Greatness is everywhere if you look...

Tuesday morning, 5:30 "Sun is Shining" alarm plays...a beautiful way to wake up and keep the team moving to get ready for school...music is so powerful.   Just as we are heading out the door, I smell dog poo....there is a big pile on Mila's carpet.   Gagging, I throw the carpet outside while Senna laughs at me knowing my Poo-phobia and having just read my recent  "Everybody Poops"  joke gift from Pat.   (he always makes me smile)

It is so foggy out.   We jump in the car and head to the bus, I realize I forgot my phone but figure I know the way there and back by now so all is well.   Sen has been challenging lately, seems I am getting upset with her behavior more than I would like.   I'm kind of sad because I wanted to talk with her more before I headed out of town that afternoon.    Anyway, we are talking about the bracelets I made for them and I realize I don't know where I am and have missed a turn.   There are about 10 turns on the way to the bus all through the hills of Georgia and I start to panic.    I probably had about a 2 minute window to spare before I would be late for the bus and I don't have a phone to call the bus driver, nor to use for a GPS.   My car navigation won't work since I don't know the address and can't think of any road nearby...we almost run into a mailbox and back into a ditch turning around in the dark fog.   The clock is ticking and I am starting to lose it.  

I get to a stop light, the girls are nervous since I'm clearly on edge and I get the navigation to work and it is 8 minutes to the bus (it is 6:53).  I fly.   I hit every light.   I pull in as the bus is pulling out.   

Sen makes some insulting comment and I bite my tongue as I get on 75 to drive the 40 minutes North to school knowing I have to turn around and drive back home before driving South to Ocala.   I break down and start crying, telling her how I try so hard to do the best for them and I am a single mother most of the time and some appreciation and helpfulness would go a long way.   

She is silent.  I am in tears.   Mila says "I Love You Mama".  

I decide this can be a shit way to start the day or I can find the good.   We drive to school (which required a detour by Mom's house since that is the only way I know how to get to the school) and I start flipping through the 90s station on the radio.  

Spin Doctors comes on..."Little Miss Can't Be Wrong"...   I start to laugh and tell Sen it's her song as I dance down the road.   She cracks a smile and we are all laughing and the air immediately turns lighter.   The 3 of us walk into school holding hands and still giggling.   

I use the school phone (yes, it had a cord) to call Mom (only number I know) and get the address of the errand I needed to run on the way back.   Hopping in the car, smiling at the comical part of the adventure and I cruise out listening to old tunes.   

I look over and the sun is blazing a bright orange circle over the buildings.   The fog is being lifted and the dew is twinkling.  The colors are so bright.   Flowers budding.   The brilliant green of spring showing through.   I smile thinking of Pat and how lucky I am to have such an amazing person in my life...I smile from the heart of a mom with two ladies that mean so much to me.   

I then, was SO FUCKING GRATEFUL to miss that turn, to miss the bus and get to spend an uninterrupted hour with the girls and another hour with nothing but me, some random music and a beautiful view of the world.   

I needed that.   

Opportunity from failure....Santa IS real.

So being the prototype for the last-minute planner and coining the theory of on-timeish.....I decide to get my shit together and man up slightly towards the ultimate status of a Pintrest-Mom (crawl before walk, you know)....so, I get tickets IN ADVANCE to see Santa Underground at Ruby Falls...   

After school and homework, the ladies donned their new holiday outfits and we head up the mountain for an epic exploration to the allusive Santa Claus.       She said.   Mama fail.

Turns out, Mr. Claus is not around until Thursday at Ruby Falls....so with some quick thinking and good selling, I make Frazier Avenue shops and dinner sound like Disney Land.  Barely skirting massive disappointment, we make our way back down.   

The shops are adorable and we poke through, trying to find a few gifts for friends constantly arguing about what the girls could not have.   Before the pending melt-down erupted, we rock up to the appropriately named Good Dog for hotdogs and fries.   (side note: it's a hot dog joint on steroids and my Chicago Veggie Dog was write home-able. )

I stand up to take a picture of Mom and the ladies and notice something suspect behind them.  A notable man in his overalls and red plaid shirt.....'whose droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow, and the beard on his chin was as white as the snow....   He had a broad face and a little round belly that shook when he laughed like a bowl full of jelly'....  (yes, I can recite the 1822 Clement Clark Moore poem, The Night Before Christmas - so I had all the cross-referencing material I needed to confirm one Santa Claus). 

I keep watching before I say anything as his wife comes to sit down with him.   I could not have dreamt this shit up...she looked just like Mrs. Claus.    

