A Day Off

Ever since I had my first baby, a beautiful blonde tiny girl with a halo on her head and a dimple in her chin, I didn't want to let go of her. She was so dang hard to get into this world that I got a little protective over her. I mean, after having two mutt dogs that sleep outside rain or shine and that drive around in the back of the truck at 65 mph, a baby is SO fragile and dependent.

I know I was born to be a Mother...amongst other things. I took to it with a surge of energy and passion, but that didn't mean I knew what I was doing. I had a lot of theories that broke real quick. Babies do not want to ride in a back pack down a trail for hours on end just because you love nature. Instead, she just might have to poop when you put her in there and then, because you can't speak baby, ends up crying the whole time you figured she would gaze up at the trees and blue sky in awe. Such a rude awakening. .....not that it ever happened to me!

So we didn't leave our cherubs even though we were told over and over again that it was good for all of us. We just like to be together. And just like you don't need someone to tell you when you're hungry, you don't need someone to tell you when you need a break. You just know. And after 9 yrs on the job I was ready. Last week I had a DAY OFF!

I needed to get out of the house without kids and go do something with adults and enjoy uninterrupted conversation. I cried and begged and pleaded and bargained and blackmailed my way to the top of the list for "next in need of vacation to avoid nervous breakdown".

So on a Sunday afternoon, I called my Mother and told her I would be headed to McCall to visit her the following morning after coffee. I came back in the house and told my husband the plan and he said, after 5 minutes....

"Why don't you go up tonight?"

"Really?! Just leave? Just like that? I need to make some dinner for you guys--"

"I'll make the dinner."

Oh, my! The man of my dreams....and I was actually married to him! That made it easy. It took me all of 2 seconds to pack. No diaper bags, no extra water bottles, no 50 changes of clothes in case the baby pees her pants or the big girls roll down the dirt hill....just one bag....ONE! After deciding to make my husband a list of JUST how to do everything while I was gone and just how NOT to do things, and then changing my mind and deciding that even if they ate cereal and watched Scooby Doo for two days......they would survive, I climbed in the pick up and waved goodbye.

I rolled the windows down and let the cool wind blow all around the cab of the truck. I turned up the stereo too loud because I could. And I tried not to worry.

"Oh, yeah, I have to mail that stuff to the insurance company....the septic needs to be emptied....I hope he doesn't forget to check the mouse trap...."

Shut-up, Shoshannah! Who cares. It's less than two days. It will be okay.

So, needless to say it took a couple hours before I could calm down and relax. Mom and I went out to the McCall Brewing company and snuggled into a corner table with an appetizer and a glass of zin. It had been too long between times like these. To push that stress and guilt from my "mother mind" felt so good, once I got the hang of it. My job doesn't allow for stray thoughts very often with a 2 yr old always ready to walk off the edge or step in the water or try to use the kitchen knife or saying, "I gotta poo poo!" So to have that time at my disposal, to think what I wanted to think, and even more importantly say what I wanted to say without the worry that it would need explaining to my 9 yr old and spelling all of the bad words and making kids leave the table so they wouldn't learn how to gossip....aaahhh, sweet relief!

I layed down that night and thought to myself...

"I have not had one stressed out reprimand come out of my mouth in like 8 hrs. I am a fun person...not just a "no no" fountain. I am SO going to enjoy this!!"

And I did. We watched a movie. I helped Mama put up a new display of her beautiful paintings in the Gallery 55. We went shopping for groceries and laughed in the aisles like little kids. We made a spring green salad with smoked salmon and bought fresh salsa and chips at Chipalas. We celebrated my brother's 24th birthday and stayed up WAY to late. Little brother and I bonded with shuffle board and PBR. We sang at the top of our lungs to Queen and CCR and laughed at stupid jokes and old memories. We snuck around the house the way we used to 20 yrs ago when we were sneaking chocolate chips late at night. It was like being 20 again.

When it was time to get in the truck and make my journey back up the road toward Riggins I was very satisfied....and a bit hungover. I stopped and got an Americano with cream at the drive through espresso shop and relished my folk music and the beautiful spring day. That 2 days was like 2 wks.

