Tag Archives: humour

Fires, Hoarding, and Art – A Story About Chef’s Art

Posted on by Standard 53

Today, I had to ask myself if I’m a bad person. Maybe.

Lately, with a few exceptions here and there, I’ve started to find the whole last year of my life less tragic and more funny. Is that

This is Chef's Art.

This is Chef’s Art.

weird? I’ve always believed that the opposite of love wasn’t hate, but indifference, and I think I’ve finally moved into that realm of thinking. And now, as I skim through my diaries from the last year, I’m finding things that were really traumatic and painful at the time, somewhat funny now. For instance, Chef was trying to turn into this hoarder kind of guy, and I was constantly battling him about putting his “art” around the house. There is no way to describe this stuff other than to say, wow. That is a lot of trash you glued together, buddy. I didn’t say that, of course. I didn’t want to hurt his feelings, but whatever that drug did to him, it didn’t make him artistic. His “projects” would disappear the minute he left the house. I couldn’t stand it.

Chef spent many an hour cutting extension cords and splicing random pieces of it together to make this odd, multi-colored, extra-long extension cord guaranteed to burn down the house with all of us in it. Those, too, would magically disappear when he left because I wasn’t quite ready to die. What amazes me even more is that I found none of this funny at the time, yet I’m sitting here laughing my butt off now.

Either it is really funny, or I’ve finally lost my mind. :-)

The last time I was at his house, I finally told him that his house looks like hell. It is covered in his “art” now, and it looks just terrible. Even the dogs agreed with me, sitting on the couch with depressed looks on their faces. I could tell they were wondering why they were suddenly surrounded by the city dump. He was, of course, offended, and told me that I wouldn’t recognize good “art” if it hit me in the face. I picked up this broken vase that he had glued to some kind of rusted coffee can with holes punched into it, and a little decorative light installed inside. I noticed that the cord to the light had been spliced together with a brown cord and a white one.

“Really?” I asked him, pointing to the coffee can.

“You just don’t understand art. You see trash. I see art,” he said, defensively.

“I see a fire and potentially a spot on that show about Hoarders in your future,” I told him.

“Well, T likes it. She thinks I have a lot of talent,” he quipped.

“She also thinks you’re sober, handsome,  and just misunderstood. I’d get a second opinion if I were you, ” I told him, smarting a little from his mention of the other woman.

He made me leave.

I’m sorry, but I find this stuff hilarious now. Am I losing my mind?

– Bird

 

To My Baby Daughter, Caitlyn, On Her Birthday

Posted on by Standard 32

Today is my youngest child’s 21st birthday. Caitlyn is in the United States Air Force serving in Japan, so I’m missing one of her

Caitlyn — My precious baby daughter

milestones, and it bums me out to no end. But, thank God we have the kind of technology that allows me to converse with her without waiting weeks and weeks for snail mail.

I have often said that being a mother was my favorite job ever. All three of my kids are very different, presenting with strengths and weaknesses that I dealt with in each individually. But hands down, Caitlyn was just the easiest kid ever. Even her birthday is the easiest ever to remember — July 1.

From the minute she was born, it was clear that Caitie was no whiner. In fact, as I lied in pose on the delivery table, waiting to hear her cry, she had to be smacked on the butt twice before she let out a newborn wail, and it was over within seconds. Evidently, she was in agreement that her time had come. No wanting back in the womb for that kid. The world presented her with opportunities, and she wanted to seize every one of them.

When I got her home, she had two toddler siblings that required a lot of Mom‘s attention to compete with, yet she was always patient. She slept 6 hours in a row at night from day one. Of course, this was unnerving for me, so instead of capitalizing on the sleep time, I spent time hovering around her making sure she was breathing.

My eldest child was moody and stubborn, having to actually be taught how to have a sense of humor, and my second child skipped crawling altogether and launched into walking and then escaping from home in the wee hours of the morning, but Caitie completed every milestone a baby is supposed to accomplish normally and without causing my eyes to bleed. She learned to crawl and then walk by nine months, spoke words on time, and was so laid back I could literally take her anywhere with me without worry. She was, and is, a huge blessing to her tired mom.

