Look. I know Mary has filled you in on the wondrous events of the weekend thus far but I must speak to that which she has not. Trust me, this is not an attempt to say she has missed something or that she hasn't presented an accurate picture. She has. It's more that what she doesn't tell you is how this affects a parent, let alone a couple; which Mary and I are. Though, there are those times when she gives me that look that says there will be a price to be pay. It may not be today. It may not be tomorrow. But it will be paid. You see, Mary doesn't play fair. If I steal your M&Ms it is only part of adult etiquette that something of mine will disappear and a smile will be on the face of the one formerly offended. For example; not too long ago I shot Mary in the behind with a water gun. Really I had no choice. It was my daughter's water gun and its a big water gun. Its a really big water gun. It's a bright yellow with a blue pump on the stock water gun and it was pleading to be used. Yes. I did. Right there in the kitchen and the look was provided. Within a few days she got even with me. A Keurig. A nice coffee maker indeed. I know you are thinking that this is no big deal but I'M THE ONLY ONE WHO DRINKS COFFEE! It would have been better if she had looked at me that day and said, "Why don't you just go to bed." That's the kind of fear I can handle but this "you-victimized-me-with-violence-but-I've-responded-with-love-and-compassion" kind of stuff is just flat out wrong, painful and not very nice! Sorry. A little side tracked there. What was it? Oh yes...the affect upon parents and couples.
Now, I'm not the fastest turtle in the race, but I do know that there are things that must make the head hurt. Living with with five women is certainly a meaningful experience. If you screw something up or say it the wrong way you will soon know the full meaning of what you have done! But there are things that make the head hurt. I'm not meaning give me an aspirin, naproxen or hammer to the forehead kind of pain. It's more like John Cleese's reaction in the Monty Python skit in which a simple spot was found on a customer's fork in an elegant restaurant. The kind where you clinch your teeth, roll your eyes to back of your head, press your hand with all your might to your skull and scream "the wound! the wound!" For example. You walk to the fridge and your diet pepsi, which was full last night, now only has but a drink or two left. You ask who drank your drink and of course no one can answer. So, you go through the process of elimination (I know...foolish) but when you get to the one in which you are 87.3% sure the response is, "there's still pop in the bottle, I didn't drink it all". It's not limited to such things as my soda, its any liquid container. I've come to learn that the rule is this. If the container still has about a quarter cup of liquid still in it it has not been consumed and if you ask "did you drink this?" it's "I didn't drink it all". If you ask "are you aware there are others in the house that may have wanted some?" the answer shifts to "I didn't drink it all". If you stress "I"m not asking if you drank it all, I'm asking if you consumed so much of it without concern of others wanting to have some of it?" the new and improved answer is "I didn't drink it all." My particular favorite happens to be things like empty ice cream boxes in freezer. What is amazing about this is that you have to leave the counter, which has a built in trash can, turn around, open the freezer door and put the box back in it. This is an increase in energy expenditure which runs contrary to the reason's given to such things as picking up messes, putting clothes away, letting the dog out, letting the dog back in, and getting a coaster for your drink. Do you feel my pain?
Let's talk potty paper! Oh yeah...I'm going there! Living with five girls I've learned...or I should say my son and I have learned, that boys are not the only ones who leave seats anointed with holy water.
But the real issue is that with a house full such as this there ain't no ply big enough! Plus the objective when using toilet paper is that the purpose of potty paper is to enfold the hand, let's liken it to say the size of a ball mitt...no, a hockey goalie's mitt...so that one may be assured that not only is the sphincter treated with the utmost of care but that all universal precautions have been taken to prevent the incidental exposure to...well....you know. Needless to say there are some household supplies that must be purchased in bulk at Sam's. Of course we did not broach the delicate topic of the complexity of removing and replacing a roll of tissue have we? If you have kids you know the song...every one sing with me! Ladies!....Men!......now everyone in Chinese! (thank you Steve Martin).
Of course there are those other things that make you wonder what is going on, why does he shave his butt....why does she have to line the tub with wash clothes before showering....why do they text us when we are in the same house...how do folded clothes show up in the clothes chute but no one knows how...why is everyone else's bedroom off limits to visitors but ours...how is it that gravity's pull will overwhelm a child in the ability to keep things off the floor but never keep them from scooping food off a plate...how many days is too many days to wear the same shirt, same socks and, oh, never mind...and how, oh sweet baby Jesus, can you hear the words "like", "so yeah", "uhm" and "I know" in a single sentence?
