Chronicals of a Not So Ordinary Mom: Quarintine

Let's go back a few days, a weekend's worth of days. The setting is Friday March 13, 2020.

We have all been watching the news, the ever spreading panic of the dreaded Covid-19. Toilet paper, cleaning products, and now groceries are becoming scarce. Pictures emerge of the craziness in each of the stores Around The Nation, sorry, the World.

It's bad

Most people will agree on that, but I am not here to debate how bad or over-hyped. I am here to share my daily struggles as I begin to deal with a temporary new normal.

On that normal Friday, kids are home and I am pretending the news is not blowing up with which state has cancelled school. I am pretending that I did not visit three stores only to find no toilet paper outside of the one package of 12 that I scored. I got my water, I got my food, but I did not buy stuff to feed my kids at home for an indefinite amount of time.

And FB blows up. Denial. It does not work. Emails rolling in. We Have NO SCHOOL. NONE for three weeks! THREE WEEKS! And just like that I become the home school mom I never wanted to be. The schools will send lessons home via the internet.

I slowly begin to freak out. Ever so slowly.

By Sunday reality is sinking in. I want to cry. I want to scream. I really want my husband to hug me and tell me it is a horrible dream. He does not do that. Instead he tells me to get a grip. Well not like that, more gently, but still.

I have been blessed with an amazing teacher for my second grader. She agreed to meet us on the military installation that we live on and (kids go to school on) and bring the lessons. She went all out. So organized and laminated work guides. I mean as I stood there listening to her explain what we were looking out I felt the fear sink in. I knew in that moment that I am not cut out for this next adventure.

My Amazing husband helped me work out schedules for the kids. They are realistic. They are within my range of capabilities.

Christmas Spirit

Through the PTO I found my Christmas Spirit. I spent much of November and December at the Intermediate School and the Elementary schools that my kids attend.

I watched the kids, the teachers, fellow volunteer moms come in smiling and wearing their Christmas gear. Slowly my mind, then my heart opened up to the idea of actually enjoying Christmas.

This was amazing for me. Previous years I had struggled to muddle through the holiday season. The baking a chore, the decorating pure torture. But this year was different. I wanted to participate. I wanted to dress the part.

I admit, it took a little convincing for me to get my Christmas Tree up before Thanksgiving. And I did, the Monday before we left to travel home for the holiday. I pulled it out of the box only after setting my playlist to Christmas songs. I was in my zone. Then momentary tragedy struck as I was unable to figure out how to get my pre-lit tree to light up. Over an hour later when I am near to tears and ranting on fb, my husband comes home. For him it had been a long day, but still he pulled that tree apart studying each part, and looking over the box. Finally he asks me where the rest of the lights were and through that patience, we figured out that the lights were indeed there, just in the other box.

The next day I began again, a fresh start, well intent on success through my playlist. My kids were eager to join in and we made it happen.

I was quite impressed with my tree. I was actually happy with it. Something I did not feel in 2017 or 2018. Two years! It had really been 2 years since I was happy with my Christmas tree.

As the weeks passed by, I would just sit and stare at my tree and feel tranquil. I even bought a Christmas T shirt, a first for me in a long time. I added a few new ornaments and decorations to my collection.

Now that it is time to roll into the new year, I am ready. My ornaments are all packed away. I organized them according to color. I took great care to pack them up well. While doing this, I realized that this was the first year in awhile that I actually cared how they were packed up. My wonderful husband even agreed to let me buy a second tree, and finally I will have my long dreamed of white Christmas tree. I even purchased four sets of brand new shatter proof ornaments. I find myself ready for the new year, and ready to decorate my two trees.

I have also discovered a new passion of collecting red birds. My husband even commented on this odd new obsession when we at the local big box store and I am trying to hurriedly scan two red bird ornaments that were not on the grocery list. I am sure this is due to my own mother's love of ceramic red birds and my desire to keep her memory close as the years roll on without her.

Happy New Year Everyone!

in memory of Carol L Smithson Rhodes (my dearly departed mom)

Wasted Day

Bright sunshine filtering through closed blinds

The hour is not so early and the mood not so bleak

Climbing out of the bed, leaving the other to stare at a phone

Breakfast cooked first for kids, and still he is a no show.

Checking in, cutting hair, be there soon

The chosen playlist was not a good one,
 not one for cheer but rather introspect.

