Today I came across a writing prompt that asked, “Do you believe in fate / destiny?”
I don’t know how I couldn’t!
Sometimes I feel like a character in this book of life that someone is writing around me. Things happen in my life and I just happen to be in the right place at the right time.
Sometimes they are good things…sometimes not so great.
Let’s look at my Ranger.
I met my Ranger on the first weekend of an internship, in a state 3,000 miles from home, where I was the only intern in the program who had a sponsor who was allowing me to live rent fee (room, board, and transportation to and from work), doing something I wasn’t told was part of my job until I got there, while he was doing tours of a cemetery.
To break this down a smidge:
I had recently broken up with my college boyfriend. You know, the one you are sure you’re going to marry until you are sure you aren’t.
I saw a flyer for an internship 3,000 miles away on the other side of the country. I applied. And, when I took someone back to show them the flyer, it had disappeared from the history department the day after I applied.
I was going to make $300 a month and couldn’t afford to live there so I was going to need some help – here was help.
I wasn’t going to have a car with me and was going to need help getting to and from work.
I was hired the last day of interviews for the program.
My parents paid for the plane ticket on the condition that I didn’t fall in love, get married, and move away. (oops).
We had a mostly long distance relationship, and have been married since Jesus left Beaverdale (to quote Rose). We have moved a couple times, with each move cementing my belief in fate / destiny.
When I pictured what life would be like with the girly-birds away at college, I don’t think this is quite what I pictured.
I am pretty sure that I’m a workaholic, and without kiddos to wrangle, I have let work encroach on me pretty much daily.
This would probably go hand in hand with my ADHD diagnosis that my husband is just sitting in a corner nodding and saying, I could have told you that.
My boss would agree with him.
I work.
A lot.
It could be that I have this beautiful new building that we are just opening!
I’m a Forkin’ Workaholic!
It could be that I love to seeing the customers come in and talking to them about what we have to offer!
I absolutely adore the shining eyes of the kids when they see the areas we included just for them!
Or it could also be all that and also I have trouble delegating and letting things go.
For quite a while there seemed like so much was out of my control, I tend to try to control things.
My counselor and I have an ongoing discussion about looking for what are things that are actually in my control and what are things that I can’t control but need to deal with and what are things that are completely out of my control that I just need to let go and move on.
Over the weekend I put in at least 8 hours between what I did at home and in my office, and this was after a full week of working pretty much 7:45-6pm daily. So, the husband looked at me and said, “You need to take a day off.”
I started with the excuses of why I couldn’t – I’ve got a meeting here, we are short staffed there, I’ve got a group coming for this, and a contractor coming for that.
Then I took a good look at myself.
I’m exhausted.
I looked at my calendar again.
And I scheduled a day off.
I even set up an “Out of Office” reply for my work email.
So, on my day off, today, I took the dog to the vet this morning, I watched a lot of TikToks, I have 2 appointments later this afternoon, I’m running by Target, and I’m writing my blog post, and I’m mentally planning what I’m going to make for supper later.
I’ve barely looked at the emails that keep dinging on my phone and only passed on a couple of messages to my work about people who need to be absent.
So, yeah, I’m sitting at my dining room table, with the door open to the back yard, watching the trees blow in the warm autumn wind, wondering if and when I will ever really be able to allow myself to really take a day off. But, that might be another conversation for me to have with my counselor.
My younger daughter was lamenting to me the other day, “Most other people have parents who walked uphill, both ways, in the snow to get to school. But not my mom! My mom grew up on a farm!”
We had been discussing a carton of eggs with an expiration date from 2 days prior.
“Old expiration dates? Pfft! They’re fine! I grew up on a farm and we used to eat food with no expiration dates! I’m alive! You’ll live too!” She says with exasperation.
What does she think? Chickens have eggs that are popped out with an expiration date? That’s why you float them!
When did it expire? Does it smell funny? Does it look weird? Does it taste “off”…
No, then it’s fine. Eat it.