At our ages I am happy to say, Mary and I do not take any medications. We've never smoked, tried drugs and drink in moderation but here at Camp Estrogen I'm thinking it may be time to give any one of them a whirl! Then, here she comes, that sweet, wondrous Mary, recognizing the look in my eyes that begs to be put down with a cattle gun, placing her hand upon the side of my face, ever so gently, whispering, "why don't you just go to bed?" And I think to myself...good God...I'm going to die one way or another!"
Sunday, May 29, 2011
We Call This.......Saturday
Imagine cuddling up to your sweetheart early on a Saturday morning. And when I say early, I'm talking around 6:15; when a text message appears on the cell phone from your youngest daughter asking you to pick her up from her friends house for personal reasons ('nuff said). So I go get her and bring her home, help her feel better and send her to go lay down. Now, when I say lay down I'm thinking in her room. But, no, she plants herself on the couch in front of the television instead. At 6:30 a.m.? Really?! Okay, so I go back to bed because I'm sleepy and it's the weekend for crying out loud.
I get comfortable, cuddling back up to Loren when I get another text message, this time from our oldest daughter who is currently in NYC.
And I quote, "If you have time this weekend could you gather up things you don't want anymore from around the house? I'm gonna set up a garage sale next weekend. Got to make some gas cash for Bonnaroo."
Now, Bonnaroo is described as a Four-day, multi-stage camping festival held on a 700-acre farm in Manchester, Tennessee. Yeah. Think a modern day Woodstock. The tickets cost $400! Yes, $400.
So, my response was, "Let me get this straight. You want to sell MY stuff so YOU can have gas for Tennessee?" Her: "Yeah, that's about right."
I then advised her that Mercy Franklin was a block away and I would be more than willing to make her a psych appointment. Lets just say, she was not amused. Loren and I thought it was quite funny and we were laughing pretty hard!
It was then we decided that we would not get any more sleep and it was time to start our day. We had a very pleasant time at the Downtown Farmer's Market where we bought the best focaccia bread we had ever eaten; VERY dangerous!
We stop at the bank on the way home to deposit our middle daughter's paycheck because she couldn't, due to being at softball practice.
We got home and were promptly yelled at by the 11-year-old for not taking her with us. Uhhh, you're sick, remember?
We decided to head to run some errands to get a few things and then home to relax.
Understand that now it's about 5:30 in the evening, and we're tired. Remember, we didn't get to sleep in. We arrive home to our middle daughter asking if she can go hang with one of her girlfriends after she finishes watching a movie. I tell her no problem. After which, she promptly gets in to an argument with her younger sister, about what I have no idea. I just know they're yelling. I tell them both to stop, to which the older daughter responds by being nasty to me! I tell her she can no longer go with her friends.
The exchange that ensues between us is akin to having a conversation with a three-year-old. Mind you, she is sixteen. She kept coming to me saying, "I can't go out? Really mom? Why?"
"Really, Em," I reply.
Now you need to understand, she asked this same question about six times. And, I explained to her each time why she could not go out. I told her that when she is abusive to me, she forfeits her privileges.
After I feel she has gotten the point of why she should not have acted the way she did toward me, I tell her I have relented and she can now go out. She says she can't now because her friend got mad at her when she told her she couldn't go. I suggested that perhaps if she calls her back and talks to her I'm sure she would want to go out again. She said she would NOT call. I asked her why not and she said because she and her friends don't CALL, they TEXT! Jeez mom!
But guess what? She got a hold of her friend, and they went out.
We decide to go to Hy-Vee to get some things for dinner. At the grocery store I get a call from the aforementioned middle daughter saying that she tried to put gas in her car and her card said there was no money in the account. I explain it's because it's SATURDAY and the processing won't be complete until TUESDAY since Monday is a holiday!!
"But mom I need gas! I only have a quarter tank!" Huh? I drive a Yukon! A quarter tank is about all I ever have and I have to sell blood to get that! So Loren and I agree to go help her get more gas (whatever!), and ask where she is. She is at the Kum & Go at the corner of 70th and Douglas. When I start to ask why not the Git & Go that's closer to our house and closer to where we are I stop myself. Please refer a the former post.
On our way to rescue her she sent a text which started a conversation which can only be described as....well....you decide.
"Is it illegal to stay parked by the gas pump if you're not getting gas?" Oh, we thought we could have so much fun with this.
So I sent her "YES!"
"Really?!" She asks.
"Yes, it's illegal! Act like you're using the pump! Hurry!" I text. And "it's also dangerous to use your cell phone while near a gas pump!"
"No it's not!" She responds.
"Uh, yeah! Batteries, flammable liquids, sparks!" I reply.
"This is Loren talking," She sends.
"Nope, Loren's driving," I text.
"Really?" she asks.
"YES!" I reply.
"Right."
"Look it up!" I send.
