• 15 minute posts,  Bad Mom,  Bug

    She’ll Be One Hellacious Teenager Someday


    I remember when Bug was really really little and she’d show some sign of being willful or naughty, I’d smile. I had this terrible superstitious fear, deep down, that she was too perfect and that meant she was like an angel and would probably be taken from me. Isn’t that how the stories always go?

    I don’t know why I felt like that. Maybe it’s rooted in the time my Guess Jeans that I loved so much got stolen out of my locker during gym. I know the value of a child and jeans are not really the same but I always feel this way about things that I love so much. Sometimes I don’t even want to put my laptop in my car because I’m afraid that I’ll get in a wreck and I’ll lose Bug, my laptop and my car all in one fell swoop. It’s ridiculous to be me inside my loopy brain.

    Sometimes when I look at Bug and find myself getting lost in her big beautiful eyes, her blonde cascading hair and her perfectly little bouncing crazy body, it’s too much for me. How did I ever get so lucky to have her? I don’t deserve her! I expected so much less and God gave me so much.

    But then the other foot falls and I realize God knew exactly what he was doing. He gave me the most stubborn, evil, drama-queen, devil-child who will eternally exasperate me beyond words. She might look sweet but try forcing her to eat a bite of perfectly delicious strawberry yogurt (that she picked out at the grocery store herself!) and it will turn into an hour-long, snotty, crying, freight train of emotions that can only be saved from complete and utter bloody ruin by eating a bowl of hot buttered noodles in the tub.

    I’m so tired. How will I ever make it to her teens?

  • 15 minute posts,  Moody Blues

    sad post

    Grandpa, Grandma and Rapunzel

    I woke up this morning crying. I had a dream about my grandma (who passed away ten years ago)… wait, don’t stop reading! This is not a blog about my dream!

    Why is it that blogging about dreams is so boring? I don’t know why this is true but even when the best bloggers blog their dreams I find myself clicking away. It’s just the way it is, I guess. Either way, this post is not about my dream. Besides, it’s just a 15-minute post anyway so you won’t miss much if you click away.

    So anyway! I dreamt that my grandma came to visit me as a ghost. She was so small and collapsed into herself in her ruffled lacy pink dress… just how I remember her. She wanted to hug me because I was sad over something or other but when I went to hug her back, she told me not to because all the other people in the room would see me hugging someone invisible and think it strange.

    That is so like my grandma to be worried about that and so much like me. Anyway, I woke up and I never did hug her. But it wasn’t terribly sad other than the fact that I miss her and I really wish she was still alive. I woke up crying just the same. It’s kind of weird to wake up with real tears in your eyes. I didn’t know I could cry in my sleep.

    Olive Alverna McConnaughy

    No matter how hard I tried to shake those tears, I couldn’t. They just kept coming. Everyone else in the house was still asleep so I sat in bed and thought and thought about my grandma and how the last time I had a dream about her it was the day that my sister-in-law CC miscarried her baby Ashley. Was Grandma trying to tell me that someone was going to die again? I really doubt that but I just felt heavy-hearted about it anyway.

    I walked out into the cold living room and called my grandpa. Big mistake. It was 6:30 in the morning and I woke him up. I’m amazed that he even picked up the phone. He’s been in the hospital lately and not well at all. He didn’t seem too upset at me for waking him up but he could barely hear me anyway. He has terrible hearing and I have a soft voice. Together those two things make it impossible for us to communicate. It didn’t help that I was fighting back tears and making horrible gasping sounds in between my over-enunciated sentences. I don’t think he understood a word I said. I hung up feeling frustrated.

    What a weird way to start my day. Go hug your grandma. That’s all I can say. I’m sorry!

    Note: the little girl on my Grandma’s lap is not Bug. It’s my niece Rapunzel.