She then rants into, “Zombies! We had zombies! Pfft! I grew up on a farm, you’ll be fine. Just get behind me.”
Yes, we’ve had discussions on where we’d go in a zombie apocalypse. One should always be prepared.
The Valley always wins hands down. If you know, you know. If you don’t I’m not telling you because then when you’ve been zombie-fied you would know where to find us.
One highway in, same one out – so it’s easy to defend.
And those people know how to handle a rifle. (Okay, so not me, but I have other skills).
How would we get there? Just ask my kids..
“Our mom grew up on a farm! She knows how to siphon gas, she can drive back roads, she can read a map without her GPS, and she can build a hay fort for shelter.”
I think my kids have been watching too much John Mulaney, because this particular rant was starting to have his tone of voice.
“My mom. My mom grew up on a farm. Their eggs and milk didn’t come with expiration dates. If it didn’t smell, look, or taste weird, you just ate it and hoped you didn’t die.”
That wasn’t quite how it worked, but when you eat meat products from animals you raised, drank milk that came in gallon size mayonnaise jars from the neighbor’s cows, had butter made from the milk / cream on the top of that jar of milk, had eggs from the chickens out back, and vegetables from the garden – you realize that expiration dates are more of a general idea than a hard, fast rule.
My kids, though… sigh…are rule followers. If the date on the package says one thing, that’s it!
They’ve even had the debate over whether or not that is the last day it could be used or that is the day it needs to be thrown out.
I’m not quite sure how they would handle homegrown foods that don’t come with dates.
I miss having her under my roof every night, and knowing exactly where she is and what she is up to.
I miss the innocence of her youth at this age.
I miss tapping on her door (because what teenager doesn’t live in their room) to ask her a quick question.
I miss listening to her and her dad talk and debate politics at the dining room table.
However, I enjoy the inside jokes that we share.
I enjoy watching her develop into herself and the woman she is meant to be.
I enjoy being the phone call she makes on her walk back from classes.
I enjoy the text messages she sneaks during class.
I enjoy the “mom can you look at my citations /email / essay” to make sure it/ they look right moments?
She hates this picture.
I adore this picture.
She says this picture is, “Creepy!”
I say this is a mom picture – a picture I took at the end of a rough preteen day full of angst to remind me how innocent she really was and that at the end of the day, she would return to being this sweet girl.
She is an adult now.
We survived those angsty teen years.
But I still keep this picture. Now it is to remind me that no matter how old she gets, my girl will always be my baby.
And, originally my blog was a way to keep family up to date on the kiddos, but as they’ve gotten older, they’ve gotten more private. One has Instagram, the other has no social media…at all! *GASP!*
They are no longer Big and Baby.
Big has become Bigger and Baby has become Big
They are Big and Bigger.
They are, “Mother, I’m 21 in college!” and “Mom! I’m almost 18 and about to start college!”
One of them has flown and the other is leaving us in the fall.
We are going to be…
Empty Nesters!
This wasn’t supposed to have happened so soon!
Was it?
I feel like King George in Hamilton with a little smirk singing, “They’ll be back…”
But will they be the SNL version of “Back for Thanksgiving?”
Or will they be back, back. Y’know.
Anywho…back to the topic at hand.
I need to rename my blog.
Hell, I need to get back to writing my blog on a regular basis.
Maybe as an empty nester I’ll have time again?
No more parking lot sitting? No more last minute runs to pick up kiddos or taking them to appointments.
So, a blog name?
Do I pick something to do with Empty Nesting?
Do I pick something related to my career?
Do I pick something generic?
Do I keep the Accidental? Because, let’s face it, I’m an accident waiting to happen, and things happen rather serendipitously to me.
Do I pick something that mirrors my personality or my family dynamic?
I just don’t know?
But I’m open to ideas! Feel free to send me your thoughts!
Last year on January 1, 2020, I decided that I was going to come up with a key phrase for the year.
“Faith, Trust, and Pixie Dust,” was what I picked.
I always have faith and I trust that things will turn out in the end.