I pulled into the driveway and you should've seen my greeting! Oh, man, I was royalty!! Daddy and the girls flung the door open and greeted me with gusto. I MISSED them. I love being needed and loved on and I love long stories with stutter words. I love my loud laughing girls in their beds in the morning and eventually making their way to our room with giggles. I love making dinners and cleaning up and I love turning on music and watching them dance. I love family get togethers where we all laugh and tease each other and where we play games and comment on the weather and take turns holding the fussy baby. I love to get away and to realize who Shoshannah is by herself. I love to dig down deep and find new enthusiasm for ways to express myself. And I love who I am to them....the Mommy, the safe place, the kiss for owies, the kitchen boss and the story teller.

It is like one of my Mama's paintings, the ones with all the colors. You see the picture....you think you know what it is. Then as you look closer you see each brush stroke and all of the colors within the colors and you realize that it takes alot to make up the vision. You can feel what it is through all of those movements and textures and it makes you want to laugh and cry.

We are all made up of each other and of ourselves. We are all alike and different and needy and independent and fragile. We are strong and full of life and we are weak and need built up to face the storms. We are a people that need to be reminded what it was like when we were free and young so that we can appreciate being servants and aging into a beauty we never knew was going to be as awesome as it is....and OH IT IS!

Oh, and P.S. When I got back the 2 yr old's finger and toes were painted! Yay, for a sweet wonderful Daddy that does spelling tests and makes good meals and reads while Mommy is away!!

Mean Mommy Syndrome

Loud is different than mean. But, being loud is kinda mean sometimes. Yes, I was having a mild anxiety attack. Maybe she had picked up on that? She was innocently sitting on the toilet. The perfect 2 yr old with her simple mind. I hollered out the door some instruction-rule-reprimand to the other members of my tribe, and she looked up sharply, "You mean, Mama?"

Who me? Your sweet Mother that cleans your messes, makes your meals, holds you and sings to you, wipes your fat spaghetti covered cheeks (and the other cheeks)...NO, I am NOT mean! But....I had been annoyed, under gunned, out numbered, hormonal, and depleted of patience before noon. In some cultures that could probably be considered "mean".

Some days it's SO easy to be nice. I WANT to stop doing dishes to run and kiss her little knee when she trips. I want to read that Curious George book for the 100th time. I want to patiently listen while she tells me all of her little secrets. But, that week...the week my 2 yr old dubbed me as MEAN....I didn't want to do any of the things I was supposed to do. I don't particularly like myself on those days. The kids are looking at me like a boiling kettle that's gonna start screaming at any second. The school gets done at a frantic pace and they are looking for the door! Everyone has bad days. But, for some reason, when MAMA has a bad day...watch out!

It's because I am the support beam for this unit. I am made just perfectly to fit under my house of Hollons, and never let them drop. I know this. It all rides on Mama's mood. But, instead of an intricate part of construction, some days.... some rare-windy-snowy-wet-live-in-a- camper-with-three-kids days....I feel a little more like that brown rug that lays by the front door. I catch most of the dirt before it becomes part of my floor. I need shaken and beat out just to look like I'm doing my job. I am the mess protector. And, no I'm not complaining. It's simply true that to be great you have to be small. And to be small you have to realize you are great. I'm doin' a GREAT job.....that's my mantra that goes through my head on a reel.

If I could turn back time I would not change ONE thing in my life. Not one. I used to have a list of things I would change. But, you know what? It's all part of this beautiful mud rug that makes me and I'm keeping it all. I have always been where I am supposed to be. If it wasn't a success I learned that I didn't want to do that again. And maybe I would do it again, anyways. Life is short and we are people that are in need of change, challenge, and excitement.

I LOVE my job. The beam and carpet thing. Love it. I cannot blame my bad mood on my three kids. They are still doing what they've always done. It just happened to be getting on my nerves more during Mean Week. They laugh, run, spill, draw, cry, fight, eat, spill, potty, create, sing, talk, love, read, play, and sleep. They are imperfectly perfect.
























I cannot blame my bad mood on my Man. I know I'm the lucky one. He is trustworthy, honest, and fun. I look in his eyes and see that 18 yr old that drove too fast and smoked Camels, two at a time, and I know that we are meant to be together through the rain and the shine. No, it was not my sweetheart's fault that I was in the funk.

