Letters For Lucas

Wonders, Mishaps, Blunders and Joy.. commentary on my life as a mom in the form of letters to my son

I’ve Earned This Pouch

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Memorial Day weekend is the official/non-official kick off to summer.

Summer means lots of time spent outdoors, which translates to shorts, tank tops, flip flops and [insert shutter here] bathing suits.

Like most women, I hate shopping for a new bathing suit, but with an ever changing body, Lucas’ swimming lessons and an upcoming trip to Hawaii (!), it was time to bite the bullet…

It was also time to face the fact that I can no longer pull off a string bikini. Not that I ever could very well, but thanks to my post pregnancy body, (now almost two years old) it’ll never happen.

Sigh.

Two hours and 19 suits in a variety of colors and styles later, (I am NOT exaggerating, I actually counted!) I came home with not one, but two suits.

Go me!

I went with a demure one piece tank with perfectly positioned ruching and a practical tankini halter, just like my mother used to wear.

Oh well. I’ve earned this pouch, I made a baby for God’s sake!

A big special thank you to Maggie at Everything But Water. Her patience and honesty were very much appreciated.

And before anyone asks, there will be no photos.

I hope everyone had a fun and safe Memorial Day!

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Left Behind

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It’s not an exclusive club.

Anyone can join and often do when they least expect it.

Dues are paid in tears.

The moment you lose someone close to you, the very instant you learn of their deaths, you immediately become a lifetime member of a group you never wanted to be associated with.

You are one of the ones left behind.

You now have a kinship and a bond with fellow suffers of grief and loss whether you like it or not.

It doesn’t matter if you lose and an aunt, grandmother, best friend or father, you now “get” it. Or, at least have the ability to understand a little better what other “members” of this grief stricken club are going through. You can empathize in a way few can.

When you lose someone, other people’s losses are harder on you. In part because it conjures up your own loss and because you know what they are going through. You know that kind of pain.

I learned yesterday that my cousin’s son, Zach died.

He shot himself for reasons that are still unclear to me, as well as the rest of our family.

I never met Zach. I regret that, not because he’s gone now, but because he was family.

I know two things about death: it’s final and a parent should never outlive their child.

My heart aches for Zach’s mother and father.

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This was absolutely the last time was going to do this. The final time she would ever put herself at risk. She’d been lucky up until now. Very lucky.

But, there were so many things she wanted. How could she give it up when merely entering the department store made her heart beat faster and her forehead perspire.

She did it for the rush.

She did it for the goods.

The racks and racks of beautiful designer clothing were too tempting. All her life she’d worn hand-me-downs. Not anymore.

She dreamed of owning a rainbow of make-up and perfume that smelled like money and now she did.

Which section should she hit today?

The shoe department was bustling and shoes were easy. All you had to do was keep walking…. straight out the front door.

The allure of the jewelry counter was as sparkly and shiny as ever. If that dizzy blond was working today, that would be a cinch too.

Keep your cool. You’ve done this dozens of times.

She gotten away with it before, in fact nothing she was wearing was paid for. She was slowly filling her closets with cashmere and silk and her ears, wrists and neck donned diamonds and other precious gems.

She wanted more.

“Sir, do you have these in red in 7 1/2?”

“Right away, miss.”

And there was nothing standing in her way today.

As soon as the salesman walked away, she let out a deep breath and thought, You’ve got to be kidding, $715 for a pair of shoes?! It would take me 10 shifts to make that much dough.

“Here you go, I brought them in gray too.”

“Wonderful, thank you. I’ll just take them for a little stroll.”

“Very well, I’ll be here when you get back.”

As soon as she slipped them on her feet and made sure that the sales clerk was a “safe” distance away, she casually picked up her over sized handbag and turned on her heel.

Keep your cool. You’ve done this a million times.

She walked right past the handbags and scarves and finally saw sunlight through the large glass door.

You’re almost there. This will be the last time. Just keep walking, you’re scot-free.

Heavy footsteps.

“Excuse me, Miss? Miss? Excuse me, do you have something you’d like to pay for?”

She was wrong.

This post is fiction and was written for The Red Dress Club’s writing assignment, Red Writing Hood. This week’s prompt: Write a short piece that begins with the words, “This was absolutely the last time” and ends with “She was wrong.” Constructive criticism is welcome.

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I Was A Senior Hottie

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With graduation season upon us, Liz of a belle, a bean & a chicago dog came up with the most awesome idea of revisiting our past by digging up our favorite Senior moments. 🙂

Or, in my case… Senior Sourpuss:
This photo went out with my graduation announcement. Really! What was I thinking/doing?
Love the cheesy cityscape background. By the way, I actually wore the same exact dress to my BFF’s rockin’ 40th birthday party this past February. For more on that (lots of fun 80’s photos), go here).
Graduation day. No cap or gown. I attended a small boarding school in northern Arizona and the tradition was for the girls to wear white dresses and guys wore suits and ties.