Pixie dust was because I believe in the magic that surrounds us, and I’m a bit of a Disney nut.
Things started out amazing!
I was able to travel back to Nashville and present at the Public Library Association Conference. It was amazing!
I was able to connect with a couple of friends from Paris while I was there. It was amazing!
I remember traveling to and from this conference without a mask, but with a whole LOT of sanitizing wipes. I handed them out liberally on the plane. I didn’t wear a mask. It wasn’t a statement, it just wasn’t a thing at the time.
Two weeks after returning home, the world changed.
To me, this whole year has been about faith and trust.
I have always liked the Biblical definition of faith as in Hebrews 11:1, “Now faith is the substance of things hoped for and the evidence of things not yet seen.”
I trust in that faith.
I have faith that God is giving us what we need to see us through these trying times.
I trust Him to provide us with the supports we need.
And, He has!
My little family has had to have a lot of faith and trust over the years.
We have picked up and moved across the country twice.
We had no idea what we were heading toward, but in each instance that leap of faith has led to amazing opportunities that we not would have otherwise had.
More than once we have said, “Okay, God, now what?”
That pixie dust at the end is taking the opportunities that are provided and using it to sprinkle magic dust to help ourselves grow.
God could plop us down anywhere, but if we don’t take advantage of the opportunities surrounding us, we might as well have stayed put.
This year, to me, that has included information provided by the CDC and WHO. They give us information, guidelines, and it is up to us to make decisions. Those decisions, have not always been easy, but they are what has been fitting for our family.
These opportunities have given our high school junior that opportunity to take classes virtually, and include courses that she would not otherwise have at her disposal in the face to face atmosphere. Our college student has had the opportunity to spread out the final classes of her Associates Degree, because why hurry to finish if everything is online anyways. And, with my husband working from home, he has been here to be a hands on dad – troubleshooting computer issues, taking kiddos to doctor appointments, and to orchestra practice. Things he would normally miss out on due to his work schedule.
My job has been back face to face, sometimes with people in the library and other times just offering curbside service. In any case, we have been crazy busy! It seems like every time I get worn down and need a couple of days off, days I would not normally schedule myself, I end up needing to quarantine for a couple of days. Either I have been exposed, I have a few symptoms and need to wait for test results, or someone else in my family does. In each case, no one in the house has tested positive, but I did get a good bit of rest and was able to go back to work and take my 100% with me. Some might look at it differently, but I look at it as, I needed a rest and God knew I wasn’t going to sit my butt down unless He proverbially shoved me into a chair.
Oh, and we got a second dog.
A BIG, doofy doggo.
They said he was part Beagle.
Pops the Doggo
I think they are wrong.
There are a lot of things that were missed this year, but I would prefer to look at the positives.
So, this last year was Faith, Trust, and Pixie Dust.
I haven’t decided my phrase for next year, but I think it might include wine.
So, it has been a few minutes since the last time I logged in and caught everyone up on our lives. To say that life has been crazy busy would be an understatement. Here are the basics
I am still writing as the Accidental Southern Mama, but I might have to change that title at some point. You see, we are no longer living in the South. The Ranger took a transfer, and we are now in the Mid-West. He is at one of his “Dream Parks.”
And, you know those two sweet babies of ours?
They are now only babies in our eyes.
Both of our girls are freshmen this year.
Big has started college, and Baby has started high school.
Big is highly private. She is 18. She is ready to change the world with her vote.
Baby is private. She is 14. She just wants to survive marching band season.
Me. I am still a librarian.
I am manage a branch within a large public library system.
I serve my community.
It is really hard to write a “Mommy Blog” about children who are now teenagers, who are rather private, and who have the ability to vocalize their displeasure in my publicizing their lives. So, I am having to come up with ideas on what to write about now that I’m not allowed to write about my children.
So, I have been told that my life is a Saturday Night Live sketch waiting to happen.
Apparently things happen to me that generally only happen in the movies or on television.
Last night was the movie Rear Window.