So I quietly tell the girls to look over... the glow, the surprise, the wonderment, the excitement...if only it could be bottled up.    Eating became less important than starring at this poor man trying to have dinner....but we were in total disbelief.   

After my earlier move that send me back to the bottom-feeder-mom-status, I couldn't appreciate more how the law of attraction works and smile knowing there is always opportunity in failure. 

We snuck a photo and the gentleman kindly smiled at Senna and certainly brought more reality to the magic of the holidays than I have ever seen....    Believing is such a beautiful thing.   

Thank you, Sir.   

P.S.  Mr. Clause, In case you didn't understand any of the papers laying around the house with a questionable list of names on them...it is Senna's Christmas request and those are 6 specific American Girl Dolls.  But so you know, she is happy that she's not asking for too much since "it is really one gift because it is a 'group'."  

4/2019 UPDATE: She gave away all her American Girl everything 6 months ago. Go figure.

Nooga...

Following my thoughts of yesterday, after dropping the kids at their incredible school,  I listen to Steve Angello's live performance of Rejoice at TomorrowLand....the words, the meaning, the energy, the music....5 minutes of pure truth.  Change my mind.  I will rejoice.  

I have 30 minutes to spare so I grab a coffee at Revelator Coffee Company on Frasier Ave....and as most things in Chattanooga are....it is authentic.   My perfectly prepared cappuccino appears with a beautiful white heart in the center and a warm hug buried in its foam.   Ear buds and a walk over the bridge are in order.   I make my way and immediately see golden feet in the sidewalk showing dance steps...of course ....always dance.   I notice little hints of authenticity and energy tucked in every crevice of this absorbing town.   

I walk across the footbridge, chatting with Pat about the holidays, admiring the gifts this city has placed below and around me....    The rivers, lakes, mountains, streets, shops....they all have a signature with them.   An original feeling that is unique to here.   

Strolling down chalk alley, admiring the artwork, I start snapping pictures of the autographs of Chattanooga....   Stories are everywhere if you want to see them....   Watching the man raise the flag in Coolidge Park...  Seeing the carousel stand idle waiting for today's children to come play...    The bricks lined with memorials, names, thoughts....   Two pair of new socks purposely laid on a park bench, kindly waiting for someone that needs them....    The circle of stone animal fountains waiting to make a wish come true....   A security man smiles and waves...  A sign for free Nooga-Wifi hangs on the wall....   Each store originally and appropriately decorated with feeling and detail, by people that are passionate about what they do....

I start to think what could be out there that I want to do....really WANT to do.... that I could decorate with my feelings and my details....  That I could find success because I found joy and passion and adventure that is mine.   That would bring an opportunity for memories, moments and quality time with the girls and my true friends....

I smile as I realize my hands are completely numb, lost in the story and appreciate so much what this town does... it speaks from all angles with a lot to say...    

RIP River

Down and out, stressed and scared are just a few words that have been on the front of my emotional and mental list lately....    

Holding back tears at any moment....I drive to Chattanooga to stay with mom and the kids with a pit stop to take Blanquita to the vet in Dalton on the way.    I arrive an hour early - irritated that I thought I could get in quickly...I wait in the lobby watching people come in with their beloved pets...   

An old man with his orange cat, Curiosity in a roller cat cage....a couple folks with little fat dogs on the all-too-annoying extend-o-leashes....

The air got heavy, Blanquita tucks her tail....   A woman walks in pulling her German Shepard in the door...it could hardly walk....tears roll down her face as she struggles, her hat falls of, her hair tossed in a mess, but she only cares about the dog that can hardly stand.  The sick girl uses the bathroom on the floor.  Before asking the ladies at the desk about a vet for her dog, she asks for paper towels and sanitizer to clean up the mess.  Selfless.  I felt for her and couldn't help but absorb the genuine heart and her love for River.   

She talked how she had pneumonia for a week and someone was taking care of her dog....and when she went to get her she couldn't believe how sick she was...she choked back tears mumbling she doesn't know what she can do, she can't afford much and I could tell that was true.  They put the dog on the stretcher and she followed into Exam Room 4.   

I end up in the room next door to them and hear the gutted cries and tears pouring from the core of her as they put her River down.    Feelings pierced the white block cement and ran through me.     

As I had been wallowing in my world, at that moment, hers was way worse than mine...  Perspective shifts are priceless gifts in life.   As I hurried out of the office still listening to her crying with her dead dog....I paid both of our bills, hoping the gesture could serve as a little I'm sorry for your loss and a thank you for opening my eyes.  