Of all my kids, Caitie has been the one that has the most characteristics I recognize in myself. She has a hard time giving up; she is passionate about succeeding at whatever she sets her hand to do; she likes people in general; she strives to protect the weak, and isn’t afraid to stand up for what is right, even if she is the only one standing. She even has the angry streak that I’ve worked hard to control in myself all these years, and already, she maintains self-control better than I do.

What Caitie possesses, though, that I don’t is a comfortable acceptance of herself. She likes who she is, and feels no need to explain

why. I’ve not met anyone yet who doesn’t instantly fall in love with this girl, and that list includes me. The minute I looked into the eyes of that baby with the old soul, I was hooked forever.

I have a lot of funny stories about Bekkie and Dj, but not so many about Caitie. It isn’t because she was not fun or wasn’t silly, or that I wasn’t paying attention. And she makes me laugh until I pee myself on a regular basis.  It is because she was always smart about most of her decisions. She didn’t get roped into a lot of stupid stuff, and was not in the least influenced by peer pressure, whether at school or at home. She approached Bekkie and Dj’s teen angst with the same practical nature I did. She had no use for it. But don’t be fooled. She is gifted at bringing laughter into a room, and to be loved by Caitie is to be loved by the best this world has to offer.

Dearest Caitlyn,

I miss you so very much, my heart feels like it will break if I don’t hug and kiss that little face soon. It has been a hard year for your dad and me, but one thing that has never waivered…we both love you with all of our hearts. I think God had you safely tucked away in Japan while we went through this because your heart would have been in as much danger as mine had you been here to witness the attacks satan has launched. You are a fixer, like me, and it would have been torture for you to stay out of it.

But, like you, I’m a tough nut to crack, and all of this will sort itself out in the end. I already see some cracks of sunlight in the situation. Please focus on getting physically healthy. I honestly think that you have anemia like me, but I am glad they are being extensive about diagnosing what is going on with your blood. In the meantime, be sure to eat healthy and take the vitamins they prescribe. And don’t drink a lot. Booze zaps your body of vitamins and makes you blog stupid stuff.   :-)

I am so blessed God gave you to me!!!

I hope you have a wonderful birthday, and at least we are only a few short months off from you coming home to see your family.

I LOVE YOU!!

Always,

Mom

Does Anyone Know Who Mrs Sparkly Is? And Why Is She Giving Me This Award?

Posted on by Standard 24

My friend Anne at My Life Uncut…Almost has awarded me the Mrs. Sparkly’s Ten Commandments Award.

I seriously have no idea what it is given for. Knowing the ten commandments? Maybe mastering all ten of them? Or does Mrs. Sparkly have her own set of ten commandments? This award just opens up so many unanswered questions for me!

I have no idea what I did to earn it, but I do truly thank Anne for thinking of me and my little site, and passing the honor over to me.

Now, unlike some of the other blog shout-outs, this award has some hard-fast, unflinchingly rigid rules…Proper acceptance and compliance are demanded; disobedience to said rules will go on a report that will follow you around for the rest of your life!!

Ha, ha..I’m just kidding about the hard-fast rules…There are rules, and as usual, I view them as things that beg to be broken.

RULES:
The rules for this award are that you must answer the following ten questions and nominate ten blogs that you think deserve the award.

1. Describe yourself in seven words.
stubborn, determined, hyper-vigilant, introverted, passionate, loyal, and afraid of too much silence

2. What keeps you up at night?
Severe Insomnia

3. Whom would you like to be?
I just want to be myself. My guess is that everyone has a story, good and bad, and I don’t know how I would function in someone else’s complicated life..

4. What are you wearing now?
My fuzzy pajama bottoms that look like Walt Disney threw up on them and then drew the word “Love” over and over again with his finger, and a soft white t-shirt. I’d like to note: It is 3am in the morning right now, which is why I’m dressed for bed.

5. What scares you?
Something happening to my children or my husband.

6. What are the best and worst things about blogging?

The best thing about blogging for me is that I am able to develop friendships with people all over the world, and through their blogs, I get all sorts of glimpses into other people’s thoughts, feelings, opinions, families…you name it.

The worst is keeping up with the many, many blogs. I can fairly keep up if I devote a full workday to it, but it also means I can’t really stop and comment on every post like I used to. I think the commenting is really, really important when you are trying to make new friends.