After that we went home. We gave up; we surrendered. We were exhausted!
Just a typical Saturday in the Strait-Munyon household.
I get comfortable, cuddling back up to Loren when I get another text message, this time from our oldest daughter who is currently in NYC.
And I quote, "If you have time this weekend could you gather up things you don't want anymore from around the house? I'm gonna set up a garage sale next weekend. Got to make some gas cash for Bonnaroo."
Now, Bonnaroo is described as a Four-day, multi-stage camping festival held on a 700-acre farm in Manchester, Tennessee. Yeah. Think a modern day Woodstock. The tickets cost $400! Yes, $400.
So, my response was, "Let me get this straight. You want to sell MY stuff so YOU can have gas for Tennessee?" Her: "Yeah, that's about right."
I then advised her that Mercy Franklin was a block away and I would be more than willing to make her a psych appointment. Lets just say, she was not amused. Loren and I thought it was quite funny and we were laughing pretty hard!
It was then we decided that we would not get any more sleep and it was time to start our day. We had a very pleasant time at the Downtown Farmer's Market where we bought the best focaccia bread we had ever eaten; VERY dangerous!
We stop at the bank on the way home to deposit our middle daughter's paycheck because she couldn't, due to being at softball practice.
We got home and were promptly yelled at by the 11-year-old for not taking her with us. Uhhh, you're sick, remember?
We decided to head to run some errands to get a few things and then home to relax.
Understand that now it's about 5:30 in the evening, and we're tired. Remember, we didn't get to sleep in. We arrive home to our middle daughter asking if she can go hang with one of her girlfriends after she finishes watching a movie. I tell her no problem. After which, she promptly gets in to an argument with her younger sister, about what I have no idea. I just know they're yelling. I tell them both to stop, to which the older daughter responds by being nasty to me! I tell her she can no longer go with her friends.
The exchange that ensues between us is akin to having a conversation with a three-year-old. Mind you, she is sixteen. She kept coming to me saying, "I can't go out? Really mom? Why?"
"Really, Em," I reply.
Now you need to understand, she asked this same question about six times. And, I explained to her each time why she could not go out. I told her that when she is abusive to me, she forfeits her privileges.
After I feel she has gotten the point of why she should not have acted the way she did toward me, I tell her I have relented and she can now go out. She says she can't now because her friend got mad at her when she told her she couldn't go. I suggested that perhaps if she calls her back and talks to her I'm sure she would want to go out again. She said she would NOT call. I asked her why not and she said because she and her friends don't CALL, they TEXT! Jeez mom!
But guess what? She got a hold of her friend, and they went out.
We decide to go to Hy-Vee to get some things for dinner. At the grocery store I get a call from the aforementioned middle daughter saying that she tried to put gas in her car and her card said there was no money in the account. I explain it's because it's SATURDAY and the processing won't be complete until TUESDAY since Monday is a holiday!!
"But mom I need gas! I only have a quarter tank!" Huh? I drive a Yukon! A quarter tank is about all I ever have and I have to sell blood to get that! So Loren and I agree to go help her get more gas (whatever!), and ask where she is. She is at the Kum & Go at the corner of 70th and Douglas. When I start to ask why not the Git & Go that's closer to our house and closer to where we are I stop myself. Please refer a the former post.
On our way to rescue her she sent a text which started a conversation which can only be described as....well....you decide.
"Is it illegal to stay parked by the gas pump if you're not getting gas?" Oh, we thought we could have so much fun with this.
So I sent her "YES!"
"Really?!" She asks.
"Yes, it's illegal! Act like you're using the pump! Hurry!" I text. And "it's also dangerous to use your cell phone while near a gas pump!"
"No it's not!" She responds.
"Uh, yeah! Batteries, flammable liquids, sparks!" I reply.
"This is Loren talking," She sends.
"Nope, Loren's driving," I text.
"Really?" she asks.
"YES!" I reply.
"Right."
"Look it up!" I send.
After that we went home. We gave up; we surrendered. We were exhausted!
Just a typical Saturday in the Strait-Munyon household.
Monday, May 23, 2011
Did They Really Say That?
"They're punishing me for my success!"
Said by a daughter during her senior year in high school when she failed to communicate with her employer for three weeks about all of her extra curricular activities that would prevent her from working. When she finally talked to them, they had assumed she had quit, and were perturbed that she had not been in contact.
"I'm twenty years old. You don't have to tell me how to share."
Said by a daughter who assumes what's yours is hers and what's hers is hers.
"I can't drive that direction because I don't go that way!"