You know, the movie with Jimmy Stewart where he is recovering from a broken foot and witnesses a murder through his open window.
Yeah, that was me.
Only without a murder.
Just a stupid dog. Last night, I had been up for hours, listening to this stupid, little, yappy dog bark.
We live in town.
In a highly residential area.
I should not be listening to a yappy or howling dog in the middle of the night.
His owners are home.
These people have been approached many times by both my husband and I and our Sweet Neighbor about this animal.
When they have refused to act, we have been to animal control and the police.
Their standard mantra is, “There is not really anything we can do.”
So, there I am laying in bed at 1 a.m. live texting my Sissy about this dumb dog, when I realize that my Sweet Neighbor has left her house and is yelling at the dog.
My Sissy was afraid that the owners would call the police on the Sweet Neighbor.
“Ummm…No,” I explained. “This is the warning that they get that she is about to call the police herself!”
Then the police show up.
She called the cops!
Picture this…
Me…
with my broken foot…
who can’t get around on her own…
flopped over in an obnoxiously uncomfortable angle…
so that I can peek through the shutters at my Sweet Neighbor and the police officer…
and eavesdrop!
Typically, I am huddled in the dark next to her, waiting for the police.
It is our theory that while the other neighbors can hear the dog, they don’t want to deal with the owners.
I live texted my Sissy the whole exchange.
There was a lot of gesturing on the part of my Sweet Neighbor, while I could hear her explaining the issues we have been having with this particular pet and family for the past 3 years.
Their dog barking at all hours of the day and night…
Running rampant through the neighborhood (in a town where there is a leash law)…
Chasing runners, walkers, children, postal workers…
…my cats…
Because to quote the owners, “These are just the types of things that dogs do.”
And, apparently, the police officer had been looking on the wrong street.
He had slowed down when he started to hear the barking…
…Three blocks and one street away.
He finally agreed that we shouldn’t have to live our lives with the soundtrack of this dumb dog.
I think he gave them a ticket for disturbing the peace!
At least I hope so!
The end result was that they finally got the owners to take the dog into their house for the rest of the night.
History with these owners have shown that they will keep their dog in the house at night for most of the next week and then we will be back to the barking, howling, yapping dog and middle of the night calls to the police.
So, it makes me then wonder…
What will I see the happen the next time I can get to a window to peer out!
The other day, while in a painkiller stupor I was starting to feel my glass get half empty.
I don’t do half empty.
So I decided to start to count my blessings of a broken foot.
1. The ER didn’t send me home before I was seen by the orthopedist.
Yes, Ma’am, I see that your foot is broken in four or five places. Here, have this boot with velcro and some pain pills. Call the orthopedist on Monday and go see them. Thanks, have a nice day!
I can’t even imagine!
2. I have been banking paid sick leave FOREVER and have several weeks backed up.
So, even though I am down for the count, I am still able to get paid.
3. Most of my summer projects are cloud / internet based so I can still keep working from home.
4. The Ranger has excellent bedside manner. *Wink* *Wink*
Seriously, I love that man! He is pretty darn awesome (and that isn’t just the painkillers talking!)
5. Rose, my mother-in-law, has finally come for an extended visit!
In fact, I told her the other day that my broken foot was just an elaborate ruse to get her to visit us…and it worked!
6. My sister-in-law, that I love to death, drove Rose down so I got to visit with her for a couple of days!
It is really great having nurses in the family. Who knew that adding one more pillow to the leg could make such a huge difference!
7. I got an AWESOME care package from my Mama and Sissy.
The box talked.
Seriously!
When Trumpet Girl set it down on the table, it actually said, “NO!”
8. I have always wanted to be 9 month faculty, and this is going to be pretty close.
9. I have realized that we truly have a support network in place here in Middle of Nowhere, TN.
Friends have been dropping by to visit, texting to see if we need anything, bringing pizza, etc.
10. Time to catch up on my reading (I’m out of books) and DVR recordings!
Accidental Southern Mama 