7. What was the last website you looked at?
http://www.hotmail.com

8. If you could change one thing about yourself what would it be?
I wouldn’t struggle with trust.

9. Slankets, yes or no?
Slankets are called Snuggies here, and I’m going to have to say no. I would have said yes until recently, but now I’m getting hot flashes occasionally, and I need to be able to shed clothes quickly and efficiently …Snuggies don’t seem to be Hot Flash Friendly.

10. Tell us something about the person who nominated you.

Anne at My Life Uncut…Almost writes about a variety of subjects, and also composes poetry, and is an amateur photographer. She is a mature Christian woman, and is always ready to give an answer for our Lord. She is straightforward and honest, but yet gentle and patient…even to people who love to show up at her blog address merely to rock her boat. Oh, and she has a lovely smile! :-)  Thank you, Anne, for this pretty award.

Nominations for Mrs. Sparkly’s Ten Commandments Award:

1. Summer @ Inspire Hope

2. Melody @ The Donkey Whisperer Farm 2010 - How cool is the name of her blog?

Thanks, again, Anne. And thanks to all of you who keep coming back here! I feel pretty honored to meet all of you…  :-)

– Bird

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Bird’s Spiritual Learning Disability — God Grades Her on a Curve

Posted on by Standard 35

I have occasionally mentioned in previous posts that as a young woman, I struggled with controlling my temper. Now,

Chef seems to think my ability to be right so often and completely in my own mind is a flaw…I think he is wrong. ;)

I’ve never been the kind of girl who would physically throw down on someone;  instead, I had a snarky mouth, talented in the art of sarcasm,  and a true gift for honing in on the one thing about a person that they truly struggled with themselves about. I don’t say this with any pride at all, and I got God-Smacked upside my head many, many, many times before I was able to truly take a second and filter what came out of my mouth even a fraction of the time.

The level of control, or actually, the lack of it, and degree of snarky-ness was always in direct relation to the amount of hurt or embarrassment these people would inflict on me and how defensive they had made me feel. I can truly say, this sort of reaction from me was just that… a reaction. I almost never attack first and have rarely been unprovoked.

As I’ve matured both in age and spirituality, I can say that this knee-jerk, angry reaction rarely happens anymore with the exception of when something scares me. Ask my kids…they know from first hand experience!

I would have been comfortable saying a few months ago that I had succeeded in controlling my big mouth for the most part, and struck that little lesson as “done” off my mental list of character flaws that needed work.

And of course, Chef decided right about then to launch into a full-blown midlife crisis at the very same moment, and I suddenly felt all the stability, security, and trust of two decades shift a bit to the left of what I was comfortable with…And that was pretty scary to me. Fear begets anger in me.  And, instantly, I felt myself reverting back to the old defense mechanism of using mean, snarky, sarcastic humor to attack and thus deflect from something I didn’t want to address or make the opposing argument seem stupid, irrelevant, or just plain wrong. So much for mastering that lesson.  Put to a real test, it became very clear just how much more work I really needed to do controlling my temper and my mouth.

I have NO character flaws checked off that stupid mental list!! None.

Now, before everyone gets all defensive of the Chef, let me assure you…I can hold my own in Snark Wars, but Chef is the reining King of Snark in this household. He has even less of a filter than I ever did, and he’s twice as funny. When we first got together, I was considerably quieter than I am these days, and when he would occasionally lose his temper using that kind of blunt, but hilarious, humor, I couldn’t help reacting angrily…and laughing at the same time. They don’t comfortable mix well when pouring out of your mouth at the same time.

Over twenty something years, most of Chef and my battles have ended with one or both of us cracking up. It would break up the tension of the moment, and it always made communication calmer and less emotionally charged. We never would have guessed how that dynamic would really work for us. A completely accidental, but highly valued marital tool for us…

Well, I’m in new territory these days with a crisis that I can’t fully understand, and frankly, most of this midlife-man stuff going on I find completely appalling and very un-funny. Add to these stressful points, God’s directives to me personally about my role in Chef’s War Against Time, or actually lack of a role, has thrown me in a quandary of confusion about where my personality ends and my godly spirit begins.  I’ve had to learn some new ways to handle the stress that keeps popping up causing me to just spill my juicebox and snark all over the man!!