Wait a minute…

Could it be… is that a smile?
As a side note: I loved every minute of high school, especially my senior year. I was full of hope and promise, had a great boyfriend, tons of friends and was on my way to college. The world was all mine. So, even if it didn’t show on my face, it was a happy, happy time.

Also? I’m still trying to find my Glamour Shots.
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The Trouble With Trash

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I don’t recall having that many chores as a child, other than keeping my room clean; making sure my bed was made each morning and toys and things were off the floor and put away at the end of each day.

When I got to high school, it was all about keeping my grades above average and being home by curfew, a rule I consistently broke.

I do recall getting in trouble a lot, especially this one time I was on trash duty.

I loathed this task. I still do!

Don’t let anyone tell you different, trash is nasty, stinky, smelly and gross and trash duty sucks!

My job was to gather the trash from all rooms in our home and take it to the dumpster, usually just outside our house, but when I was sever years old, we lived in a cul-du-sac and the dumpster was (for some strange reason) several houses away. Maybe it was a communal bin or something?

I dreaded making the trek every single time I was faced with it.

Instead of making the complete walk, I found a short cut in the form of a neighbor’s storage shed half way between our house and the actual place the garbage was to go.

As you can imagine, it wasn’t long before my parents were notified of my dirty deed.

And not long after that, there was yelling and tears and then there was me on my hands and knees picking up every last take out container with food remnants, balled up piece of paper, yogurt container, banana peel, cans with liquid still inside, nail clippings, used Kleenex, Q-Tips and other unmentionables, chewed gum, egg shells, packaging, yuck, muck and every other disgusting item you can think of that we discard.

You see, while everything was bagged, it wasn’t tied shut. This was in the days before drawstring.

I threw up twice and I’m quite sure I wasn’t allowed sugar cereal or able watch The Donnie & Marie Show for at least a month.

I still hate dealing with trash.

This post is for Mama Kat’s Writer’s Workshop, Prompt #1.) Write about a time you got in BIG trouble as a kid.

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I’m A New Recruit!

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Today I’m proud to be at Sluiter Nation and tickled to be Kate’s latest recruit!

Come read about a store I loathe just a little more now due to a recent visit. It’s a good one.

I cried.

I’ll give you a hint, it’s NOT Target, but they do have a popular baby registry.

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My Three Favorite Magazines

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This post is for Jessica (My Time As Mom), Kate (Mommy Monologues) and Elena’s (Mommy is in a Timeout) meme, Vlog Talk. The prompt I chose was #1: Show us your 3 favorite magazines and tell us what you like about them.

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There Will Be Tears

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I have been watching since 1991.

I have laughed, cried, jumped for joy, believed, been inspired, yelled at the television, fast forwarded, re-watched, rewound, discussed with friends, read the books, bought the products, lusted after, learned, wondered, rolled my eyes and felt better about myself all thanks to a guest I welcomed with open arms into my home every day.

Relatable, smart, funny, and an excellent interviewer, Oprah is more than just a talk show host, face of a magazine, cable network and radio mogul, philanthropist, or one of Forbes’ most powerful and not to mention wealthiest people, she is an institution.

She makes me believe that if we ever do meet in real life, we could be friends. Her public struggles make her human and her giving heart makes her a saint.

Tomorrow, after 25 years, the final Oprah Winfrey Show will air.

You better believe there will be tears.

I will miss her daily visits.

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There’s A Time & Place

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In Target the other day I overheard an interesting (for lack of a better word) side of a conversation.

A woman on her phone was saying very loudly from the next aisle, to presumably her mother or best friend the following:

“…we don’t even sleep in the same bedroom anymore.”

“…we don’t talk, we don’t touch, we don’t do anything.”

Then she laughed hysterically. Presumably to keep from crying?

“…I just hope to walk away as friends, if that’s even possible at this point.”

Depressing, right?

That’s not even the worst part.

When she turned the corner to come down the aisle I was on, I discovered she was pushing not one, but two children in her cart.

Both looked to be a lot older than Lucas.

Children are so impressionable. I wonder what their home life is like?

How could she be to cavalier about her relationship with presumably her husband? How could she subject these children, whether her own or not, to such intimate details of her relationship?

It made me sad.

I have been through a divorce and it’s no fun. I thank my lucky stars every day that my ex and I did not have children together. I can’t even imagine putting them through something like that. I know couples break up every day and make it work for the best of all involved, but children often don’t really have a say, do they?

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Celebrating Taming Insanity

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Please join me in wishing Kristin (AKA KLZ) of Taming Insanity a very happy five year anniversary!

Today I’m over at her place sharing one of my favorite things about being a mother… milestones.

Comments are off so there’s no pressure, just stop by and read and if you don’t know already know Kristin, (are you living under a rock?) this is your chance.

Happy weekend, everyone!

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