A dream is only as real as you make it...

Some time ago on here I wrote a post about having a dream that involved my grandfather. He passed away from cancer when I was right around 15ish. In my dream at the time, he didn't speak but smiled at me. It's fuzzy now and honestly I'd have to re-read the post to get it right I'm sure. Last nights dream however... is very clear right now.

     I was reading through an email on a park bench. I was the only one on the bench and the one across from me was empty completely. As I scrolled through this email, I started to cry. It was more than just a rejection notice from the literary agency I had submitted to, it was a horrifying break down. The gist of it was that there was no way a highly rated firm was going to pick up and carry a piece of no talent trash like me that peddled out meaningless notes that are far from worthy to be printed in an actual book. (Rough right?!? Assholes...) I cried and when the email was read fully I reeled my arm back and chucked my phone over the bench across from me where there was now an old man sitting. Thankfully, it whizzed past him. "Oh my God! I am so sorry! I didn't think anyone was there, I was really into my message, I am so, so sorry." The old man smiled at me and said "Not a problem, no harm done." His voice was so familiar... He didn't have a phone but instead picked up a newspaper and held it in front of his face to read. On the back, where I could see, were the obituaries. And three names over with his picture and all... My grandpas name. Without moving the newspaper out of the way, he spoke again and I couldn't help but stare, frozen. "Some times things seem bigger than they are. Some times we just need to step back and realize that a dream is only as real as you make it. If it were easy to do, it wouldn't be called a dream, but instead a routine. You're bigger than a routine my dear. I know you believe in things and even fewer people. But never forget, the one you have to believe in the most... is you sweetheart. Just because a door slams in your face, doesn't mean it's gone. It means you power through it again or find another door."
          More tears continued to fall as I heard my grandfathers voice tell me all of those very true things. It was almost like he was hiding in plain sight and needed to tell me that as I was getting a door slammed in my face. As if not to "out" him, I sniffled and said "Thank you for all of that. If my grandpa was here next to me, I feel like he'd tell me the same things. Thank you, sir." With that, the old man folded up the paper, stood up, smiled at me while tipping his hat and then walked away. I sat there wishing I could've hugged that man. But he was gone. I stayed on the bench watching the sun set before I woke up.
    Waking up from that, it was hard. Hard to know that I couldn't call him up and tell him about it and even hard to repeat yet again, that it was all true. I can't let obstacles stop me from what I want to do. If one route gets completely blocked, I either bulldoze my way through or find a better way. It seems shorter written down but oh so vivid in my mind.. I wish I could hug him.. It's crazy that that was more than half my life ago.. Crazy stuff. Have a great Wednesday guys. Sorry it's not longer but I had to share it before it was gone. :)

-SuperMom

So "Momager" is a thing and I'm one of them...

