my daughter's room while she was away and I started my Middle Grade Mysteries podcast. I might be a little too excited about it. If you ever listened to my sister and I’s radio show, Twister Sisters, p...