On the Verge

I almost lost it completely in the car today.

Cole only napped for an hour. I tried to rest, but did not succeed. I tried to get work done: dishes, cleaning, organizing, writing…but did not succeed.

I managed to be depressed and cranky. Perhaps it started with Gen’s insistence on getting dressed downstairs this morning. Or with Nana’s fifth request if I had gone to the bank yet for her (for a completely trivial matter).

After picking up Genny from school, going to the bank, and heading home, Cole started screaming. I turned on the radio to try to soothe him and then Genny said in a snotty voice, “Both Cole and the music are too loud!”

The urge to screech to a halt and scream was overwhelming. Somehow I found my happy place and made it home. Only to step out of the van and be greeted by Nana at the door, “Did you go to the bank for me?”

Happy place…happy place…happy place…

God is in the Details

“How will I know where to go when I drive?” Genny asked from the backseat as I drove her to school.

“By the time you’re old enough to drive, you’ll know your way around well, or you can use a map.”

“But how will I know where to go if you die?”

And thus begins another one of our death conversations. They tend to happen on our drives to school.

“More than likely you’ll be a grown up with your own children by the time I die. You’ll have learned everything you need to know from me by then.”

I’m always careful to not say, I won’t die before you’re old, because I can’t lie. What if I did die all of a sudden? I don’t want her hating her poor dead mother.

“I don’t want to die.”

“I know, Honey, and hopefully you shouldn’t until you’re very old. That’s why Daddy and Mommy want us all to eat well, exercise, and take care of ourselves, so we can live a long healthy life.”

“I run—that’s exercise,” Genny said.

“Yup.”

“God is everywhere, right, Mommy?”

“Yes, God is love and love is everywhere.”

“Even in the trees, and the sky, and the road!”

“That’s right.”

“And the garbage can, Mommy! God is in the garbage can!”

“Yes!”

“What’s in my lunchbox, Mommy?”

And so the conversation turns.

Trailer Park bride

A 16-year-old girl who lives in a trailer had a $200,000 wedding paid for by her father.

Read the whole article here!

What was most shocking to me was that this girl looks more like a stripper in her wedding dress than I ever did in my stripper attire.

I try to remember back to when I was sixteen and wanted to be noticed, but somehow I can’t seem to remember wanting to wear something like that. And at sixteen she wants to be a “glamour model.”

Perhaps this could be the first young lady for Stripper Mom to go and have a talk with, although she does seem quite happy with being photographed dressed like that. But maybe Stripper Mom might be able to dig a little deeper and find out if any other dreams lie hidden beneath the Swarovski crystals.

I tried to find an update on Missy Quinn, but alas, I could find no mentions of her besides her wedding day.

The Mundane

I am so beyond exhausted tonight. I drove to the city to visit with a friend; I hit I-95 traffic going in and coming home, turning two hours of travel time into four.

Cole, of course, came along. Since I’m breastfeeding and not pumping, I can’t be separated from him for more than an hour or two. For the past four-and-a-half months I’ve only been away from him twice.

He was very good in the car until he wasn’t. The traffic on the way home wore him down and so did the 90 degree weather. For the last 45-minutes of the drive he was screaming and crying. I reached over into the backseat so he could suck on my finger, which usually calms him. Not so much today.

I would have stopped and nursed him a bit, but I was running late to pick up Genny at school.

Then it was a double bath night. Cole went first, nice and quick, and then I let Genny play for a half an hour in the tub. I allowed her to stay up late until Nick came home and so she is still not asleep. She’s waiting for me to come back upstairs and lie down with her. I’m hoping she’ll be asleep in a few minutes so I can crash out for a few hours.

It felt good to go into the city, but I knew I would pay for it tonight. With exhaustion.

Is it worth it? Is fighting to keep some of my old life alive possible and worth it? Of course. Of course.

But, oh, am I tired.

Stripper Savior!

Nick, Cole and I went to Nick’s cousin’s wedding this weekend while Genny stayed with my father and stepmother.

On our ride home in the minivan we were throwing around ideas of what our reality television shows would be if we had one. Which one would have the most chance of making it? Where was the drama?

We realized that Nick’s doing flash design (sitting at a computer all day and eating) might not make for very exciting television. But Stripper Mom? Hmm…some potential there.

I quickly nixed the idea of Stripper Mom returning to stripping across America to see how American men would react to a late-thirties, out-of-shape mother taking her clothes off. True, drama might ensue, but I’m not sure the kind I would want to deal with at this point in my life.

But Stripper Mom traveling to strip clubs and trying to convince strippers to get out of the business? Hmm…possibly. I was quick to point out to Nick that I have nothing against women stripping if it’s what they really want to do, but from what I’ve seen, there aren’t too many women who fit into that category.

Perhaps I could have a big bus with some slogan painted on the side…Stripper Mom—Saving Strippers Across America!

I would stage interventions where I helped exotic dancers figure out why they were stripping…I would offer new possibilities…money to fulfill and pursue their real dreams…

Wow, how cool if the Stripper Savior had rolled up to a club I had been working in.

Of course, I might not have as much to write about now.

So...what would YOUR reality show be?