When the wave of blah hits and I feel like I will literally explode if another thing goes 1/2 inch off my controlled little train track of life then I really only have one person to blame. Yes, it's me. Wow, it sure feels good to admit that. There is something nagging at the back of my mind when the mad Shoshee rears her head. It could be lack of outside time. Overindulgence in the bacon products and needing a cleanse. It could be rest. But, somewhere in my subconscious I know what I need to do. It's just a matter of DOING it. Making the change and standing strong.

So, to ease the pressure of being everything to everybody I took a trip to the Main Street Hair Salon. I know, I'm not a salon kinda girl...but somewhere inside of every woman is a princess waiting to be pampered. I suppose I should have gotten a massage or a hot oil treatment or a trim...but I went for the waxing of the facial hair. It kinda fit with the week I was having. No kids. No questions. Just me and the warm wax and laughs with those fun ladies that make all of Riggins beautiful. Aaaaah, what a treat.

It's not politically correct, AT ALL, to write about your bad week WHILE you are in it. It's okay afterwards because you can laugh about it. When you are IN it, nothing comes to mind but the negative without the kiss of witty sarcasm. It's just plain "whining" and that's all there is to it. So, as the Mean Week moves further back in time and as the 2 yr old has decided I must be nice and isn't asking if "You mean?" 5 times a day, then it must be okay to write about it and laugh.

If I just take some independent moments to realize who I am, not who I was or who I want to be....but who I AM, then I can see where I need to be headed. I am the me that I am supposed to be. Only the drive within can push me to greater heights. I awake in the wee hours thinking of all of the things that I want to do. All of the songs I long to play on the guitar, all of the books that I want to write, all of the new things I want to teach the girls...all of it just courses through me. Then I turn back into the butterfly I am instead of wallowing on the ground, a fat old caterpillar.

Home Sweet Home

Home is where your people are. Home is the place you feel most comfortable. People say, "There's no place like home," but that's not true. There are a million places like home....they are just "home" to other people. The older you get the more "homes" you have. I am comfortable here in the Salmon River Canyon. There is an ongoing relationship that I have with everyone and everything here. I may not even know it exists until I REALLY think about it. After living somewhere long enough, you will eventually have a story about everybody. Maybe just a little story, but a story just the same. Especially when that town has less than 500 people living in it.

I moved to Riggins, from Alaska, 17 years ago. My family had formerly lived in New Meadows, but on my return, my Dad had remarried and moved to Pinehurst. Man did it suck! I did NOT want to be here. The mountains were too tall. The girls dressed too preppy. The school was too big. (Yes, big! I came from a class of 7 and a basketball team of 6.) All of the faces were unfamiliar. It just wasn't MY town...yet.

I met kids that were nice. I met kids that were rude. I made people laugh. I fought with the teacher that made fun of my pants. I skipped school and jumped in the River and smoked cigarettes for the first time. I got good grades and kissed boys...not too many! I drank soda pop and made 3 pointers. I learned to ride the bus in style.

Pretty soon the mountains were like my Mama's hug and the River was like my sister. And, I found a best girlfriend that didn't have to wear make up all the time. Her mom had a van with a stereo that worked some of the time. We put on old army jackets and found our niche as the little hippie chicks. We drove out to Time Zone Bridge and talked about deep and trippy things. I started spending all the time I could up the Salmon River and learned how to drink cheap beer with the best of them....and the worst. I bought a vw van and learned how to play the guitar. I got a job at a fire lookout on the Clearwater and learned to be alone. I got a little puppy dog. It died. I got another one.

I met my husband in the boy I knew from school and we made each other laugh...and cry. We bought llamas and hiked around finding antlers. We camped and scoured the beaches for old rocks. We bought Oly stubbies in the box for $4. We hunted for deer and ate breakfast burritos. We hung out with Grampa and Gramma and fed their chickens. We bought a bus, with history, and parked it on the River. We decorated it with plants and pictures and played house. I sewed pillows for my dog.

