On Life as a "Bonus Mom"

Been a while since I wrote a bit on here. Long story short, I left that job where I had to constantly stifle my inner Scout Finch, I let go of some old ties/obligations that were no longer serving me well...

and I married my "Yes Man" on June 25, 2011... you'll remember him from some previous posts.

And I became a stepmom to two crazy, loving, and sometimes VERY independent-thinking kids. Well, I became a "Bonus Mom," rather. That's what Ellie Russo called it... and it had a nice ring to it. So I decided to use that title from here on out. Thanks, Ellie.

It's kinda weird... I've been down this road before. Unfortunately, I never was quite able to make a connection with my former stepdaughter. Poor kid - she was always caught in the middle of trying to please both parents... and although it hurt, I couldn't help but understand to some degree what she was going through in her young life.

But this time, it's feeling right. I'll be the first to say I really feel terrified at times that I'm going to screw it up... but I look to John (their dad and my biggest encourager) for reassurance, and I feel a little better.

It seems that just when I start to think I'm losing my pace...I am set back on track by a little nine-year-old "squeeze hug" that happens for no particular reason at all... or a sweet little wave from an eleven-year old boy (who at that age wouldn't be caught DEAD showing affection like that) that says, "You're okay with me, Leigh."

Ten Observations on a Weekend

This weekend, John and I traveled to Virginia Beach to see the wedding of my good friend, Denise. She married James, who seems the perfect match for her.

We were up at 3:30am and on the road by 4:15am... and I'll have to say this. Driving in the early hours of the morning is a great thing. With enough coffee, some good XM tunes and the right traveling companion, it's the way to go.

Observation #1: The Virginia Welcome Center is awesome. Nice, clean, and not scary at all. It must've been WAY early because hardly anyone had visited the ladies' room stalls.

Observation #2: Even the wildlife love the Virginia Welcome Center. As we were leaving, a group of about 5 deer were hanging out at the edge of the woods, just watching the trucks pull in and out of the lot. They were beautiful and seemed rather tame, too.

The wedding was held at First Landing State Park, located on the Chesapeake Bay. It was in the Native American tradition, and they did a "blanket ceremony" where after they were married, the mothers wrapped the couple up in a beautiful blanket they had created, symbolizing the "bringing together" of the two. They walked around and enfolded each of the guests in the blanket as a greeting and gesture of appreciation. Despite the freezing bayfront temps and hard winds, it was truly a beautiful moment.

Observation #3: Native American music is some of the most peaceful, yet energy-inspiring I've heard. Everyone could feel the energy there, and you could see heads bobbing all over the place.

Observation #4: You don't have to physically be related to someone to feel like family. That's how I feel with the Kelty family.

So, after the wedding, which was beautiful but also VERY windy and cold, we headed back to the hotel to rest... the 3:30am wake up call had finally taken its toll. We arrived at the Virginia Beach Resort and Conference Center to check into the room I had booked for us. It was a bayview room with a private balcony. Er... actually, it wasn't. Exhausted and dying for a nap on a nice comfortable bed, we opened the door and looked in complete horror at a room with a dark, suspect bedroom, stains on the carpets, a couch that was ripped and looked like, er, well, I won't say what it looked like had happened there... and NO BALCONY WHATSOEVER... there wasn't even a window you could open to hear the bay breezes... just a view of the upper level parking deck through uncleaned window glass. I wanted to cry and throw up at the same time...and I was thinking of what I was going to put on TripAdvisor, too.

Observation #5: I'm a wuss.

John saw that I was greatly troubled by the room, and he went down and complained. Shortly, we were given a key to another room... one of the best rooms they had, and according to the front desk clerk, one that was over twice the cost of our $89 room. I wasn't expecting much improvement, but we walked into a two-room SUITE with an expansive view, living room/kitchenette, and a private balcony. Things were looking up. I still wondered, though, why they'd allow such a horrible room to exist there... and I'm still looking at what I'm going to write on TripAdvisor.

Observation #6: John is my hero.

Observation #7: An afternoon nap is a wonderful thing. Helps to clear all the frustrations.

When faced with the decision of what to do for dinner when on vacation -- go out to some bar and grill or get Chinese takeout and a bottle of wine to consume while watching an incredible view of the Bay -- to me, it's a no-brainer. Heck, the wine was on special, too... just works out really nicely sometimes, doesn't it?

Observation #8: I love to talk with John about anything and everything.

Observation #9: Sometimes you can live vicariously through people you don't even know.

