Wow, what a year. How does one write a holiday news letter WITHOUT sounding arrogant? How do I not talk about my genius toddler and infant? How do I not gloat and dote about and on Michael? While doing all of this, I also must appear to you the smartest, coolest person in the entire world. No problem. Consider it done.
First of all, I’m not that arrogant. Maybe a little, but I’ve earned it. Don’t worry, I never forget where I come from. No need to remind me, I remember it like yesterday, borrowing two dollars in food stamps to book it across Berry Street (Fort Worth) to buy a Dr. Pepper and bag of Doritos for my dinner. So in case you might be alarmed that I have traded in my trader’s village knock off k-swiss tennis shoes for designer flats that cost more than my mother’s rent in 1992, well you are right, but its one pair, and I’m being dramatic. (Act surprised).
Secondly, if I don’t talk about my children I will be forced to talk about my eczema and the special creams that have been prescribed for me. I’ll have to tell you about my newest mop, talk about “The Hills” (Mtv), and then just make up a bunch of crap to make myself sound interesting. Lets face one thing, those children of mine make me interesting. Not only do they give me substance and a reason to breathe, but they create in me a better, more profound personality. I owe them a lot, mainly for saving me from being the gal with 7 cats in a one bedroom apartment who stays up late eat ice cream sandwiches watching “cosby show” reruns.
Third, I have to dote on Michael. It was in the vows. If I don’t he’ll just go on and on about providing for me a luxurious life of frolicking about town and getting to do what a want. LMAO. The “doing what I want” is the part that always makes me snort iced tea out of my nose. He only gets tiny glimpses of my life. I just assume never leave my house because the infant just wants to chew on public carts, leap out of them, and recently, was caught chewing on a Pier One box of goods. How, you may ask? She was in her stroller mind you, but close enough to just bend down and start chewing on a cardboard box of ornaments. I don’t even bother wiping off her chin the hunks of cardboard. Let her look like a goofball, I’m always running out of time, and so taking out a handy wipe just because she explores with her mouth instead of her eyes, well, not my problem, not that day, and not any day in the future. It better be glass hanging off of her chin for me to rush over with my sani-wipes. Yes, the employees of Pier One got quite a laugh. All I could say is, “sorry about your box” knowing full well its just holding product and will be smashed once they finish throwing their truck. So, was I really sorry? Not really. Embarrassed? Not even a little bit.
So, Jan and Feb. I don’t really remember. I was just doing my thing, tending to a 3 yr old and a newborn, when Michael calls me up one day while out running errands with my sister and asks me if I want to move to Houston. What the crap? First of all, men = brainless. Shouldn’t he have waited to come home and ask me a question like that face to face? I was on my way to Starbucks for crying out loud! My life was just fine. Weren’t we listening to the new Sugarland cd? Imagine the irony.
My eyes filled with tears and my sister who likes to switch places and be the big sis to me, comforted me like only she can do.
So it was Mother’s Day 2007 that Michael was following me and the girls in a U-haul that broke down in Arlington, yes, well, Mansfield to be exact, about 30 miles from our house in NRH. We spent 2 hours in a parking lot only to find out the U-haul was going to have to be towed and we could go on to Houston in our car. So we did. Michael will admit he was sort of glad it broke down, so he didn’t have to drive it and possibly crash it anyway, its not like he had his big rig license. I can’t say that I blamed him. So we make it to Houston with about 30 miles left to go and Brookelyn starts getting restless and then….starts puking so profusely I actually look up and say “Are you serious?”- intended for God’s ears. Puke got on Ashlee Morgan, on me, on the car, on the one blanket we had. Puke drenched, nearly drowned Brookelyn. It was official, she had a virus. We get home and the puking continues. Our u-haul is two hours behind us and we need baths, and clean clothes, and blankets, and towels, and EVERYTHING. The poor girl puked all in to the night. At one point I fell asleep on the carpet next to her twin air mattress with no covers.
Everything got screwed up. We had to reschedule the men to unload the truck since the truck arrived in the middle of the night. Michael took a half day off of work to help. Poor Brookelyn was still recovering and Ashlee, well she was great and just sat around like a pumpkin in a patch. As things started making it off the truck I could hear broken glass and see the damage that TOWING A U-HAUL AT AN ANGLE can do. This is a joke right? Part of me just wanted to laugh, how could I NOT laugh? Of course the truck broke down while still in Fort Worth, of course it was towed, of course all of our belongings slide to the back and had the sliding door bowing out. Michael was scared to death to open in. He needed a helmet for sure. Most everything large got some sort of damage. Most every large picture frame shattered. If nothing else it was just annoying to continue to hear the men who were unloading say, “Mam, this is damaged, can you look before we touch it?”. I know they didn’t want to be blamed, but it was still annoying. At one point I jokingly say, “OK, I get it, everything is broken, don’t get hurt or cut, or I’ll have to make YOU sign a waiver”.