The Tennessee Train Ride....that did not check the bucket list

So, Michael and I decide it would be fun to take the kids on a "train ride" in Chattanooga....Senna says an authentic train ride is on her bucket list.   Let's do this.    We meet up, pay way more than any train ride of its' time would have cost, but so be it...they will love it.   Senna screams: "I can check my bucket list!!!"

We are walking into the station and a train comes in, horn blowing, kids jumping....and one older enough man squirming with excitement, giving me the don't-leave-your-kid-alone vibe.   

Load up the 6-pack of kids (regrettably not beer), and off we are for the epic ride through the mountains of Tennessee.   We said.   A nice tutorial from the speaker telling us about the old railway system as the kids are each crawling under the gum laden, funk infested, foulness absorbing cloth seats...   They are screaming, yelling, wrestling, hiding....not really any attention to the memorable historic train ride.   No surprise.   I remember nothing about the train ride except the creeper, the disgusting seats and the hilarious image of the kids mauling Michael at the end of the "trip".   

We make it to the 'turn around point' of the trip (10 minutes after we start) and decide it is a better idea to keep the orangutans on crack inside the car as opposed to letting them out in the wild of the train refurbishing station (with the fear of possibly never seeing Sebastian again).    

The longest 25 minutes in history and the whistle blows for the rest of the adventurers *said in jest* to climb back on the train.   This time the concerning right-out-of-the-movie-likely-pedophile finds his seat much closer to our swarm of children.   Now I'm front and center between us and him - the barricade is up and no child will be left to the creeper.   

I successfully keep the kids on the other side of the bad movie and we make it back to the station realtively unscathed minus Senna saying "Ok, sorry, a real train ride is still on my bucket list".....    Unscathed in theory.   I am pretty sure Michael, Abby and myself are much closer to going postal than we were when this started.    Michael is then blessed with some icing on the cake (nom nom)...Senna, Sterling and Axel think it will be fun to harass him to insanity (and Beyond!! (Buzz Lightyear style)).   I have to take a photo.    

Pretty sure the most entertaining part of the whole experience was much later (for me at least)...when I went to lob over the photo of the barbarians going after the innocent bystander (aka Papa)...and I was genuinely entertained, laughing out loud as I zoomed in losing focus on the subject and noticing Mila's impressive left hook.   

Cheers to the moments... good, bad and everything in between.  

Halloween 2017, the photo with a story....

As we meet up in Chattanooga for some door to door candy begging, the token group photo is required before the kids disperse and Sebastian inevitably gets lost.... a quick shot which seemed to have captured a moment that perfectly describes each of our adored PITAs.  It is not that the iPhone has better resolution than most SLR cameras and comes with programs to do any and every kind of digital editing imaginable. It is raw, unedited, perfect timing of a moment that made a photo with a thousand words....the chosen costumes, the facial expressions, the positions and the arrangement all the kids, tell their own story...

My Interpretation:

I cannot help but zoom in on the bright faced, hyper-innocent, adorably sweet, over-concerned, borderline dorky Dorothy (Senna) in the front....it is her...kind and loving, a girl to the core, a worrier, an old deep beautiful soul that vies for dressing up, singing and having all eyes on her....quickly you notice who has her back....the mischievous smile, tongue out, incredibly agile, strong and savvy Catwoman (Sterling)....it is her...street smart, tougher than her brothers, the care-taker, athletic, sneaky and funny as shit...not far beside is the smirking, gleaming dancer, plotting her next move, the one sock on (because why not),  white swan or Catgirl-in-training, Angel (Mila) ...it is her...youngest but wise beyond her years, a free spirit with an amazing sense of humor - living, laughing, loving and learning how to navigate the real world in style close to her mentor...

(not that I think it should always be ladies first, but the eyes go to those that don't have masks on)

Next is the creeper, the one who never looks the same direction as the others, smooth and cool, hiding behind the scary face, Grim Reaper (Axel).....it is him...independent, beautiful soul with a tough mask, breaker of the rules, follower of the heart, wild and untamed...front and almost center with props in-hand and full-on in action, larger than life colorful costume is the Halo character (Sebastian)...it is him...living in the moment, embracing the role, always in character, expressive, feeling the energy, carefree and notable....last but definitely not least, is the stoic, poised, watching the rest of the crew from his place in the photo, Mummy (Phineas)...it is him....smart, quiet, respectful, looking over the others as the oldest, the beautiful mind wrapped in his thoughts and his feelings....

7 am + 6 kids + Aretha Frankensteins = ?

Dates back a week or so, meant to write it down...better late than never... 