About midnight, my post-bottle-of-wine-induced nap was interrupted by screams and yells and laughing from the beachfront. I wiped the drool from my cheek and walked to the balcony to find about 7 or 8 college-aged kids dressed in bikinis and swim trunks, scurrying to jump in the waves. I watched in both amusement and total horror that they would brave 40-degree weather and blustery conditions to do this. Must've been the alcohol. I chuckled and went back to my couch. About 10 minutes later, it happened again. More screams of delight... so I walked back to the window. It seems they had recruited more friends to join in the fun. By the third run, I found myself wanting to lean over the balcony and cheer them on wildly... but I didn't want to wake the other hotel patrons. Damn. That sure would've been fun.

So, after the long day, the hotel fiasco, the great dinner in, and the front seat to the collegiate "polar plungefest," I found myself falling into the deepest sleep I'd had in a long time.

The extra hour was such a welcome gift, and we woke up to beautiful puffy clouds and blue skies. We packed our bags, headed to Bubba's for one of the best burgers I'd had in a long time, and then headed home.

Well, not without first stopping for a great photo to commemorate the weekend.

Observation #10: It's the simple things that are the best. Well, I suppose I'd have to throw in the occasional Bubba burger, too :)

(Don't) Pose for the Photographer...

Today, I was going through closets, trying to rid myself of more stuff. A good deal of that "stuff" was the remnant of about 16 years of my life that brought back memories... and some of them not so pleasant...

and then I saw it. My parents' wedding photo album. It'll be 50 years old next August 27... and it would have been their "golden" anniversary.

The album was in remarkable shape, despite its many trips from house to apartment to house again. The black and white photos taken in 1961 were amazingly well-preserved. So I stopped my task of cleaning to sit for a while and have a closer look. Something told me I needed to do that.

The clothing back in the early '60s looked so uncomfortable, yet so very stylish. Lots of shiny fabric and lace things. There was a picture of the guests going through the receiving line in the vestibule, and nearly every lady had on a pillbox hat. Guess they were all the rage at that time - at least they appeared to be in the little town of Denton, NC. Looking closer at the group, I almost didn't recognize my Pa-Paw, who you hardly ever caught smiling, much less doing so in a photo. He was almost beaming as he reached to shake someone's hand. It was a happy day.

I found a picture of my mom and dad, posing for their cake cutting picture. I could tell it was posed because mom didn't have on her engagement ring or wedding band. Must've taken these shots prior to the wedding ceremony.

Posing...? Hmmm. Not at all, really. It was unmistakable. The happiness radiated from their eyes. The way dad cradled mom's hand in his as they cut the cake. They way they both smiled, and the fact that, even though this was to be a "formal" pose, you could tell my mom wanted so badly to smash that cake right up dad's nose and laugh in that unforgettable way she always did.

I had gone through much of the past sixteen years of my life "posing." I tried to be the best girlfriend/wife/step-mom/friend/etc. I could be, but it just never felt quite right, no matter what I did. Look at my pictures over that time period, and you'd see a well-trained, perfectly-timed smile. Look deeper inside, though, and you'd find a lost, miserable soul who knew she was posing.

So as I sat there, almost meditating, something struck me. Wow. My parents were nineteen when they married. I was so far from being REMOTELY ready to think about marriage when I was that age. But they did it with a level of bravery, maturity, humor...and love...that was amazing. As their daughter, I was fortunate to see this "partnership" at work...and they made it work every day for almost 17 years until mom passed away at the age of 35.

The more I gazed at those photos, the more it became apparent to me that I have a combination of my mother's and father's smile, as well as the sparkle in their eyes. Definitely mom's quick-thinking sense of humor and mischievous nature. How do I know this? Because I've seen it in my own recent photos... and it's been noticed and remarked on by friends and people that I don't even know. Maybe it's because in that moment right before the flash, that finally, I look at where I am and who I'm with, and for that split second, I feel just like mom and dad did in that photo. Happy. Hopeful. In love.

I close the album and smile...without having to pose.

The Great Paper Chase...

Here it is 11:00pm. I promised myself I'd be crawled in bed by now. But no. I'm staring at piles and piles of crap. The last couple of years of my life on paper. It's overwhelming. I just want to open up the window, shove it out and hope a good strong wind blows it far away...and with it, all the memory of the sh*t I allowed myself to endure....and pay for. (Yeah, I know that ended with a preposition.) I just wish I'd wised up a little earlier... like almost TEN YEARS AGO???

Lessons learned are sometimes hard. Sometimes they stay with you longer than you'd like 'em to. They tug at your purse strings. They keep you from your dreams -- like The Boss said... "One step up and two steps back." I know... that which does not kill us... blah, blah, blah.

All I want to do right now is close my eyes and make a wish that when I wake up in the morning, my office is neatly organized. All these damn bills are GONE. The slate has been cleaned, and the door is wide open... I can start fresh. Where and how I want. I can take a dream job doing what I LOVE to do and not have to worry about how the salary cut will affect me. Oh, the possibilities.

