Suck It Great Pumpkin (And I’m Being Sincere)

I’ve been battling migraine headaches the past few days. I’m bound and determined not to miss any of my girls activities so I’ve been “powering” through the worst part. Well, I ran out of power around 12:30 this morning. I had finally gone to sleep around 11. An hour and half later the smoke alarm outside our bedroom went off for a few seconds. The same thing had happened at 7 a.m. and this second time Scared.Me.To.Death. Stephen and I decided (after making sure there was no sign of fire) that the detector had gone bad and we would buy a new one. My heart rate started to slow down and then….the detector outside Bailey’s room went off full force. I was done. The fact that we had spent Friday evening on a ghost walk really didn’t help either. I thought maybe a few of the “undead” had followed us home and were having a great laugh on our part.

Stephen unhooked the offending alarms and went back to sleep. My pounding head and equally pounding heart stayed up until around 2:30 a.m. in case anything else in our house decided to freak out. Thankfully all was quiet the rest of the night.

After finally getting rid of the migraine I thought it would be a great day to hit the pumpkin patch. Here’s how this outing looked in my head…We would all find the perfect pumpkin while laughing and making family memories. The girls would spend the next few days talking about this great start to their fall break and my husband would pat me on the back for planning a nice relaxing day. You know, an afternoon of rainbows, unicorns, and apple cider donuts. 

Well, the rest of the free world had the same idea. I’m pretty sure the fire marshall could have shut down the orchard even though we were all outside. I kept losing Lily. I foolishly had her put on a UK shirt…in Central Kentucky. Seriously Cassie? Why didn’t I just dress her in camouflage and tell her to NEVER respond when I yelled her name? Riley got hurt within five minutes of arrival and went into sullen teenager mode. Have I mentioned she is only NINE?? Bailey was totally fine. That was a gift. Then Riley saw a horse but we didn’t have a ticket to ride a horse. Idiots. So I gave Stephen the task of getting back in the extremely long ticket (because we didn’t want to waste money and we like to get in lines over and over) and I followed a four and seven year old into a maze. Thank God it wasn’t made out of corn or we would still be in that damn thing (pardon my language). Bailey is freakishly fast and I don’t know my right from my left on a good day. Ask my mom, it’s true. Lily finally decided we would just go back to the entrance. She’s a smart kid. A little boy said, “Hey this is the entrance.” My response, “Yes, we quit. Good luck.”

It was pretty warm outside and even though I was dressed for the occasion, I was sweating. There are women in knee high boots and long sleeve shirts and I decide their happiness is fake or they are drunk. I wanted to shake them and scream, “It’s NOT even remotely cool. How are you not passing out???” I’m not an attractive “hot” person. There’s no glistening and I start to feel mean. I knew we should leave before I turned into the Hulk. So we stood in yet another loooong line to get some cold apple cider and donuts. I wasn’t leaving without the dang donuts. The best part…we DID NOT GET A PUMPKIN. I was done with lines and apparently we didn’t pay to pick from the patch. So I did what any good mom would do. I said, “Hey look kids, I have donuts. Let’s eat them in the car!!” My plan worked. 

We rounded out this memorable afternoon by returning some items to Kohl’s where I almost got into a fight with a kid who wasn’t even mine (totally his fault) and ate out really early “so it would be quick” and ended up being there for what seemed like an eternity.

I’m home now and looking forward to a nice, quiet evening. I will fulfill my promise of pumpkins later and I’m pretty sure there are two donuts left somewhere in my minivan. Shhh, don’t tell my kids.

Advertisements

Ch..Ch..Ch..Changes

I don’t like change. I’m a grownup so I should be okay with things not staying the same, but I’m just not on board with the fact that change is a part of life. For example, when I was a kid my dad shaved off his beard. I had never in my 8 years of life seen him without that facial hair and it freaked me out. I told him what I thought of that bold move. The hair grew back and we were friends again. My mom wasn’t very happy with me because she liked his clean, hair free face. Oops.

Moving to new places sends me into an absolute tailspin. I’ve done it five times but each one was a painful learning experience. I would find myself longing for my “former” life, even if my “new” life was so much better. It’s hard to explain. I’m not shy or afraid of new experiences. I guess I just get comfortable and don’t want to deal with getting comfortable again.

A new change is coming my way very soon and it’s pretty huge. My mom is moving to a house three miles away from mine. She will be leaving her home of 31 years, the only home she’s ever owned and the one she and my dad designed and had built together. My siblings and I were raised there. It’s where we’ve shared the very best times and dealt with some terrible losses. The hill behind that house is where my dad and his friend Bill killed a four foot long copperhead and where us kids would go sledding on a snow day. The only thing that stopped us from crashing into the heat pump was a deep ditch. The driveway is where I backed my mom’s car into another deep ditch (you may notice a theme here…) and to this day I only back up with my head out the window when I’m there. The wooden bridge (now concrete) from the road to our property was where my Cavalier Z24 nearly went through a huge hole into the waters of Troublesome Creek. (In my defense the hole was NOT there when I went to town and I did find it weird that dad was running down the driveway but hey, hindsight is 20/20). Stephen asked for my hand in marriage in the living room and my children have played in every inch of that house.

This change is going to be hard for my mom in ways I can’t imagine. She is moving away from her church and dear friends. I admire her strength.  Every corner she turns she is reminded of my dad and I know that part is comforting. But it’s time to start a new adventure that dad would love and live in a new house near family. Time for that special house in Emmalena, Kentucky to be as welcoming and loving to other children.

We don’t always get to choose when or how things will change but we can choose to be thankful and do our very best to appreciate what change can bring our way. So I will look at my mom’s move as a gift and I will leave a note to the new owners of her house to just let their kids play in the ditch. They will end up in there at some point anyway