I am in Chattanooga for the night.   I get the brilliant idea to take the pack-o-kids to the amazing (longest wait on the planet) hole-in-the-wall dive in Chattanooga for breakfast *before* school...   

As I unroll the little people from the car with the sun barely rising and they file into the patio full off Halloween decor, it is a matter of seconds before plastic bloody legs and spider webs are not in their original state.    We get inside and with fair warning to the server, he and I collaborate on ordering copious amounts of pancakes & bacon.  Why is that what kids all want to eat?   I mean 6 for 6.  

And the wait begins.   But there is a savior.   Somehow these guys "played" video games for a cool 45 minutes on a non-functioning old-school Pac Man machine.    Imagination is beautiful.   

Food is ready at about the time we should be going into the school...it is utter silence for about 3 minutes while kids shovel as many carbs, sugar and saturated fat as possible.    Time to go. I am missing a kid or two in the toilet (still not sure how many) so I go inside and I hear the cook yell out the side door...  "That is not your plastic hand you put it back where it came from!".  (odd enough at this point)  Never have I seen Axel listen so quickly...when I looked over I realized the cook is decorated with a beautiful 30+ piercings on her face.   Now I'm scared too.  I hustle the 6 private school, uniform endowed kids to the car while the 2017 masochist version of the old lady from The Goonies is hanging over the dilapidated porch scouring over her misplaced plastic bloody hand.  #theonlythingweservehereistongue

Short ride to school with each kid shouting off their favorite song....anywhere from Tiesto to Alesso to Avicci.  (proud EDM-loving mom moment)

I rock up to school with sticky jacked-up kids hanging out the window of the car - we run into the office only 20 minutes late...  I semi-sincerely apologize to the office for our tardiness and confess to the not-so-approved reasoning (knowing full well any or all of those little minions would rat me out).   Surprisingly, I got a smile and a compliment that  'it's the moments that make the difference'.    Just another reason why the massive effort to get these kids to the Bright School is well worth it.    

Hard to see the light.

So........Mom....Mom, the most selfless human being many would ever know.   Mom, who lost my Dad earlier this year and has dealt with more CRAP from her kids than any great mother should.....

Mom who didn't want a dog (again).  But....her wild-ass dangerously huge-hearted daughter that is a magnet for misfit lost dogs, had way more pups than she could handle....so she,  (I) intelligently threw Carli on her lap.   And it was Love.   Mom loved her and Carli was happier than I've ever seen.  That consistent unconditional love that only a dog could give made the house warm and full again....

Epic.   I did it, I gave Mama something back.                                Until today.

I am taking care of Carli for mom while she drove to VA...  But this afternoon I can't find Carli.   I call, drive, whistle, search.  Nowhere.  I tell Mom I cannot find her and get a sobbing call.   My heart is sinking lower than imaginable.   

About an hour ago, I find Carli.   Bloody.   Dead.   Hysteria is hard to describe unless you have been there.  The chaotic-self, comprised of a tornado of emotion that is unimaginable and uncontrollable.   I was there.   

I don't know exactly what happened to Carli.   My greatest fear is that my other homeless, "helpless" dogs did something to her...but I will never know the answer.   What I know, is that I feel like the most inadequate, blood-sucking daughter than anyone could ever have.    

And I am SO fucking sorry, Mama.    I have again caused you heartache.   There is nothing more that I want than to bring you joy, relaxation and happiness.   Epic. Fail.

Forgive me.  Please.   

Just last night...   RIP Carli.   

Hornet 0 - Jessie 1 and a Cat Skeleton morning...

5:40am.. enters The Hornet (worthy of capital and bold) on steroids.   After the massive sting in my bathroom at 5am a few weeks ago, there is no sympathy from this devil.   Sadly my hornet spray is long gone and the bug racket must have been hidden by the scorpions that keep coming in the kitchen...    After a pathetic attempt to clean the hornet to death, hurl a half broken shoe with bad aim, cheer a pitbull hopelessly flailing in the air and a lot of screams as well....the Vietnamese broom scores.   Hornet 0 - Jessie 1.  

Wide the fuck awake, I pack 6 kids in the not-so-fancy-functional black SUV required of all bus stop moms.   Make it with a minute to spare and Mr. Reggie (bus driver) tells me the school bought Mila a car seat.   Baffled and confused, I ask "Why, I don't even have one for her?"    "Ms. Jessie it's the law, legally she has to be 4."   (Blank stare.)   Good to know.   #momoftheyear

So as my morning was going to be a hot rush back to the farm to take care of the horses, build a website and get and hour away for 2:00 doctors/dentist appointments....I decide it is the right time to go into Home Depot for a lightbulb.