We got married on our beautiful Salmon River. A grand shindig with a roast pig and family and music and swimming and sun. We had our first baby on that same River. It's been 9 years ago, this week. I was so young. We had no idea what to expect. I read 15 books on breathing and eating right and massage and nursing. It didn't prepare me for what I had to do. Nothing can teach you to labor, like labor. My sister came to stay with us. We played Skip-bo and cooked sausages and ate fish tacos and laughed a lot. She rubbed my feet. Travis paced nervously and mopped the floor. He "caught" the baby...little Hannah Hollon! She was perfect and she looked just like her Daddy!

We moved the bus to a road job in Council for awhile. We saved up $7,000 in a diaper box under the fridge for our dream property. I washed cloth diapers in a bucket and played with my baby in the shade by the creek. We met friends that are now like family. We went to their house and ate good food and stayed up late. Then we went back to Riggins and we bought 2 acres on Shingle Creek. We built a cabin. We planted trees and made mud pies and had campfires and told stories. We hung a swing up for the 2 yr old and taught her to count.

We had another baby! I was experienced enough to be scared of what was coming that time. I knew how hard it was going to be. I also knew how wonderful it was. Travis cooked pork chops, fed the midwives, and I paced and drank Raspberry Leaf tea. Beautiful Charlee Beth was born! She looked just like my side of the family! We had now doubled our numbers.

We got chickens. We got goats. We got cats and more dogs. We cut firewood. Travis traveled away to jobs and I stayed and counted days until he came home. I started homeschooling the girls. I went to the beach with my girlfriends and their kids. We taught them to swim and cussed the rafts that pulled up on "our" beach. We went to the library. We went to the store. Travis built a rental house in town. We built a health food store in town. We sold organic veggies and creamer. We sold our cabin. We rented for the first time in our lives and lived in North Riggins! We taught the girls to ride bikes and circled the neighborhood, visiting with anyone who happened to be out in their yard.

We had another baby! This time I wasn't scared. I was brave. I broke records, I'm sure. Tenesee Rose was added to the clan. We figured out we were very good at making pretty girls! The big sisters were so excited. Grammas and Grampas and Aunts and Uncles and friends and neighbors came to hold the new Hollon. We hosted Christmas in that house. We were all grown up.

This canyon holds all of that for me. And we are making more memories every day. The kids have best friends and they ride horses and they help us find mushrooms in the spring. We go out to Ruby Rapids and look for garnets. We go and lay in the sun while the kids chase the dog. We go in the bank and eat suckers. We go to basketball games and yell and chase kids. We stay up too late singing by the campfire...and forgetting most of the words. We chase the neighborhood goat!

It's day in and day out and it's all of these little things we do, when we think we are doing nothing, that make up just who we are. Time builds love and bonds that will last a lifetime. So, even when we leave we take the Salmon River and all of you with us. We load up our camper and head out for new adventures. We reunite with family we haven't seen for years. We see the coast. We walk new Main Streets and look in their little shops. We get jobs in new towns and make new friends. And, all the while we talk about home and what we will do when we get back. The kids make maps and plans for new forts and games they will play with their buddies at home. Leaving is somehow always about getting back.

So, I guess we are getting old. I guess we will never look better than we do today! I know that somehow, it will all make sense at the end of the road. I won't sit around and feel like I missed it all. I will relish in all of these things that make up who I am, who we are. Because we are living it up! We aren't wasting a minute! I see these certain strong and bold people around me. They let their hair go gray. They get a little thick around the middle. They laugh and hold their grand babies and tell stories over coffee. They are beautiful! I want to be like that.

I used to wonder how I would handle teething and the first day of school and temper tantrums and lies and talks about sex. I see now that you are just prepared when it comes. Somehow you are unfolding to this readiness of each stage of life. So I won't be scared when I roll out of bed and take a minute to straighten up and have to pop my left shoulder so it'll get moving again. And I won't run away from my 40th birthday party. I will enjoy each and every stage with all that is in me. Because, that's the good stuff!~

Time & Money Should Get Married

I feel like a bank robber when I go to the tax man. They seem to look through you as a person, and see numbers and red flags. Kinda like getting a physical from the doctor. "Okay, what's wrong? What do the numbers say?" Tax returns are not my friendly good feeling favorite thing to do.