Early January is not the time to let the flood gate of memories open

This will invite past regrets, words unspoken, broken pride, and self destruction

For always there has been a dark side, pushing against the light that insists in shining

The demons of hell forever baying in the distance, they are waiting for me, and one day they will take me as my resistance to them only weakens with time

I lost her.

I nor her tried harder to mend broken hearts and speak unspoken words.

An uneasy truce based on forgiveness had slowly grown when she left my sister and I behind. I was trying to find a way to reach her. To find the occasional happiness we once shared.

I know I didn't try hard enough to bridge the gap, or attempt to repair that which was broken

And now here I am

Unhappy and bristling at every word spoken by my spouse

I hear only criticism. Maybe his words aren't so harsh as they seem

Today I felt as if I was a big assed bird as my mother used to call me.

I also felt the urge to smash everything that I touched. I wanted to burn everyone around me with words of fire fueled by anger.

I wanted to throw away the plants I love, forget the essential oils I depend upon for calm. Needless to say today they were not sought for the calm

I managed to sour a husbands mood, frighten kids and a dog and still I wanted to destroy everything in my path.

I said all that I did not mean

I rage cleaned.

And that Christmas tree came down. Not as gently as it probably should have, but my sweet daughter intervened and through her questions and commentary I momentarily calmed.

That tree was a sore point for me. I loved looking at it's full branches, seeking out those that belonged to her. The twinkling lights. But time moves forward and Christmas is past as is New Years. And so we move ever so quickly to the anniversary of her passing, which happens to coincide with the time I drop my son off at a 5 month school.

My heart is twisting in grief for her and worry for him. Regret for both and the inability to grasp the good for the churning of the emotions. I am lost without support from the one I share a bed with. According to him I have no reason to be depressed, which I am, or have anxiety.

I listen to him speak and at times it is like nails upon a chalkboard. I know he means well. I know that I would be lost without him. His steady calming presence most of the time. But I think my wild emotions and blazing moments of rage either confuse or scare him, but more likely annoy the hell out of him.

When I look in the mirror I see a body going soft and a weary looking face. Some days are good and I feel like I am a force to be reckoned with, but lately all that I hear is my mother's call "you ain't nothing but a big assed bird" Why am I hearing this over and over? And while I am struggling with the voice ringing in my ears, I hear the call to the kitchen. I often loath the role of a cook, but cook I must and I think on this day I did it, but not well. At least it was better than the burned tacos the night before.

I am so very lost. I want to be there for my son, yet that isn't as much of an option since my spouse and him don't always get along. I try to be a mediator, but it leaves me exhausted. I cannot always be everyone's champion.

A very long walk today after cleaning the house and taking down the Christmas Tree. I envisioned walking away. I had not phone nor ID on me. I could just vanish. That seemed like such a great option. Instead I forced myself to just walk to attempt to walk away the rage. It didn't help much.

Back at home I fell asleep sitting up on the couch. At 6pm I spoke to my husband for the first time in three hours. I am lucky he offered an olive branch. I think by morning all will be well, I hope so anyway.

Be still my wild emotions, give me calm and let there be peace in this house that I tried so hard to destroy today.


January 5, 2019 11:04pm EST

Christmas Wish

Wasted

Time is gone

Forever wasted on silence

empty words formed inside of the mind and never spoken

Not trying hard enough to bridge the gap

Or to mend the wounds

Fear hurt buried anger

And then it was OVER

DONE

Without a chance to properly say goodbye

Without a last hug or grasping of the hand

I was not there

I did not see

I did not get CLOSURE

Hurt

Lost

Confused

Struggling at times to come to terms with what 41 years meant to her and now to me without her

I have so much I want to tell her

Yet I cannot

DEATH IS FINAL

it really is

I look at her ornaments on my tree

I see her decorations sitting out on her entertainment center and bookshelf

I no longer want to sit in her chair

I long to cry

But the tears will not come

I miss her

I do not know why as my husband likes to point out that we were not close

I want her to see my kids to know my oldest is being a brat but doing well

I would love to go back in time

To make her more of a priority than I did

To forgive sooner To love more

Last year with in laws in and a ball and perceived chaos I pushed her to the back burner. I did get her the picture she asked for, but when it came to her Christmas present I was extremely late. She never saw it. The gift did arrive at her house, but it was too late for her and for me to get the closure I so desperately need. She is GONE

Now I am a lost daughter without a mother who continues to get even more lost because I do not have her there. I guess somewhere along the way the idea of her being gone never truly crossed my mind, not until it was too late.