While roaming around the house, gathering the remains of dinner, I found myself thinking of tiny little things... Things that had nothing to do with.. ME. The first thought was 'I'm so glad I got him coffee before he ran out' and the next was 'I have to schedule Bailey's well child visit' and so on.. By the time I got to cleaning the microwave (you know that thing you don't like to do especially if it wasn't YOUR can of exploding red ravioli sauce that MADE the mess..) I thought 'Holy shit... I'm the manager of this whole freaking place. If I died today, my family would be screwed without me! I am a legit momager!' As my little scrubber made the same repetitive circles, my mind drifted off to what all I ACTUALLY do around this joint and all the people I serve all day.. every day.. every week.. week after week.. I have a husband who works 11 hour days 4 days a week.. on third shift.. I have a 3 year old.. a 9 year old.. and a 12 year old.. All girls.. What I do for my husband on an average day.. a working day I should say... Quiet control (did I say I had a 3 year old.. yeah... fun stuff..) so he can sleep through the day, making sure he's always stocked with shampoo, toilet paper, shaving cream, razors, cologne, glasses wipes, chips, water and anything extra. Dinner time is when he gets up before he goes to work.. The 12 year old... Making sure she's on track at school while dealing with middle school drama, hormone control (or lack there of), fun monthly chats, chores, homework, did I say puberty? Yup.. Then there's the 9 year old.. She's the sleepwalker from previous posts (go read!) and she's a wannabe slick and smooth little criminal with handfuls of drama and possibly a touch of hypochondriac... She will be the one that keeps me on my mom game.. Always straddling the line. No.. Standing on the line while holding her leg over the bad side of the line... Anyway, she wants to act like the 12 year old while the 12 year old wants to believe she's an adult.. Attitude? There's PLENTY to go around here... The 3 year old just became obsessed with Barbies. I mean it... obsessed. As in Mom (me..) had to play for TWO HOURS today! When we're not doing THAT... It's trying to get in sync with counting, writing and the damn alphabet she does not like... Grrr... She'll recite a book back to me and we can read for hours but seriously, trying to get her to sing the ABC's... I get to H and she goes "that's enough.." Really kid? So playing school teacher and barbies AND doing the daily house garbage... Yup. There are things I don't like to do of course but, in order to stay sane, I do them.. Mopping floors is one that drives me crazy. Dishes of course but that is one thing that landed on the kids' chore charts (NOT by accident..) and then there's.. laundry. One day (while sorting laundry) I was stupid enough to come up with laundry math.. Let me warn you, IT SUCKS! I do my laundry once a week. There are some occasions where I stretch that to 10 days even.. I wash and dry then sort through everyone's crap and the older girls take care of their own, the youngest "helps" (on a good day..) and I take care of mine and my husbands.. Let's use the 10 days for this fun math I'm about to ruin you with... I have a family of five... So in 10 days assuming my family each wears ONE outfit a day (which is usually NOT the case!), I should expect 50 shirts, 50 pants, 100 socks and 50 pairs of underwear... Socks included, that's 250 articles of clothing! I mean... DAMN! It's enough to make you want to just say "NOPE! I'm DONE!" Washing the clothes isn't the irritating part to me thankfully. It's the putting away that's annoying as shit. This goes here, that goes there, this gets ironed, this gets hung, this drawer, that drawer... GROSS. It's one of those damned if you do, damned if you don't things too which sucks. I'm sure my husband would put them away no problem... But uh.. WHERE he would put them.. that's the thing that would probably bug me. I'd have to be the one standing there saying "In that drawer, hang, fold.." and if I'm going to be there doing THAT, I might as well DO IT and get it done a hell of a lot faster. It's just like putting the dishes in the dishwasher... I swear they just throw them in leaving random spaces and gaps all over just to mess with me. Tetris people! Fit them in!!! It's just crazy to realize how much I keep things.. GOING. I can't remember the last time I asked anyone in my house where something is... On the other hand, just yesterday I myself was asked the following things.. "Have you seen my notebook?" and "Where's the thing you use with the play doh?" (right... the thing...) and even "Did you move my other shoe somewhere?" What? You know, yes, yes I moved your left shoe but left your right one so we could make getting ready to leave on time a game... NOOOOOOOO.... I have to be aware, alert and conscientious about everybody's everything all the time... The momager... Not just some Hollywood spun name for reality quacks who produce fame whores. It's an actual thing. It covers ALL the bases I guess... It's the umbrella over the actual multitude of occupations I have in my home. Driver, cook, maid, teacher, counselor, lawyer, planner, accountant, librarian, historian, decorator, baker, photographer, hazmat crew, garbage collector, mediator, doctor, author, mechanic, officer, host, warden... Good God... I'm sure there's more.. We get ripped off a little bit don't we? There are no sick days to cash in.. vacation days? What the hell is that? No complaint box mounted on the wall... Yet. Hmm... That may be a project actually... Mom's complaint box... It can be locked with the little slot and everything... Through the week I drop in my complaints and then unlock the bastard box on Sundays and go through my torrid weekly gripes.. Oh my... It was a joke but now... Hmmm.... PROJECT! All of these thoughts in here just kinda hit me on an off day where it seemed like everyone was having their OWN off days and for some reason it's always up to ME to make everyone all chipper and perky while I'm thinking "Leave. Me. Aloooooooonnnnnnneeeeee!" on the inside.. No one else in this joint can do the job. Not even super dad. Could you imagine your husband or boyfriend doing everything you do? Probably not and do you know why? Because you'd be hovering making sure they're doing everything RIGHT. I would be anyway... Yet another damned if you do... AND if you don't... What a pile of..... Well, I guess my steam has dissipated somewhat thankfully. Thanks for hanging in there! Have a great Tuesday creeps. And I mean that in the best way. :)

-SuperMom

Silly, silly feelings..

When you're alone with thoughts of different things and you just happened to have a computer nearby... Things tend to happen.. Sometimes they're wonderful things.. and sometimes.. They're like THIS.. Oh feelings.. Silly, silly feelings... 

I'm not a freaking backup, I'm not some little baby doll...

Not someone you want to mess around with. no, not AT ALL...

I can help you fix your problems unless they always stay the same...

If you don't ever change it, then honey you're the one to blame...

I bet this comes off harsh, not harsh it's truth,  this ain't a game...

Remember when I tell you this, this girl won't fall for shit, remember here's the name.

K like in Kinda kicks a lot of ass, if you get in my face yours will be pushed down in the grass

A like an angel that crawled straight up right outta hell, who probably knows more than you would ever tell

R like a raging ranting hurricane.. Not giving any fucks cuz she knows they're all insane

A like amazing, truly an amazing find, amazing as a psycho bitch who can also be quite kind

K-A-R-A

Say the letters every single fucking day

K-A-R-A

Not everyone can be made this way

K-A-R-A

I don't really care what you will say

K-A-R-A

That's the end now GO AWAY!

GOOD NIGHT.

-Super Mom