Ouch. Damn paper cut brings me back to reality.

"What the Sam Hill are you doing???"

That's one of my favorite lines in "To Kill a Mockingbird." Even though she sometimes spoke before she "thunk," Scout Finch always seemed to have no problem expressing herself...and it always (at least in her mind) seemed to be for the common good.

I could learn a lesson from her. Sometimes the "Cecil Jacobses" in my life just get me so riled up, I want to meet them out on the playground and beat the livin' tar outta' them. It almost happened yesterday at one of my regular staff meetings. I finally couldn't take it any longer and "What the Sam Hill-ed" the conversation at hand. Just brought it to a complete stop. Well, they made me angry! I told them what they were talking about was the most ridiculous thing I'd ever seen or heard -- in fact, it was just plain hurtful, and I didn't agree with it one bit. Just like the kitchen table scene from the movie, everyone froze for a second, as I felt my face warming and tears beginning to fill my eyes after my exclamation. Thanks to my own "Atticus" (and you know who you are), later, I was able to calm down and make it through the day.

But as I get older, I see more things like young Scout. Things that just don't make sense. Things that are downright ugly. And I find myself saying, "What the Sam Hill are you doing?" or just wanting to tackle them on the playground and beat some sense into them.

Lately I realized that there are a few of my musician friends who are willing to take time out of their own busy schedules to go support other musicians in their efforts. But is the favor returned? Heck, no. They just keep promoting their own best interests. Always gotta have the biggest, bestest show, always gotta have the first, longest solo... and heaven forbid someone who actually wants to grow and learn asks to join in with them..! When music becomes a competition -- a battle of the egoes, it's lost its true essence -- forgive me for asking, but isn't music the stuff that is supposed to bring us together and put us all on the same page? And the most hurtful thing is that some of these people were the same ones who re-ignited my interest in music and singing a few years ago... so what happened to them? What the Sam Hill are you doing????

Oh, I could go on and on, but my lunch hour's almost at an end. I need to brush the playground dirt off my dress, wipe the dust off my hands, and get back to work.

Thank you, Miss Jean Louise Finch. You are my inspiration.

Living "Out of the Box"

I kinda let this blogging thing go for a while. Almost 4 months to the day, to be exact -- May 11. Wow. How far I've come!

Okay, thanks to the help of my "Yes Man," I've discovered that the "Little Boxed in Girl" really likes it better when she opens the lid and peeks out to a world just waiting to be experienced. So, I grabbed my box-cutter, ripped open the thick cardboard and extra-strength packing tape, took a deep breath...and it felt great.

What have I done since my "great escape?"

• I wrote and sang a song to someone...without music to accompany me. I felt as if I were baring my soul.

• I woke up early enough to watch an oceanfront sunrise for the first time.

• I discovered that late-night skinny-dips are heavenly...and devilishly fun.

• I decided to start letting go of things (and people) that are "energy suckers."

• I went to a bellydance class on a whim one Saturday, and it made me feel beautiful.

• I sang at a restaurant with a good friend...with about 5 minutes to prepare...and the people liked it.

• I went for my first evening motorcycle ride... through the country... and it was breathtaking.

• I made a difficult decision for the right/best reasons and am learning to live with it.

• I took a risk and trusted someone enough to share an experience that happened a long time ago from which I haven't fully recovered. The moment I did, I felt a tremendous weight lift off of me.

• I started taking swing dance lessons.

• I realized that my "Yes Man" was the love of my life, and now, we're both learning to live "out of the box" together.

Ain't life grand when you take a little chance or a risk, and it feels GOOD? Now...What's next? :)

"Closed Off Little Box Girl"

Okay, late last night I had a conversation with someone who I consider very special. We were discussing the topic of life (don't roll your eyes!), and he mentioned the movie, "Yes Man." So I took a look at a few of the clips of the movie and really got a clear picture of how my life is right now.

I'm the "closed off little box girl" who's afraid to crawl out and take a chance and do something that could be scary but also could be one helluva lot of fun at the same time.

Yeah, that's me.

I've had some relationships and life experiences that caused me to crawl back in my shell and lose trust and faith...in others... AND in myself. I think I've missed out on life, and from today forward, I'm not going to miss one more opportunity to experience something new. Something potentially scary. Something potentially humiliating. Maybe not illegal (I gotta keep my job)... but maybe just on the verge. Just say "What the hell," and go for it. I'm gonna say what's in my heart and not worry if it comes across weird. I'm gonna be honest with myself. Authentic. And if I feel like getting up and dancing by myself -- or with someone else -- I'm gonna do it. I'm gonna sing like I don't give a damn who's listening.

Whew! That feels good.

So, thanks to you, dear friend. You are my "Yes Man." Maybe not as scary and weird as Jim Carrey... but darned close. I like that :)