ONE YEAR

It goes so fast yet so slow

I am sorry Mom for being the not so great daughter who could have tried harder, yet did not


December 16,2018

Dedicated to my Mom Carol Smithson

The Point of Change

Delighted that finally he would be in my home.

Hopeful that catching up would be a possibility.

Ready to help him achieve any dreams he may want to chase.

On July 16 2018, reality came to my house.

The skies began to cloud over as I knew surely change was coming to our peaceful oblivion.

Two weeks it was not so bad. The tension was sending down roots in order to withstand the onslaught.

And then it began.

Hell was unleashed upon my youngest and myself.

We watched as my oldest turned into a being that we did not know.

Anger and resentment, could that also be hate, oozed from his entire being.

We could do nothing right. There were no smiles for us.

The words were not soothing. They were meant to provoke.

All that I suggested was torn down as a stupid idea. Too complicated. Too much work.

Yelling that yes he is stupid, just like his Dad.

For sure that all hope for him was lost even as I pleaded for him to listen, to try.

Husband and middle child returning did little to subdue the darkness that was beginning to envelop us.

There was no calm unless the oldest was absent.

My heart was crumbling. My husband was trying to be there for my oldest, for me.

We all felt the heaviness, the negative feelings put out by my oldest.

I tried to fix what was long ago broken, but it is true, what has smashed cannot be put back together without flaws.

I thought my love would be enough, but it was not nearly enough.

And then one day we found out that there was a possibility.

We began to work toward that possibility. And a slight glimmer of hope emerged.

As the information came in the reality formed that the oldest would have to return to the South.

Then one day he did migrate South.

The heaviness and the darkness were gone.

It took the rest of us an entire weekend to recover. To come back close to the normal we once had. But the old normal was gone, replaced by this new strangeness. The knowledge that my oldest was determined to break me and I would have to choose if this was going to happen.

To be continued.....

November 19, 2018

Settling In

Recently I moved.

The weeks leading up to the move were challenging for me. I packed all of my mother's knick knacks along with my Grandmother's carnival glass into a plastic tote. When my Dad came to visit I sent them back with him. I was happy to know that these belongings would safely make the move.

All during the chaos of saying "see ya laters" watching my oldest son prepare to move out of my home, and getting things ready, I wanted to call my mom.

Some days the urge was so strong I had to fight it off. I wanted to drink, but I knew that would solve nothing. I wanted to cry, but really scream at the sky. I made it through most of the year without the urge to call her. Now in the midst of it all I felt her loss.

I retrieved my plastic tote, brought it into my new home and placed it in a safe space.

Once arriving, once my furniture arrived, I felt worse.

Two pieces of my mom's furniture were damaged. Thankfully not beyond repair. But I felt sucker punched. I wanted to scream at the unloading team. I wanted to make them understand that this wasn't just a shelf or entertainment center. This was my mother's. My mother who took such good care of them, and then I get them and they break. Throughout the remainder of the day I felt the tears threating to fall. I felt as if the wind had been knocked out of me.

My wonderful husband was able to drill the legs back onto the entertainment center. The shelf has a crack, it won't survive another move, but for now it works.

Once the entire house was set up, I pulled my plastic bin out of it's safe place.

I sat in the floor and unwrapped each piece one by one.

Behind me I could feel my mother. I could feel her looking on, observing, waiting.

I set up her shelf with most of my books.

Then with great care I set up her knick knacks. Each time I look into the entry way and see the shelf, I can feel her approval. I know she would be pleased with at least this one thing.

All the other things that I need to tell her, well, I'm not sure how that will work out. I feel lost. I know the holidays are upon us. I know that she won't be there to call. I will push past the urge to eat my feelings. To sit in her recliner and watch sad Christmas movies while I eat my favorite ice cream a pint at a time.

All will be well in due time

November 7 2018

Confessions from an OCD Military Spouse

All Seasoned spouses know that moving is inevitable. The success of that move is only partially up to us. As a Spouse, I have moved several times during my Husband's nearly eight year career. In a nutshell it went like this.