Said by a daughter when asked why she didn't drive a certain route so that she could get gas at a closer station than the one she usually went to on the way to school. But because this gas station wasn't on the school route, she couldn't go there, even though it was closer to home. So, she asked her dad to drive her to school because she didn't have enough gas in her car to get to school.
"Michael Jackson....Michael Jackson.....I'm going to marry Michael Jackson one day! Michael Jackson is my uncle!"
Said by a daughter who is a...you guessed it...Michael Jackson fanatic. Um, Michael Jackson is dead.
"My bottom is the most sensitive part of my body!"
Said by a daughter who was wrestling with Loren. But then the more he wrestles with her, you can throw in anywhere there's connective tissue.
"I could have $300 in my pocket tomorrow!"
Said by a son who is currently unemployed. Um....we don't want to know. Hence, we don't ask.
Said by a daughter during her senior year in high school when she failed to communicate with her employer for three weeks about all of her extra curricular activities that would prevent her from working. When she finally talked to them, they had assumed she had quit, and were perturbed that she had not been in contact.
"I'm twenty years old. You don't have to tell me how to share."
Said by a daughter who assumes what's yours is hers and what's hers is hers.
"I can't drive that direction because I don't go that way!"
Said by a daughter when asked why she didn't drive a certain route so that she could get gas at a closer station than the one she usually went to on the way to school. But because this gas station wasn't on the school route, she couldn't go there, even though it was closer to home. So, she asked her dad to drive her to school because she didn't have enough gas in her car to get to school.
"Michael Jackson....Michael Jackson.....I'm going to marry Michael Jackson one day! Michael Jackson is my uncle!"
Said by a daughter who is a...you guessed it...Michael Jackson fanatic. Um, Michael Jackson is dead.
"My bottom is the most sensitive part of my body!"
Said by a daughter who was wrestling with Loren. But then the more he wrestles with her, you can throw in anywhere there's connective tissue.
"I could have $300 in my pocket tomorrow!"
Said by a son who is currently unemployed. Um....we don't want to know. Hence, we don't ask.
Saturday, May 21, 2011
OWIE!!
Today Loren and I decided we were going to try walking a couple times a week in order to get some exercise. We walked for about an hour and it was wonderful. It was after the morning rain and the air smelled so fresh and invigorating. I was very much looking forward to the next opportunity to walk with my baby. But then, once again, fate intervened.....
Later in the day, in the process of responding to my eleven-year-old's screams of anger from her room that the dog had gotten in and pooped on her floor, I became injured. Yes, I tripped on the wooden stairs and in the process ripped the toenail right off the big toe of my right foot. Completely pulled it off. The odd thing was, I stood there staring at it in disbelief, sort of disembodied. What the heck? My toenail? Really? Are you kidding me?! Interestingly enough, it never really hurt except for putting my foot in cold water to slow the flow of blood. My wonderful sixteen-year-old daughter ran to Walgreen's for medical supplies so that my sweet man could the play role of doctor and bandage my toe for me (he says he can do this because he stayed at a Holiday Inn Express). So now here I sit, blogging about my exploits of my wounded appendage. I wonder if the rapture would have been easier?
Later in the day, in the process of responding to my eleven-year-old's screams of anger from her room that the dog had gotten in and pooped on her floor, I became injured. Yes, I tripped on the wooden stairs and in the process ripped the toenail right off the big toe of my right foot. Completely pulled it off. The odd thing was, I stood there staring at it in disbelief, sort of disembodied. What the heck? My toenail? Really? Are you kidding me?! Interestingly enough, it never really hurt except for putting my foot in cold water to slow the flow of blood. My wonderful sixteen-year-old daughter ran to Walgreen's for medical supplies so that my sweet man could the play role of doctor and bandage my toe for me (he says he can do this because he stayed at a Holiday Inn Express). So now here I sit, blogging about my exploits of my wounded appendage. I wonder if the rapture would have been easier?
Saturday, May 14, 2011
Yes, Love Makes You Crazy
It's been said that love can make you crazy. It's also said everything comes gradually, but at its appointed hour. In our case, both are true. Loren is the love of my life, and has been since the first time I saw him on that beautiful Saturday evening in October of 1979 (yes, we are that old already!). I was a junior at Dowling. My girlfriends and I, being the cool chicks we were, had been scooping the loop in downtown Des Moines when we met some guys who were juniors at Roosevelt. We yelled back and forth between the cars, participating in the time honored ritual of flirting. Ah the innocence of youth. We made an arrangement to have a couple of the guys get into my car, and a couple of my friends move over to the other car. You'd never do that today (or at least MY daughters better not!). We drove around town for awhile until one of the of the young men suggested we drive over by his house on Cottage Grove to see what action was happening there and if his neighbor, a senior at Roosevelt, might be home. As we pulled up and parked, this amazing looking boy came out of the front door of his house and walked down to join our group. We all started talking with each other and I tried to concentrate on the conversation, but my attention was focused only on him. You know those movie plots where the girl sees the really hot guy walking toward her, and it's all slow motion, and time seems to stand still? Well, that's how it was for me when I laid eyes on him. He was slender, muscular and really handsome. He was dressed in a t-shirt, blue jeans and tennis shoes and had this way of walking that made me want to watch him forever. He also had the most amazing smile that was warm, kind and still really sexy. Amazingly enough, he walked right toward me and struck up a conversation. He said his name was Loren Strait and as soon as he smiled at me everyone else in the group disappeared. It was as if it was just the two of us, and we talked for what seemed like hours. I was in love. I had never felt anything like it before.