We decided to have like 3 appointments on the day we did the taxes. May as well do it ALL when we leave town. That's not always the most peaceful and relaxing choice to make with the whole family stuffed in the cab. Unfortunately, we got there about an hour before any of the appointments started. This leaves 3 restless girls on the backseat ready to bounce out the door.
We made the slick decision to go to the playground. It was about 20 degrees. The kids lasted about 10 minutes. Their parents were sitting in the heated cab of the pickup after about 4!
Aha, another good decision! Two spicy Italian footlongs from Subway. Back to the picnic tables for the explosion of food.

After I leave the house is when I really take in what my kids are wearing. Especially the middle child. I looked now as we ate our sandwiches and she gave us a tap dancing routine in her pink cowgirl boots on top of the table. Her tall Peruvian goat herding hat flopping on top of her head. I just started to laugh! She flailed around like a sugared up country girl. Kids just want to have fun. Parent just want a tax refund! Dang adults anyway.



I guess I just don't understand money yet. It's the sweet ticket. It's food, shelter, gas, and fun stuff. It takes a lot of time to make it, generally. Where is the money tree? I've heard money is evil. If this is true then so is food. You can do "evil" things with any good thing. Money is lovely! When we have it we go to motels and we buy the good drinks and we put lots of diesel in the truck and drive, drive, drive. We get gidgets and gadgets that make this 'ole life a little easier. I personally like spending too much on music and movies. Shoes! Yah, shoes for sure! When we have money we have more time to just BE together and not worry so much about work. What a funny little circle we run.

I have big ideas though. I don't give up too easy. I've got a plan to trick this old money circle. Its a form of positive denial. I am going to practice feeling rich! I am going to say, "Boy, we are living the best of the best right now." And, I plan to say it A LOT. Then pretty soon I will believe it is easy and then it will be. Because, really, we are! We are healthy, strong, beautiful people.

I learned this trick from the kids. They make believe everything. Hannah, my 9 year old, was walking around the house with the play phone, laptop and wallet full of money. She sounded very serious in her business. She was busy "blogging" she told me. And she apparently wasn't hurting financially! She had a good 15 minute telephone conference with some agent. I remember being a kid and doing stuff like this...with 80's technology, mind you. I remember playing "adult" all the time. Oh, man, if only we knew how long adult hood was going to be...we might have played "kid" more.

So the tax man turned out to be a woman and we went in and split jobs and kids and appointments and made it without disaster, for the most part. We bought suckers and went on little outside walks and IRS stuff is done again for another year. And of course my thought is all organization for 2011. No more keeping things I don't need and tossing things I'm 'spose to keep. I will do it perfectly this year...until about July. Then I'll look in the box and say things like, "Why is the March bill in the May slot?" and "Where did that hot water heater receipt go?"
I'm not the only one. I could start a little club of good intentioned mis-prioritizers like myself and we would all share our stories over coffee with kids playing and tap dancing in the background. We would laugh because the government must have the same problem...minus the kids.

I've grown up in low income areas all of my life. What does this mean? Well, there's the politically correct way to describe it, and the red neck way. I'll just skip the first one. "Low income" means that you know what's on sale at the discount store because it's what you and all of your neighbors are having for dinner. You drive around in the back of your Dad's Toyota Corolla wondering if it's going to break down. It means you have a sack lunch and so does everyone else. In fact, it could mean Mama shows up behind the school with a huge pot of soup. A low income community means that we are all cutting firewood and filling the freezer in October.



This is good. This is the rich way of life, even though it doesn't show up in the numbers. Because, guess what else the country has to offer? Camping and beach parties with cheap soda, beer and hot dogs. We have the stars without city lights and fresh air. We have friendly faces that we recognize from childhood on up. We have football games under the big lights and drives into the woods. We know about invention and winging it. We know how to raise chickens, grind elk sausage, make bread, sew, unclog drains, fix sewer hookups, and cut down trees. We know how to clip coupons and count change. We look each other in the eye and shake on things. So that's the red neck way to tell the income status of your geographical location. If you are invited in for a keystone light or box wine, and if your stereo is in your pick up instead of an entertainment center, then it's pretty likely you live in a small town. And if small town means small income, I'm not scared! Bring on the spring and we'll work when we can and bbq some steelhead!

Good Lovin'

In a perfect world there would be no war, no famine, no divorce, no hate crimes, and no flat tires. My clean shirt would stay clean....all day. Relationships would be easy and my job would include a paycheck. Because sanity ain't cheap! And that's what I do. I'm the sanity super hero. I could eat Dr. Phil for breakfast!