It is with true sincerity that I say, I’m really, really trying. I took God’s message to heart, and I am not fool enough to ignore that very clear direction. On the flip side of that, I’ve had a somewhat controlled mouth for a long time now but I also haven’t had this level of stress to contend with on an almost daily basis since my children were babies.  Every day, I’m kind of surprised how quickly I am able to revert back to that scared, defensive young girl one minute only to pendulum back to the sane woman I eventually became. Lol…I am making myself dizzy..and Chef is just completely confused all the way around.

After months of advice, some internet counseling, lots of prayer, and some dashes of uncontrolled anger, venting blog posts,  and repentance prayers just to keep everything real,  I realized that I was beginning to look like an escaped mental patient with severe constipation. I was physically trying to hold in the initial reactions to some pretty crappy things, while at the same time looking like a gentle, respectful, and peaceful wife in order to show Chef the love of God and the respect I was ordered to show him. And, as it tends to happen for me, the whole thing  just fell apart quickly and completely.

Simply put, I’ve been  just too blunt and honest with my Chef for decades to try to fool him with this insincere, fake-it-till-you-make-it attitude now.

One morning, as he was getting dressed for work, and mildly annoying me already at 4:00am in the morning, I locked my “Peaceful, Respectful and Gentle” mask in place and let the irritating remarks slide down my back, like nails on a blasted chalk board. 

Pausing as he was tucking in his shirt, he looked right in my eyes and asked, “What is wrong with you lately? What is this weird look you keep giving me?”

Taking my opportunity to show him just exactly how I was sacrificing for the success of our relationship despite his ungrateful and somewhat unenthusiastic participation, (if you asked me, which no one ever really does  :)  ), I told him I was trying to be a godly wife, peaceful, gentle, and respectful, and that I thought the whole lesson was going to cause me to have a fatal aneurysm, and probably pretty soon. “And then you’ll be sorry!” I informed him.

” Well, could you stop it? You’re creeping me out! You are the worst actress I’ve ever seen in my entire life. No wonder you were the only kid in sixth grade that didn’t get a part in the Christmas play!” He practically bellowed so loud my dogs jumped in my lap for protection… Nice that he remembered me telling him that story a million four hundred years ago. But, I did crack up, because yes, that is a true story.  :) And once I started laughing, he did, too, and the tension was dispelled.

After he left, I had to agree that this almost month-long effort to be some kind of biblical-looking wife was a bust. Now what? I decided to take the day off from being anything different than I’ve always ever been. I needed time to map out a new plan.

Later that evening, we came back to the subject, and he pointed out that those qualities- peaceful, respectful, gentle —  probably couldn’t be faked, especially by me…I would actually have to become peaceful with the situation, respectful of Chef for real, and in turn, this would help me deal gently with him, instead of stabbing him with sarcastic, angry words when I felt like he was being insensitive or careless about all the things I treasure the most in this world.

I hate it when he’s so obviously right about something that I completely missed the boat on. He has a way sometimes of teaching me some really basic, somewhat obvious biblical principles, and yet he is a really baby Christian. He was right though, and as things have gone on, each day, I actually do become less emotionally reactive, and more peaceful, learning to just trust God and stop trying to fix everything, silently.  Lol..I could write a whole post on what a woman can do with silence.  And as for respectful, I came to the decision after much soul-searching and several conversations with Chef. And with his agreement, we agree that respect isn’t an area we ever have struggled with to any great degree. I have mad, crazy respect for Chef, even when I’m annoyed by him. And lately, I’ve noticed that I’ve been able to actually pull off some gentle responses, and they weren’t fake or insincere at all. Go figure. I still blow it sometimes, but I think I’m on the right track now, and I see some progress…albeit tiny.

For the times that I know that if I don’t get my angry thoughts out of my hyper-vigilant brain, I’ll just explode, I’ve taken to writing out my sarcastic, snarky, bitter, angry, or just plain rude remarks in my journal. I think it was actually God who pointed me in that direction knowing that I’d blow a fuse if I didn’t have some way to get some of that pressure building in my soul out. Plus, it also reminded me yet again that He is a patient Father, and He understands me and my struggles in a very personal way. He never expected me to be insincere or fake…He uses the very unique set of traits that He specifically gives to each and every one of His children in such a way, His good will is accomplished through their own set of flaws and strengths, if we surrender ourselves to Him. And He’s patient with those of us like me who tend to ride the spiritual short bus sometimes when putting what we think He wants in action without really understanding quite what we are doing first.