As it started getting late and we realized we would have to leave, he asked me if he could call me. On the outside I was calm, and, you know, like I said, really cool. On the inside I was screaming, "Hell yes, you can call me!!!!!!" So I gave him my number (I couldn't write it fast enough!). Soon after we started dating and spent as much time together as we could. We went to football games, basketball games, movies, out for pizza; all the things high school kids did back then. He introduced me to several of his good friends, and they immediately became mine. We were a tight group who shared a lot of fun and laughter. We enjoyed the same music, the same humor, the same music, the same clothing styles. Did I mention the music? Music was very important to us. We would drive around for hours with the radio blasting Eagles, or Queen, or STYX. Every couple has their song. Loren and I had two: Longer by Dan Fogelberg, and Babe by STYX. Funky Town by Lipps Inc. was the deviant song that Loren and Beej would sing along with, while Karen and I would laugh and try to insert something during the duet. But the group favorite was Paradise By the Dashboard Lights by Meatloaf. Every time that song played we'd sing at the top of our lungs! All of us. Together. It didn't matter that we didn't sound good. We were having fun!
But Loren and I were inseparable, committed to one another, and madly in love. I think he asked me to marry him after only a couple of weeks. I, of course, said yes!! We had it all planned out, you know. We would graduate high school, go to college, get our degrees, get married and have a wonderful life together. It was going to be the fairy tale everyone hopes for! Life would be perfect!
But since fate always interrupts the best of plans; we didn't even end up staying together through his graduation that spring. He went off to college and I still had one more year of high school to endure. We did stay in touch a bit through my senior year, through letters and a few visits. I had even asked him to take me to my senior prom. But he ended up breaking his ankle, and I ended up going with someone else.
We parted ways after that until about two years later. I was driving through downtown again when I saw a man jogging. He was a familiar looking figure, and as I was passing him I turned to look and was so surprised I almost crashed my car into a telephone pole. It was Loren! I stopped the car, called his name and he came over to talk to me. He got into my car, we chatted about life and destiny, and where our paths had taken us. We knew we still had very strong feelings for each other so we decided to try again. We dated for a few short months, but it wasn't meant to be. We broke up again. Here's where your mind should flash to Chris Farley on Saturday Night Live as he's hitting his head screaming, "Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!" with me in the role of Chris Farley.
We followed the same paths just not together; college graduations, marriages, children, jobs, homes, divorces, aging families; until suddenly over twenty years had come and gone. Then one summer afternoon I was picking up my youngest daughter from daycare. I signed her out, grabbed her belongings from her cubbie and headed out the door toward the car. As I was walking across the parking lot I heard a familiar voice behind me say, "I know you !" I stopped dead in my tracks, certain I was hallucinating. It couldn't be. There was no way. Had I really heard that wonderfully familiar voice? I turned slowly and there he was! Loren! After all the time that had passed he hadn't changed at all! He was still handsome and charming, with that wonderful smile I remembered so well! I was back in 1979, with all the old feelings rushing back so forcefully I thought I would faint. Now, I had thought of him often over the years, wondering where he was, what he was doing, if he was happy. I had even told my daughters about the fact that he was my first love and how I hoped that they would be fortunate enough to find someone like him.