My little clan is always on the verge of bodily, emotional, or mental disaster. And to keep that in check I must juggle my bag of tricks around and around and around. I must calmly remove the scissors from the 2 yr old, with the sucker in her mouth, that is running through the house drooling. I must remind the crying 6 year old that we can fix her necklace and it is NOT the end of the world. I have to stay patient while the 8 yr old interrupts me, yet again, during math class to tell me she doesn't understand what we have been working on for 15 minutes, even though I've explained it EVERY way I can think of. And, all of this while mantaining a vibrant relationship with the man of my dreams....my irreplacable husband.

Why is it so hard sometimes? It all seems so easy at 20, when all of the "hard" stuff is just a theory that some elderly lady is telling you will happen one day. "Oh, yeah. No, problem. I'm sure it will be hard, but we can do it."

And we CAN do it. And it will work. But, is it hard? Yes, because, when all is said and done...there is a lot more work than play when you are a "real" adult. Bills don't stop coming in the mail. Kids don't sleep through the night for the first......10 years. And date night is a MUST even when we both feel like sitting on the couch and watching Little Mermaid for the fourteenth time.

I am sick of the Mars and Venus style books about men and women. All of them focus on how different the sexes are. The similarities are overlooked a lot. We ALL want attention and interest given when we are explaining how our day went, wether it's about bridge embutments or the 5 yr old losing her first tooth. We all want to be heard and found interesting. It's universal. It's simple. It's almost impossible some days! We all want to be left alone and we all want to NOT be left alone. We all want to be attractive and we all want to find someone attractive. We all want to have a little money to spend on stuff and not to have to explain why. (Grocery money DOES NOT count!) We all want to have friends to laugh with. We all want to be that friend to each other. We don't want a cerfew. We don't want to feel like we are living at home with Mom and Dad. We are free humans. But it's very tempting to try and exercise some strange sort of control over our mate because EVERYTHING they do effects us.

It's hard to share everything. Ask my 2 yr old. It's engrained in us to want it to ourselves! It's not natural to give...it's supernatural. And that's what LOVE is all about. When we are in the courting stage it's pretty easy. Because we show off the best of the best. But after a time, we all get selfish. That's the stuff to work on. That's the stuff that makes or breaks us. And I want to make it! I want to be best friends and I want to treat my Husband like he's the coolest dude on earth, because he IS. We chose each other out of all the rest. That's amazing. Somewhere along the way our paths brought us to the same little canyon town in Riggins, Idaho and we met and made beautiful children!

So as the heat rises in my chest because I made dinner and it's getting cold and I'm waiting, wondering what's taking him so long to get home. And as I'm imagining that he's probably off b.s.ing with someone about horn hunting and I am wanting a break from the last 13 hrs of being super-mommy-doctor-psychologist...I remind myself again that the only change I can make in this situation is my attutude. And when he gets back and I find out he had to work an extra hour and then stopped to pick up a movie and ice cream for the kids after paying a bill.....I can tuck my tail and sheepishly say..."Hi, honey! Would you like me to warm up your plate?"

This all seems so personal, but it's really not. We ALL go through it. That is why Oprah even has a job! It is the reason that The Eagles had so many #1 hits. It is the cause of Danielle Steele selling millions of mushy steamy novels to housewives. It is why beer sales soar at the end of long work weeks. It is the reason Shakespear killed off so many people in his stories they made us read in highschool. Love saves us and drives us insane!

If we could remember the simple rules that we used at the beginning of the relationship we'd be just fine:

Maintain eye contact and genuine interest in what your partner is saying.

Hold hands all the time.

Write each other love notes.

Make each other tapes....(okay, it's cd's now)...with all the good love songs.

Go on drives.

Snuggle all night long.

Laugh at the little things that go wrong.

Don't get mad.

Tell each other that you love each other....and mean it.

Hold your farts.

Laugh if you forget to hold them!

Watch movies that your partner likes even if they are not your favorite.

Share the remote.

Don't interrupt.

Act like you havn't heard EVERY single story that they have to tell.

Go everywhere together.

Brag about how cool they are.

