An Only Daughters Only Daughter...

Thursday, March 23, 2006

Silent Night, Lonely Night

It’s quiet in here.

Too quiet.

BB has gone to the circus. Without us.

She’s 4 and running around town hanging out with clowns and the Flying Walendas and we’re at home. Alone. Just the two of us.

We don’t really know what to do with ourselves so rarely are we home on a weeknight without her. It’s different than when she’s gone on a weekend. That feels right. This feels very, very weird.

She’s with her Grandparents. It’s not like she has some wild night out on the town with the gang from Miss Lisa’s Daycare. She loves her Grandparents. (Both sets but maybe she likes this set just a tiny bit more. I would never tell that to the other set of course. I think it’s mostly because she spends a great deal more time with this set.) They picked her up early today from Miss Lisa’s and she’s spending the night. We think they will return her sometime tomorrow evening. Maybe, maybe not.

Anyway, I’m sure she’s having the time of her life while her Daddy and I sit in front of a television that is not on PBS Kids Sprout and we eat dinner that does not have the mandatory course of macaroni and cheese and no one will cry tonight when it’s time to go to bed and I don’t have to read the Toddster a bedtime story (at least I don’t think I do). What a concept. I’m not sure I can handle it. I miss her.

It’s way too quiet in here.

Wednesday, February 01, 2006

39 and Counting

I turned 39 last month and I must say ICK!! But maybe not so much ick, really. Nothing is all that new or different. I don’t feel any older. I don’t look any different. (The 10 lbs I gained over the holidays hasn’t show up yet.) But then there is the ick. The ick of knowing that in less than 365 days I’ll be 40 and OMG that scares me.

40 is middle age. 40 is MY MOTHER (who will be 60 in a few months and OMG again, how did that happen?). At 40 you have no excuses left to do stupid things. At 40 you are suppose to be a grown-up. At 40 tattoos look tacky, bikini’s are an “ahem, you really shouldn’t” and you know you should think about getting rid of the ponytail.

Also, please wear jeans that don’t show your ass crack and wear panties that are not IN your ass crack. (Okay, this little tip is thrown in there for women of any age). But I don’t want to see your purple thong up your 40 year old ass when you bend down to pick up the water bottle, the cell phone and the ipod you just dropped because you can’t drink, talk and move it, move it all at the same time. Maybe it’s because you were distracted by the fact that you have a rope up your ass and it’s rubbed you raw and it’s left you incapable of thinking. Or maybe that just happens because you are 40. I digress.

At 40 you should be really involved in your kids’ mid-high to high school education or if you were having fun when you were a teen you could actually have a grandkid to be involved with. 40 is Friday nights at home having pizza and a movie with you hubby or S/O because the kids are out of the house. At 40 your nights shouldn’t include table dancing at Sky Bar.

All the above is right? Right??? Maybe not. Except the part about the jeans and your ass crack, I still don't want to see them and oh maybe just dont' get any new tattoos. Anyway. I don’t think today’s “40” is the same as my Mother’s “40” was 20 years ago. “40” twenty years ago was much older. People had settled down, raised their families and were starting to plan for their retirement. Women certainly didn’t look or act as young as they do now. They were much more accepting of middle age. Twenty years ago a 40 yr. old man was resigned to socks with his sandals sitting in his Laz-E- Boy and happy about it! We have come such a long way to where age is really not about the numbers. There is no set time frame on life like it used to be. You can be standing in line next to a women holding a baby and it could be her kid or her grandkid. You can't tell by looking and it doesn’t even matter anymore. Age is what we make of it.

I think it’s the arthritis flaring up in my left hand pointer finger that got me started on this. That and I got a Carol Adams survey in my e-mail today for the “39 year old female” and at first I was like who the hell is that and then it hit me. I am the 39 year old female.

Well I guess I have 332 days to think about it.

Sunday, January 15, 2006

Let me introduce the family....

First we have The Toddster. He’s the hubby and has been for 16 years (minus the 3 yrs we were divorced but that’s a whole ‘nother blog). He is 42 and has worked for the same roofing company for 21 years. He’s long and lean and very sweet. He’s an old fashioned kind of guy. His parents are still married and are moving to a new house for the first time in 38 years. He has an older sister, a brother-in-law and a 27 yr. old niece. The Toddster was the “good one”. He saw his sister get in trouble and did his best to not.

The Toddster is a collector of junk and thrown-away treasures. It’s not unusual around our house to hear the words “Look what I found at the dump today.” He’s very sentimental when it comes to things from the past. I really think he should have been born a few generations ago.