Move number one was from Tennessee to El Paso Texas. We fitted our tiny Saturn to haul the smallest UHaul trailer. This went well and over all I would chalk it up to success. Move number two was merely eight months later back to Tennessee due to an upcoming deployment, new baby, baby with medical needs. This move was a little more adventurous to include my MIL, new baby, and 3 year old. The car was packed to overflowing, this included the cargo attachment and the car bag on the roof. One year later I move back to El Paso. This was another smaller adventure.

For two years I stayed in El Paso until the Husband got orders to go overseas without us. And guess what? We did a fully DITY move back to Tennessee. This move was not a good one in my book. We had a 26ft Budget truck with a trailer to haul our Saturn. This truck and our car were full to overflowing. The minivan had room for the two kids and one passenger upfront. We were stressed to the max and we had the hubby's mom and dad along to help us out. Getting everything loaded was the easy part. I ended up leaving behind one of my favorite plants because my husband didn't feel like there was room. My FIL made room in the floor board of the Saturn for my other plants. We got a late start and the husband and I were already not getting along. By the end of the first evening, it was strictly no talking. The trailer we were pulling had a flat tire and hubby pushed on to the next exit rather than stopping. It took hours and hours to get a technician out to our location to replace the tire. This was also when things started going south for us. We were arguing over the process, over the pros and cons of repairing the flat tire ourselves. We were stuck on the side of the road in a not so great place. We were all tired. The kids wanted to run and play. It was dark. So after a lot of arguing the kids and I went up one exit to find a not so great hotel and then hubby and his mom and dad came later. I barely slept, did not eat or even drink water. The next day slowly improved.

Would I recommend a DITY move to someone else? Yes. It isn't that bad. The key is communication and organization. We at least had organization. I had begun the packing process 2 months prior to our move. The only damages we had was a broken lid to a pan we barely used. Not bad odds. It was not a positive highlight for our marriage. This did lead us into a not so great year of living apart, another move, and another rotation before we got things fully back into the good.

After our year in Tennessee we did a partial DITY from Tennessee to Northern New York. This was not overall a bad move. Our van was full to the point that opening the doors meant stuff could fall out. I moved 9 house plants successfully. I only had two of those original 9 die after arriving in NNY. The drive was not so bad. Arriving was easy as we had a house waiting for us. A quick stop at Walmart to get a few essentials and we were good to go.

This time we are moving from NNY to KY after a two year stay in NNY. I am equal parts sad and excited. I attempted to approach this move with calm. I was reading horror stories of military moves gone wrong. When receiving our household goods two years ago, we had minor damage. Mostly scratches. I began walking through my house trying to decide what I could do to make my move go more smoothly. I began with acquiring as many plastic totes as I could. I pulled my Grandmother's Vintage Glassware out of my cupboards, all my inherited knick knacks from my mom. I packed an entire tote with these items and when my Dad came for a fall visit, I sent the tote home with him. Thankfully he is only a few hours away from our destination. I began to get antsy in August even though I knew the move was not until October. I kept telling myself that the kids needed to be in school before I did anything. It was excruciatingly hard to not pack.

September rolled around and pictures started coming off of the walls. I dedicated a closet and the front entry way to all things picture related or knick knacks. My next step was to pull every tote out of every closet and put them all in one central location away from anything that could possibly be crammed into them. Next I began bagging up all linens and my kids stuffed animals. This way the packers could place them into boxes. All of these bags are upstairs. My husband said that I have now made their job easy. I have cleaned my kitchen out to the bare minimum for the packers to take. I have designated safe areas clearly labeled not to be packed. My husband drained all gas powered machinery and the washer. All my liquids are in designated no pack areas. I made sure all favorite kids toys are in safe no pack areas. We are ready.

Next I will share pictures of how I organized my house. I have zip lock bags labeled for each bed in the house and for my kitchen table.

All knick knacks from the house

All blankets, towels, and miscellaneous clothes were bagged thisway

Closet designated for pictures

Lower portion of pictures in the closet

 

Kitchen Island designated as a no pack zone

 

This was the beginning of my plastic tote area

This was the final day before the packers arrived

All my beautiful house plants and dog kennel

The messy garage


My advice for all who are moving find the way that works best for you. Find time to relax in between the chaos.



Bonnie Manjarrez
Oct 16 2018