It's all these little things that we did at the beginning of our lives together that bonded us and made us the best of friends. I overlooked any imperfections. That's how I want my husband to look at me. Remember how it really is beneath all the day to day hum drum. It's magical!

Travis and I were at a fair in a small town in Northern Idaho, in our 20's, when we'd only been together a year or so. We met this old, smiley little couple that were celebrating their 60 year anniversary. We loved them right away. The live music was so loud and they were just tapping their feet and truly enjoying everything and everybody. We asked them, "So what is the secret to staying together, happily married for 60 years?" The old man said, "Laughter. Just laugh about it all and don't get mad." And his wife added, "And, you've gotta talk about things. Let each other know how you feel."

I kept that in my heart that night. Travis and I talked about them a lot after that. I want to be that way. Happy and open and truthful. I want to be 85 and enjoying a lifetime of being together and raising our children and seeing them grow and listening to live music with my hearing aid turned on high. I want to see a legacy of love grow from two kids that really didn't know how hard it would be...or how worth it. And man is it worth it!

Rules, Regulations, and Utter Chaos

It's not anybody's fault, so don't apologize. Just because I have this crazy stressed out eye twitch going on, like the uni bomber, and my lower lip is trembling like a school girl. No, please, don't feel at fault. It was my choice to try and do it ALL today. And yes, I know, RV parks have rules. Living in a 5th wheel has its challenges, I must say.`

I had left the camper with 3 kids, 1 dog, 1 leash, 4 coats, 2 pairs of gloves, a laptop, 2 elementary workbooks, 10 crayons, 2 pencils, a bag of laundry, a pocket of quarters, a bag of soap, the keys to the door, a blanket for the littlest one, a stroller to shove it all on-in-under-around, 1 bike pump, and 2 scooters....whew!



















I had a well thought out plan. It was executed in tactical precision. I started the laundry first, taking the baby out of the stroller so she could help put in the quarters and soap, while the big girls circled us like sharks on their scooters. After this we headed out of the RV park to the "trail", with little highway lines painted on it so you know which side to walk on, so we could let the dog do his business and not worry about the little poo bag that city people use...(please, God, never lead me too far from grass and trees!). Then we headed back with perfect timing, to switch the wash loads.

It was upon our return to the office/laundromat that the catastrophe unravelled itself. Tenesee escaped from me after "helping" me push the start button on the dryer. Charlee Beth was around the building and I heard her start crying and yelling. I ran around the corner in time to see her run around the other corner calling my name in blood curdling shrieks that I yearned to mute with a magic remote. I turned on my heel and sped back the other way, pulling the wee one behind me by her arm. I ran into Hannah around the corner who ran away from me to go help her crying sister. I let out a string of words that were not calm and peaceful, but thankfully still under my breath at this point.

The huge full sized windows, running the length of the RV park office, were framing us perfectly this whole time. Boy, what a show.

I scooped up the baby and cornered the building to find Charlee piggy back on Hannah. The drama?...a scraped finger from a scooter crash. Wow. So we all hugged and I reprimanded and the sympathies went out to the injured sister as we made our way to the office, so I could get wifi reception and finally check my email, while the clothes dried.

We piled through the door and I tried to look less stressed than I felt and totally in control of my out of control situation. A stout lady with huge glasses and a grimace on her face stood watch at the front desk. She had one of those short hair cuts with an 8 inch long piece of hair hanging down in the back. I hadn't seen one of those since 1988. She waited until I got all of my belongings lugged through the door and was almost into the sitting room and then she let out a whiney, "OHhhhh....are you going to leave your dog out there?"
Oh, man! My dog! Oops.



I replied something about how I had a leash for him but had forgotten to put it back on and she said something about how he could cause harm to the other residents here and couldn't be left unattended even if he was on a leash. (Yes, he may just lick them to death!) Then I said something about how it figured and she said something about how she was sorry but it was just the rules and nothing personal.

She WAS sorry and so was I. I know the rules. I just wanted it all to work out differently than that. I wanted it to be easy. And, I think we were both sorry for two completely different reasons.