He is not into computers, video games or electronics. (Insert a quiet “Thank God” from me.) He’s an outdoorsy type who loves to hunt and fish and mess with the yard. He’s boots and jeans and bluegrass music. He’s not a country hick though to call him a “redneck” is not necessarily considered a bad thing. He’s not perfect either but he’s mighty damn close and after nearly losing him for good I won’t go there again.

Then we have the next in the “Only Daughter” line. BB. Brystol Allyson to be exact but we call her “BB”. I started calling her that when I was posting on a baby board, it was short for Baby Brystol and it stuck. She is nothing short of a miracle baby (as all babies are). We found out we were going to have her in April of 2001. We were still divorced and this was the final little (ha!) kick in the ass we needed to get ourselves un-divorced and start living the life together we were supposed to. We go remarried in June and she came that Dec.

She has Shirley Temple curls and big blue eyes and an attitude. When she was a year old a friend of mine deemed her to be “the world’s youngest college freshman”. She is the only grandchild on my side and on The Toddster’s the only other grandchild is the 27 yr. old niece. Think she’s spoiled? My goal is to do as my Mother did with me. Of course she’s going to be spoiled because she’s the only, just don’t let her turn rotten. We’re keeping our fingers crossed.

Completing the Calloway Clan are the Cats. Callie is the big one and Strawberry is the f*cking nightmare from hell 6 mo. old kitten also known as “The Menace”. It is still up for debate if she will remain a member of the family. I’ll keep you posted.

Friday, January 06, 2006

I think I'll explain the only daughter thing...

I think I'll explain the "only daughter" thing.My maternal grandmother, Mae Isabel Walker Raper, was the only daughter of six kids.  My mother was the only daughter of 3 kids and I am the only daughter of the only kid.  Now I have a daughter and she will be the only kid too so the tradition continues.My great-uncle Ernest was a giant of a man. I remember him walking me around the laundry-mat he owned in Oklahoma City back in the early 70's carrying me in one enormous hand and reciting "She's an only daughter’s only daughters only daughter." He made me feel special for being an only daughter in a line of only daughters. He made me special for a lot of reasons. He was so dear to me. I spent hours with him and Aunt Jo playing in the laundry mat. What great memories.I lost my grandmother to leukemia when I was 17, she was 74. There is still a very deep dark hole in heart from losing her that I guess will never be filled. We called her Ma. She was incredible. I guess a lot of people hold their grandma's up on some kind of pedestal especially when time passes and the memories are all you have left. But Ma was really wonderful.She was the epitome of what a Grandma should be. She was born in June of 1907 in Indian Territory which later became the State of Oklahoma. She was the youngest of the six kids and the only girl.  She graduated high school and then went on to graduate from Oklahoma A&M College with a degree in Home Economics in 1930.  This was very unusual for women in those times and a great source of pride for our family.

Ma was 60 when I was born but she never seemed old.  She played with us kids (I have 5 cousins who were like sisters and brothers to me), she took the oldest cousin (with the rest of us in tow) cruising main street in Konawa, OK.  She let us swim in the ditch out at the farm when our dads’ had said no.  She had tea parties with us in the cellar.  She taught us that God loves us and Jesus died on the cross for our sins.  She taught us how to sew and to crochet and to cook.  She taught us how to take little bits of nothing and make them into the most wonderful somethings.  She taught us beauty and manners and a deep sense of respect for our heritage.  And, I guess the most important lesson she taught us was how to be strong and carry on once she was gone.

God I miss her.

Thursday, January 05, 2006

Oh my gosh, I've started a B L O G

I've decided to jump on the blog bandwagon. I have always loved being about two years and thirty minutes behind on things.

The older I've gotten the more un-hip, un-hop and un-happening I have become.

I really don't care though. I know the theme song to "Max and Ruby" and I dig Sportacus and my 4 yr old knows how to get to without my help. Life is really okay.

2005 was a year heartbreak for me and my family. But we're ok or at least we're getting there. You know you've had too many deaths in the family when your daughter wants to play funeral and says for the umpteenth time "Now tell me again how Uncle Harold died."

I had a hysterectomy last May at the right old age of 38. That was lot's o' fun. I'll spare you the details for now. Talk about life changing! Most of was for the good though, like no more knee bending, doubling you over, it hurts so bad you have to crawl to the bathroom pain. That part is good.

How the hell did my kid get to be 4 years old? Wasn't she just a little curly haired, boob smacking INFANT a few days ago?

I'm going to 39 in 16 days. How the hell did THAT happen?

Okay, enough random thoughts for one day. Let's publish this thing and see how it goes......