  Which of course anyone with half a clue, knows you never go into the orange store for one thing.   Quickly find out they don't have RV bulbs but get innocently distracted by the plethora of Halloween decor on my way to get hornet spray.    As I imagine the setup I could build around a 1200 acre farm and really want to scare the hell out of Nat one night, I also realize I don't have a dime to my name.   So, as a compromise between my adult and child self, I purchase the $18 skeleton cat.  

I flew home annoyed my tardiness and the ease in which I revert back to a 10 year old, but turn up Spotify, thankful for my BEATS speakers in my Chrystler-knows-what's-important whip and Nom de Strip, "Bad Things"  comes on.....the irony was epic.  Cat skeleton selfie was a must. 

Bar Keepers Friend,  great household cleaner...not good hornet killer.    Just FYI.

Scorpion, Uhm.

On time today and fairly drama free so far (could have taken a turn had one of us stepped on the scorpion waiting in the kitchen this morning)...kids are singing Skrillex on the way to the bus (because whose 3 and 7 year olds don't know him?).  

(Side note:  I did upgrade to a 7 passenger SUV ((yes, it is also black albeit more functional than luxury)) and today, 2 months later, I can finally get to the bus stop without using a GPS)

Mila is exhausted and not feeling great so I beg and bribe her to stop crying and I carry her onto the bus fashioning a do-rag, ratty converse and riding britches.   Plop her on the seat, throw a blanket over her, thank the 5th grader for babysitting and run to Walmart with Deorro playing way louder than it should be at 6:58am.    

I am going to be banned from the bus stop...

Heading off to get 6 kids from the bus stop of stay-at-home-bank-rolled-PTA-moms.   Last time I was covered in dirt, strapping 5 kids in the back seat...  Today I should take the pickup truck with lawn chairs tied down in the bed perhaps?   Rock the Transcend the Bullshit tank?   (it could use a wash but whatever)

Ooops.   Wrong address in GPS.   20 minutes late.  FML.

5:30 alarm is early, but we got this...

So we are good.   6:25am, we are out the door... kids are cheered, fed, dressed and off to the bus full of trust fund kids (I just used my kids' last $200 of savings for food).  Forgot one thing.   Adds one minute.   One minute is too many and we will be late.   I text the bus driver and head stepford wife.   I'm flying in the dark country road.  Waze shits the bed and I start to panic.   It comes back to life and turns me behind a school bus.   A bus that stops at 4 driveways in a row that are no more than 12 feet apart.   (These F'n lazy kids need to walk to one place.)  Now full blown panic, cussing and crying and honking at a school bus. (yeah proud moment)  I keep texting bus driver and queen bee.  Finally they respond and will wait for us.   

Of course, I have clearly just shown that I am texting and driving.   So at this point why not go full tilt.   Apologize to the kids for my breakdown, turn up the sub and throw some Rosa Parks on and rap our way on two wheels into the parking lot.   I jump out with manure covered shoes and toss the kiddos on the bus.   #winning    *note to self: purchase Starbucks gift card for bus driver and hopefully earn some future ass-saving days*

A couple days later back for bus pickup...

Rockin' the do-rag today for pickup.   Now they aren't talking to me.   The presentation of the new golden doodle puppy is all consuming.   The squealing of excitement is video worthy.   

I'm like, yeah I have 3 dogs, all pitt-bull rescues probably wandering the street near my house rolling in dead animals right now.    Actually I know they were, my arm definitely smells of carcass.  

The square peg round hole drives to the bus stop...

Preface:

Massive changes, the girls and I start over... largely a dream place to control-alt-delete.   The incredible school we are so blessed for conviently brings entertaining 30 minute drives to and from the bus stop.  The small shiny private school bus situated elegantly in the mountains of GA (in the Home Depot parking lot) add for a fun twist to our already crazy life.   Well-mannered, well-educated uniform dressed kids being dropped off by parents donning polo shirts and tennis skirts, lining our corner of the lot with almost identical luxury (black) SUVs.

These moments of my black sheep existence throw back a few weeks, but in the spirit of content and giving this blog idea a full-court press, I figured I should add some earlier trips in the mix...

------------------------

First week -

Definitely going to be squealing into the kids bus stop at least 5 minutes late, smelly and soaking in sweaty white tank top and arms covered in ink....think I am going to have to turn up the "Ghetto Blastin" playlist just to insure I won't be asked to "Room Rep" again.

If that doesn't do it, when I pack 5 kids into the back seat of the Jeep, that should seal the deal.