So, I turned around with all the kids, the smilingly dangerous dog, wheels of all shapes and sizes, the blanket and the coats with the children loudly asking questions that I wished they would WAIT to ask. We walked the quarter mile back to the camper to tie the dog up. Back to the far end of the park where I get no wifi service even though it's advertised on the website, flyer, and sign....which is the WHOLE reason I had to barge into their quiet little office in the first place!

But I retreated calmly and matter-of-factly. No cussing the lady with the hair tail, or the runaway baby, or the scraped finger, or the dog with the silly ears...because it's nobody's fault, really.

And what else do we have to do today, besides have a good lesson in patience, in learning to slow down, and loving our fellowman regardless of false advertisement and unsympathetic tones.

So we finally made it back to the office with no dog and a lighter load. I entered boldly even though I knew, that before it was all said and done, I'd be ticking them off once again. And the big kids did their math, language, and handwriting. Tenesee stole the door muffler and played "snake" with it and only cried once and screamed twice. And I?...well, I checked my email and my Facebook and made all the contacts I needed to make...and got a good idea for an article.

So the mantra is: Let my soul be steeled against frowns and open to smiles, and may my smile be the biggest one of all.

Oh, excuse me, there's a knock on the door. It's just the manager here to tell me that my dog is off the leash again....oh well. Better put on that smile!

I AM a Beautiful Woman!

I have a fat roll that has a stubborn personality. It's like a 4th child....
I am a beautiful woman.
I can't concentrate on something longer than 30 seconds because of the kid chaos in my life....
I am a beautiful woman.
I have boobs that look NOTHING like they did when I was 17....
I am a beautiful woman.
I have hair that must stay in a bun most times so that it doesn't end up in the dinner.....
I am a beautiful woman.
I wear sweats until 10 am sometimes, just so all the chores can get done...
I am a beautiful woman.
I have tired eyes in the morning after staying up all night with the sick baby...
I am a beautiful woman.
I can't hear what adults are saying to me because my children are running, yelling, and crazy....
I am a beautiful woman.
I don't take the time to shave when we are on the road for a week at a time....
I am a beautiful woman.
I have garlic breath after making a load of pesto with basil that I MUST use up...
I am a beautiful woman.
My heels are cracked from wearing flip flops almost year round.....
I am a beautiful woman.
My fingernails are chewed down and I have a writing callous...
I am a beautiful woman.
I yell to the wind outside the camper, when all seems too much for me...
I am a beautiful woman.
My fingers have splits from 3 loads of dishes plus, daily...
I am a beautiful woman.
I look nothing like the women on People magazine...
I am a beautiful woman.
I don't wear make-up or product in my hair...
I am a beautiful woman.
I get a crazy look in my eye just trying to get from my truck to the store with 3 kids (sometimes)...
I am a beautiful woman.
I can grow rosemary and sage and use them in food and herbal remedies...
I am a beautiful woman.
I have strong fingers that play the guitar and a voice to sing my babies to sleep...
I am a beautiful woman.
I find pleasure in the smiles and laughter of my darling children...
I am a beautiful woman.
I pack on more than the accepted 25 lbs when I carry the love babies we make...
I am a beautiful woman.
I don't exercise everyday, like I should...
I am a beautiful woman.
I talk too much when I should just be listening...
I am a beautiful woman.
I get zits, even though I'm 34...
I am a beautiful woman.
I have stretch marks..
I am a beautiful woman.
I have hair on my face, damn it!...
I am a beautiful woman.
I eat too much cheese and pasta and lil' smokeys...sometimes...
I am a beautiful woman.
I can make a mean meal out of almost nothing...
I am a beautiful woman.
I like to watch Anne of Green Gables and cry...
I am a beautiful woman.
I like to read books about how we are divine creatures, full of endless potential...
I am a beautiful woman.
I sweat when I clean my house...
I am a beautiful woman.
My feet are almost size 9...
I am a beautiful woman.
I gave birth at home; scared, brave, in pain, and in ecstacy with my loving family all around me...
I am a beautiful woman.
I don't feel like a beautiful woman, most days...
I am a beautiful woman.
It is eminently easy for me to see the beauty in my girlfriends who are mothers, kidless, wives, single, thick, thin, stylish, natural, career ladies, stay at home gardeners, creative minds, simple comedians, with endless wonder....... and they remind me that.....
I am a beautiful woman.