So there we were, having a conversation about where we'd been and what we'd been doing, catching up on family news. He told me he had married and had two children, a boy and a girl. I told him I had also married and had three children, all girls. He told me he had fulfilled his career dream. I told him that I was happy for him. We parted ways after that and didn't see each other for almost a year until we ran into each other at daycare again. I had been thinking of him constantly over that time, enduring some painful personal issues. But we knew we wanted to be together, and we decided that we would no longer put it off. We had already waited twenty-six years, we felt we were ready for a relationship. We have been together ever since. I cannot picture myself without him. He is the love of my life; the other half of me. You could say we are lucky that we've been given another chance at our life together, or that it's just coincidence that we met again after so many years. I prefer to think we have finally reached our appointed hour. That perfect life we dreamed of having as kids is certainly NOT perfect. And we are no longer the kids we were all those years ago. But it is our life, and it's the kind of life that is perfect for us. We work on it together, always talking, always touching, always laughing, always loving. And with 5 kids between us, it's always interesting and lively. So maybe we are crazy, but it's a good crazy. I wouldn't trade it for any other life. And that's how it should be. Loren you are my life and my love and together we are home. Grow older with me. ;-)
Mary
Okay, so you've heard her side of it. Now it's time for the stuff your mom won't let you talk about....well, okay, I'm not going to go there but I will tell you how we see this very much akin to one another. It truly was an October evening when I heard voices out in front of my house. Jack, my neighbor was out there with women I had not seen before...which means they were people who really didn't know him. As I spied through the window I saw her. I didn't know who she was but I was going to find out. Promptly I walked outside and joined the conversation. Mary, Julie and Monica were standing there. All I could see was Mary. Those eyes. That incredible smile and a laugh that lit up the night sky like none other I had ever seen. We all talked, laughed and before it was over I had a phone number. Yep. We dated. She talked. I drooled. She smiled. I drooled. She held my hand. You know where this goes. Love. Yes, young, yes idealistic, yes unenlightened but meaningful and powerful nonetheless. I was enamored with her and couldn't understand how she could let me get away with all the insanity that came with being around my friends. Mary became a fully enmeshed part of my life. My friends, who were and are not to this day to be confused with stable individuals, were now hers. Especially Beej and Karen. We spent much time together and often, very often, you would find Mary and Karen rolling their eyes at the antics of two young high school boys. This is just a small glimpse of what occurred from early fall to early spring. As Mary pointed out life did take a road travelled by many. Yet, that road seemed to be more of a winding path that would turn in upon itself. Mary and I met shortly after high school and tried again. Then later when she was well into college. That is when the roads truly did diverge. I cannot tell you how many times I would think of Mary through the years while I was off getting my bachelors and masters degrees. I would hear a laugh that was amazingly similar or see that same kind of smile I saw from her wondrous face. I would hear the songs that reflected that time in our life and cherished those that were designated as "ours". You know the ones: Babe by Styx and Longer by Dan Fogelberg...but of course so many others as well. We found great similarity in music though I would have to admit it must truly have been love that kept her tolerant of my strong penchant for Gary Numan. Yeah thats right. I said it. Gary Numan! Years passed. I moved to Missouri, Indiana, Kansas and finally back to Iowa. Who would have known she would have been there. I stood behind her and those emotions that tell the heart to say something, anything, led me to say one of the most intelligent things I've ever said..."I know you". I know you? Really? Is that what I said?The words came out and she turned and that was it. Again. My heart found it's home. So here we are. Two hearts and five amazing children that bring tears of joy. Why five? Because if there was six I would be vexed enough to have to try to come up with my own words to the tune of the Brady Bunch and that's just not a place I want to go! Well, let's be more accurate. The day we moved into one household it was two hearts, five kids, two dogs, two cats, two hamsters and a snake! Oh yeah...a snake! Not some poor little colorful "oh let it lick your finger" kind of snake. A constrictor. I told the boy "no", I'm confident I did but there it was larger than life...well larger in the middle due to the rat it just ate...blecht! Here we are. Mary and I. She continues to be the most beautiful woman I have ever known and when she puts her hand to the side of my face (gently... she's a pincher not a smacker...praise be to God) all the worry and frustration and struggle of life fades away. She is my home, my conversation partner, my confidant, my playmate, my friend, my love, and so much more. Each day presents itself with the opportunity for fulfillment and I can say that such is the case not because of me or her but because we do this together. In this small house of seven, pets not included but batteries are found in the kitchen drawer to the far left, there is laughter, frustration, thoughtfulness, sheer lunacy, and especially in the summer months Smirnoff Ice or a good fruitful bottle of Iowa wine. It is amazing how different each child is and how the differences of history and child rearing come to play. Oh, you may think it's simply a package of Ramen noodles but to some poor boy surrounded by females of lesser tolerance the act of eating the last package can lead to an elongated endeavor of enterprising estrogen plotting his demise! We have stories to tell. Experiences to share. Blending a family is a real hoot! I'm almost fifty...I can say hoot if I want to! Not only do we want to share the insanity and laughter but we want to capture the moments that fade so fleetingly like a road that presents itself again and again but is lost in the simple glancing of eyes to another direction. Ours is a road not of regret but of joy in the rediscovery of finding one's heart and the gift of love once lost along the way. I am still madly in love with you Mary and I am thankful that we are here, home, together. My kids, your kids, all our kids, and with it the stuff that makes this house a place of mayhem and pondering. After strong debate we have decided that parents are not to eat their young not so much because the human body really doesn't like that much protein but because they are under our skin enough! Seriously, they are wonderful, unique (like everyone else), intelligent, witty, creative and ours. I revel in journeying this road with you. Mary, I love you.