An unexpected result of this habit,though, is that  I have to admit, I wish I’d started this little exercise the day I could string together some words to create a whole sentence, because turns out, when I’m writing out my retorts, I’m way more witty and clever than when my mouth just opens and my brain throws up. I was looking through it this morning, and I have A LOT of rants in this thing, and I actually started snorting while laughing when I read some of them. I was pretty wound up!!!  After this trial is completely over, I’m going to show them to Chef….he’ll get a kick out of some of them.

I’m thinking I might have a book in me after all!  A few more weeks dealing with the Midlife Crisis, and the book will be finished!!  :)

–Bird

A Story for Mother’s Day — Meet Chef’s Mom

Posted on by Standard 15

One of the oddest things I’ve found about my husband, Chef, is his mother. No, this woman is easily the best mother I’ve ever seen, but after hearing the multitude of stories about things that she has endured at Chef’s hands as a child, I wonder how she survived raising him. I think I would have lost my mind sometime around Chef’s high school graduation. Added to these facts is that while Chef has a ton of qualities he obviously inherited from his mother, they don’t share the same sense of humor at all. Sue tends to be straight-laced and serious. She’s elegant, classy, and super intelligent. And every time she and Chef interact with one another, she always seems to be just a little bit confused by Chef’s sense of humor…Frankly, it is somewhat hilarious to watch.

One of my favorite stories is the time that Sue, Chef’s mom, drove Chef, his younger brother Anthony, and baby sisters Marie and Layla from San Antonio, Texas to Altus, Oklahoma to attend the graduation of a friend from a college there. Chef was about 8 years old at the time, and was already gaining a reputation in the family for being precocious and mischievous.

Staying at an affordable motel, the weekend had gone blessedly well, and the little family was packing up the car in the wee hours of the morning to head back home. Sue, unaware of what she was unleashing, had mentioned a couple of times that the clutch on her car was so tight and hard to push in, that her leg was getting tired, and Chef had decided that he would help her out. While everyone else was busy with packing preparations and breakfast chaos, Chef slipped silently out, and getting some pliers from the tool box in Sue’s trunk, he wiggled his little body underneath their car, and set about loosening the clutch so his mom would be able to drive the long miles ahead in comfort.

Chef’s Uncle Joe had always included him and his brother Anthony in the general masculine chores that had to be performed in the household, so Chef was able to locate the clutch mechanisms with ease, and he set about to quickly adjust the bolt, his heart pounding with the excitement, knowing his mother was going to truly love his gift to her. It took only a minute, and Chef quickly returned the pliers to the tool box and joined his family while they hastily packed up the car, and climbed in.

Sue, after settling everyone in their places, inserted the key, and pushed down the clutch….Thunk!! The clutch easily responded to the pressure of her foot…and then stayed there, lacking the strength to return to its original position.

Chef tells me that the thunking sound of the clutch matched the thunking sound his heart made in his chest when his mother exclaimed, “What the…??!!”

Chef, looking to insure that his innocence not be questioned, asked, in a rather guilty voice, “What did you do???”

Getting out of the car, Sue was at a complete loss to even begin to know where to look, and finally broke down and called the auto club she subscribed to.

Hours later, the mechanic arrived and within minutes, the problem had been located and fixed.

In a somewhat accusing tone, the mechanic insinuated to Sue that being a woman, she’d obviously been trying to adjust her own clutch, and should leave the fixing of her car to the men in the world.  It was the 1960′s, and such masculine opinions weren’t only acceptable, but predominant in the world at the time. Sue endured the mechanic’s snide insinuations, bold accusation, and general snarkyness, then thanked him for fixing the problem, and the delayed trip was once more in motion.

Driving down the road, Chef, thinking he may have just scraped by this one undetected, casually asked his mom what she thought had happened.

“You happened, son. But I’m not going to be mad at you because you were trying to help me out. But next time, don’t work on my car, okay?”

Chef has a really cool mom, wouldn’t you agree?

– Bird