To end this story, I got most of my money back from the rental of the u-haul. I should have fought for all of it, but I sort of didn’t care THAT much. When in doubt of how sucky a situation can be, just remember there are starving people in other countries. It works like a charm when you’re throwing a pity party. Oh waa, my 500 dollar t.v. armoire got some wood knocked out of the back, big freakin deal, will it still hold my t.v? yes? Then we’re cool. Of course I didn’t make it sound like that to the u-haul representative. I had to really drive home the message of my child getting sick and not having our belongings on time, etc etc
I spent the summer in the community pool with my girls. We did some traveling back to DFW and we had some people down here for visits. We spent some time at the beach in Galveston, and continue to have fun exploring a part of Texas I had never even visited prior to this move. I spent the beginning of fall trying to figure out a way to move back to Fort Worth. It was killing me not having my familiar landmarks, my 1987 home that still had so much work and love to be poured in to. I missed things I wasn’t so sure were ever even there. Michael had to drag me out of bed and force me to get ready and take me to lunch. He’d open the blinds and get all sergeant on me. I thought, if he makes me doing 50 push-ups, I’m calling a lawyer.
I started a Master’s program through Dallas Baptist Univ online. Michael is such a supporter. He always believes in me even when I think I am as dumb as a tumbleweed. In fact, he reminds me that people who are born with half of a brain can usually pass these classes. Thanks, that’s uplifting.
Brookelyn is in a Mother’s Day Out program twice a week, loving it. Michael continues to work hard and enjoy the new job. I wish I was kidding when I say he is the smartest person I know. He knows that I feel this way and will use it against me at inopportune times. When he tells me he has to stay late at work to finish something, I usually hang up, roll my eyes and mumble “freakin overachiever”. Only, I know to be happy for him that he finds joy in his work and doesn’t stay late that often. I have to appreciate not being married to street drunk. I have to remember that we could be renting a single wide in the middle of no where, I could be a cashier at Exxon, and he could be home sleeping off a hangover while our two kids run around the lawn in just diapers, smearing one another with glue and peanut butter. We could have terrible southern drawls and be pegging one another with beer cans because the 400 a month I make working at a gas station barely covers rent and food, and that a night out for the family is at taco bell where we keep our taco bell cups in our crapped out car so we don’t have to purchase drinks.
Yes, dear, you go ahead and work late, stay overnight if you have to, you want me to bring you dinner and a pillow?
For 2008 we plan to continue looking upwards. Gratitude is a sobering asset to have when going through major changes and embracing new things, people, and ideas. Well, red wine helps too.
Top 10 things I love about Houston:
1. We get to be hermits and no one can say a thing.
2. The humidity keeps my face clear and moist.
3. Another big city for a city junkie, I might as well be in a cookie shop.
4. No one knows what a nerd I really am. For all these people know, I really am as cool as I say.
5. New Mexican food places (hello Heaven!)
6. Got to see Tori Amos somewhere besides Dallas- awesome
7. Making memories on the beach! Not a chance in you know what we’d ever get to experience sand in our crotch in Fort Worth. “Mommy, the sand in my bo bo itches” Priceless.
8. Safe neighborhood, community waterpark, every shop known to man on one road just beyond the Sienna entrance, a genius created this zip code and I love her for it.
9. Friendly people who always say “welcome to Houston” when I say I’m from DFW. That’s better than the farewell I got from DFW “Oh, you’re moving to Houston, sorry to hear that”- complete strangers.
10. Joel Osteen operates his massive church walking distance from Michaels work. This man has captivated me, captured my attention, and has lassoed me in to his Christian world. Nice move God. I see right through this one, but I don’t care, Joel and his wife Victoria are quite possibly the most sincere people I’ve ever seen (aside from family) talk about their faith and mean every word. I admit to being a cynic at times, and a bit skeptical. I’ve been caught laughing while reading Brookelyn her children’s bible while I think, “I’m soooo sure”. Then I watch Joel or go to his church and think, maybe its all true, and hopefully I’m not going to hell for all of my sarcasm, cynicism, and skepticism. Is it possible to work out to Britney Spears everyday and close the day with a devotional? If its not, then I want nothing to do with the hypocrisy. Hopefully, I can just continue to be me, and explore on my own terms. After all, this is my journey. I’m the frontlines of my family (Michael, Brookelyn Aubrey, and Ashlee Morgan) and all of them are expecting me to make good moves. Stay tuned…
New Project
12 years ago