Loren
As it started getting late and we realized we would have to leave, he asked me if he could call me. On the outside I was calm, and, you know, like I said, really cool. On the inside I was screaming, "Hell yes, you can call me!!!!!!" So I gave him my number (I couldn't write it fast enough!). Soon after we started dating and spent as much time together as we could. We went to football games, basketball games, movies, out for pizza; all the things high school kids did back then. He introduced me to several of his good friends, and they immediately became mine. We were a tight group who shared a lot of fun and laughter. We enjoyed the same music, the same humor, the same music, the same clothing styles. Did I mention the music? Music was very important to us. We would drive around for hours with the radio blasting Eagles, or Queen, or STYX. Every couple has their song. Loren and I had two: Longer by Dan Fogelberg, and Babe by STYX. Funky Town by Lipps Inc. was the deviant song that Loren and Beej would sing along with, while Karen and I would laugh and try to insert something during the duet. But the group favorite was Paradise By the Dashboard Lights by Meatloaf. Every time that song played we'd sing at the top of our lungs! All of us. Together. It didn't matter that we didn't sound good. We were having fun!
But Loren and I were inseparable, committed to one another, and madly in love. I think he asked me to marry him after only a couple of weeks. I, of course, said yes!! We had it all planned out, you know. We would graduate high school, go to college, get our degrees, get married and have a wonderful life together. It was going to be the fairy tale everyone hopes for! Life would be perfect!
But since fate always interrupts the best of plans; we didn't even end up staying together through his graduation that spring. He went off to college and I still had one more year of high school to endure. We did stay in touch a bit through my senior year, through letters and a few visits. I had even asked him to take me to my senior prom. But he ended up breaking his ankle, and I ended up going with someone else.
We parted ways after that until about two years later. I was driving through downtown again when I saw a man jogging. He was a familiar looking figure, and as I was passing him I turned to look and was so surprised I almost crashed my car into a telephone pole. It was Loren! I stopped the car, called his name and he came over to talk to me. He got into my car, we chatted about life and destiny, and where our paths had taken us. We knew we still had very strong feelings for each other so we decided to try again. We dated for a few short months, but it wasn't meant to be. We broke up again. Here's where your mind should flash to Chris Farley on Saturday Night Live as he's hitting his head screaming, "Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!" with me in the role of Chris Farley.
We followed the same paths just not together; college graduations, marriages, children, jobs, homes, divorces, aging families; until suddenly over twenty years had come and gone. Then one summer afternoon I was picking up my youngest daughter from daycare. I signed her out, grabbed her belongings from her cubbie and headed out the door toward the car. As I was walking across the parking lot I heard a familiar voice behind me say, "I know you !" I stopped dead in my tracks, certain I was hallucinating. It couldn't be. There was no way. Had I really heard that wonderfully familiar voice? I turned slowly and there he was! Loren! After all the time that had passed he hadn't changed at all! He was still handsome and charming, with that wonderful smile I remembered so well! I was back in 1979, with all the old feelings rushing back so forcefully I thought I would faint. Now, I had thought of him often over the years, wondering where he was, what he was doing, if he was happy. I had even told my daughters about the fact that he was my first love and how I hoped that they would be fortunate enough to find someone like him.
So there we were, having a conversation about where we'd been and what we'd been doing, catching up on family news. He told me he had married and had two children, a boy and a girl. I told him I had also married and had three children, all girls. He told me he had fulfilled his career dream. I told him that I was happy for him. We parted ways after that and didn't see each other for almost a year until we ran into each other at daycare again. I had been thinking of him constantly over that time, enduring some painful personal issues. But we knew we wanted to be together, and we decided that we would no longer put it off. We had already waited twenty-six years, we felt we were ready for a relationship. We have been together ever since. I cannot picture myself without him. He is the love of my life; the other half of me. You could say we are lucky that we've been given another chance at our life together, or that it's just coincidence that we met again after so many years. I prefer to think we have finally reached our appointed hour. That perfect life we dreamed of having as kids is certainly NOT perfect. And we are no longer the kids we were all those years ago. But it is our life, and it's the kind of life that is perfect for us. We work on it together, always talking, always touching, always laughing, always loving. And with 5 kids between us, it's always interesting and lively. So maybe we are crazy, but it's a good crazy. I wouldn't trade it for any other life. And that's how it should be. Loren you are my life and my love and together we are home. Grow older with me. ;-)
Mary
Okay, so you've heard her side of it. Now it's time for the stuff your mom won't let you talk about....well, okay, I'm not going to go there but I will tell you how we see this very much akin to one another. It truly was an October evening when I heard voices out in front of my house. Jack, my neighbor was out there with women I had not seen before...which means they were people who really didn't know him. As I spied through the window I saw her. I didn't know who she was but I was going to find out. Promptly I walked outside and joined the conversation. Mary, Julie and Monica were standing there. All I could see was Mary. Those eyes. That incredible smile and a laugh that lit up the night sky like none other I had ever seen. We all talked, laughed and before it was over I had a phone number. Yep. We dated. She talked. I drooled. She smiled. I drooled. She held my hand. You know where this goes. Love. Yes, young, yes idealistic, yes unenlightened but meaningful and powerful nonetheless. I was enamored with her and couldn't understand how she could let me get away with all the insanity that came with being around my friends. Mary became a fully enmeshed part of my life. My friends, who were and are not to this day to be confused with stable individuals, were now hers. Especially Beej and Karen. We spent much time together and often, very often, you would find Mary and Karen rolling their eyes at the antics of two young high school boys. This is just a small glimpse of what occurred from early fall to early spring. As Mary pointed out life did take a road travelled by many. Yet, that road seemed to be more of a winding path that would turn in upon itself. Mary and I met shortly after high school and tried again. Then later when she was well into college. That is when the roads truly did diverge. I cannot tell you how many times I would think of Mary through the years while I was off getting my bachelors and masters degrees. I would hear a laugh that was amazingly similar or see that same kind of smile I saw from her wondrous face. I would hear the songs that reflected that time in our life and cherished those that were designated as "ours". You know the ones: Babe by Styx and Longer by Dan Fogelberg...but of course so many others as well. We found great similarity in music though I would have to admit it must truly have been love that kept her tolerant of my strong penchant for Gary Numan. Yeah thats right. I said it. Gary Numan! Years passed. I moved to Missouri, Indiana, Kansas and finally back to Iowa. Who would have known she would have been there. I stood behind her and those emotions that tell the heart to say something, anything, led me to say one of the most intelligent things I've ever said..."I know you". I know you? Really? Is that what I said?The words came out and she turned and that was it. Again. My heart found it's home. So here we are. Two hearts and five amazing children that bring tears of joy. Why five? Because if there was six I would be vexed enough to have to try to come up with my own words to the tune of the Brady Bunch and that's just not a place I want to go! Well, let's be more accurate. The day we moved into one household it was two hearts, five kids, two dogs, two cats, two hamsters and a snake! Oh yeah...a snake! Not some poor little colorful "oh let it lick your finger" kind of snake. A constrictor. I told the boy "no", I'm confident I did but there it was larger than life...well larger in the middle due to the rat it just ate...blecht! Here we are. Mary and I. She continues to be the most beautiful woman I have ever known and when she puts her hand to the side of my face (gently... she's a pincher not a smacker...praise be to God) all the worry and frustration and struggle of life fades away. She is my home, my conversation partner, my confidant, my playmate, my friend, my love, and so much more. Each day presents itself with the opportunity for fulfillment and I can say that such is the case not because of me or her but because we do this together. In this small house of seven, pets not included but batteries are found in the kitchen drawer to the far left, there is laughter, frustration, thoughtfulness, sheer lunacy, and especially in the summer months Smirnoff Ice or a good fruitful bottle of Iowa wine. It is amazing how different each child is and how the differences of history and child rearing come to play. Oh, you may think it's simply a package of Ramen noodles but to some poor boy surrounded by females of lesser tolerance the act of eating the last package can lead to an elongated endeavor of enterprising estrogen plotting his demise! We have stories to tell. Experiences to share. Blending a family is a real hoot! I'm almost fifty...I can say hoot if I want to! Not only do we want to share the insanity and laughter but we want to capture the moments that fade so fleetingly like a road that presents itself again and again but is lost in the simple glancing of eyes to another direction. Ours is a road not of regret but of joy in the rediscovery of finding one's heart and the gift of love once lost along the way. I am still madly in love with you Mary and I am thankful that we are here, home, together. My kids, your kids, all our kids, and with it the stuff that makes this house a place of mayhem and pondering. After strong debate we have decided that parents are not to eat their young not so much because the human body really doesn't like that much protein but because they are under our skin enough! Seriously, they are wonderful, unique (like everyone else), intelligent, witty, creative and ours. I revel in journeying this road with you. Mary, I love you.
Loren
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