The Mountain Story
The Mountain Story is one of my all time favorite books. Told in alternating time periods by the narrator who is also the protagonist of this novel: Wolf is a young man determined to end his life. The book begins as a letter to Wolf’s now grown son as Wolf tells him that he has a story to tell; one he has not yet shared with his own wife. Moving back in time eighteen years from the letter, Wolf is a young man on the cusp of adult hood but is consumed with guilt from an accident that takes his best friend Byrd, from everyone who loves him. The guilt that consumes Wolf along with the family dysfunction that over runs him, forces him up to the mountain to end his life.
The story begins to unfold when his path crosses with three very different women. Wolf comes face to face with these women that will ultimately change his life. The women all know one another but their true relationships are revealed little by little throughout the first couple chapters of this book, keeping the reader engaged. As the foursome become desperately lost on the mountain, the wilderness soon takes its toll on them all as they are just trying to find their way home.
Given that this novel is not in the specific genre of mystery, it has more twists and turns than a roller coaster. Without giving too much away, because the ending is one that left me awe struck at many different points, this book is worth the adventure it takes the reader on.
With the intricate weaving of past events from Wolf’s life that makes him the young man he was when his plan was to end his life on the mountain coincide with bits and pieces the three women share with him about their past life, the reader is given the big picture of how this book is brilliantly constructed.
Redemption is one of the themes I took away from the book. Here is the main character, Wolf; who most people had written off. However, I think that a person who has struggled with life in a way this character is portrayed can take advantage of knowing that second chances are real. Although this book is a work of fiction, it is inspirational in a world tied down by devastating news stories.
This is a heart-warming story of endurance and perseverance that hits right at the soul of anyone that has faced the most difficult circumstances. Always written in a fast pace voice, as the reader, I was always on the edge of my seat to as how this beautiful story would conclude.
The Mother/Daughter Reading Challenge
As a mother of multiple children, I will admit that I feel guilty sometimes with the one on one time I invest into my kids. We are always together as a family but all my kids need that individual time with me too. I have really tried to pin point their passions and invest time in those specific desires for each child. I feel torn in many directions but this year I have made a plan to find a passion for each of my children and devote time to that specific element with them. This particular article focuses on my oldest child. Blue Eyes is an avid reader and this year we decided to start a reading challenge together.
We chose some of our favorite categories from previous book challenges and split the list in half. She was given half of the list and I was left with the other half. We will read the same books on the list giving us more to discuss than how unfair the world is in the eyes of teenage girl. (Anyone who has a teen understands that this is just par for the course and as mothers we just have to embrace this little right of passage.)
The idea of this challenge is to select books that I know she may not read but will challenge her. I want the books she has selected to given me insight into the world of a teenage girl. (I apparently forgot what it is like to be both a teenager and girl…or so I have been told.) Let’s be real; the books a sixteen year old reads will vary greatly from what I read, although I did pick a few YA books in my choices to show Blue Eyes I am adaptable.
Autobiography: Through My Eyes by Tim Tebow
Fairy tale book: September Girls by Bennett Madison
Classic 20th century book: Slaughter House Five by Kurt Vonnegut
Book that takes place on an island: We Were Liars by E. Lockhart
First book by an author: Behind Closed Doors by B. A. Paris
Sci-fi: Origins by Mark Henrickson
Book one hundred years older than myself: Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen
A fictional novel based around a particular sport: You Will Know Me by Megan Abbott
My favorite book I picked for my daughter to read: The Summer of My German Soldier by Bette Greene
Blue Eye’s List
A fictional book based around animals: Promise Of the Wolves by Dorothy Hearst
A book based on Greek Mythology-fiction: The Goddess Test by Aimee Carter
Sun in the title: The Sun is Also a Star By Nicola Yoon
A fictional book based around food: The Peculiar Sadness of Lemon Cake by Aimee Bender
A characters name in the title: Artemis Fowl by Eoin Colfer
Biography on a world leader: Pericles of Athens and the Birth of Democracy by Donald Kagen
A non-fiction book: The Punic Wars by Adrian Goldsworthy
A how to book: A book on becoming a Drum Major (Presently we are researching because the one she picked at first was one thousand dollars.)
A book picked by my daughter for me to read: Red Queen by Victoria Aveyard
When it comes to Blue Eyes and the massive amount of reading she does, I try to find a fine line between giving her a wide range of choices, yet limiting her in the items that a sixteen-year-old should avoid reading. Anyone with a teenage daughter will understand what I mean when I say, “Picking my battles.”
In the end, we may not get to all of the eighteen books that we have picked for each other to read on this list because her plate is heavy with school and I have a couple different reading challenges going on myself. However, the point of this is spending time and for myself as a mother to invest in those passions that are truly important to my children.
Just a few books we have collected for the reading challenge so far.
Everyone has a little OCD
It was Christmas time and my dad was in town for a visit. Always trying to lend a helping hand, my dad is willing to help whenever he can. Most times, his preferred way is by loading and unloading the dishwasher. On this particular visit, it only took a few days of him being in our home before he had put our kids on notice over the amount of cups needing to be washed every day. Things got so bad that my father even felt compelled to go out and purchase us new glasses in fear that we didn’t have enough for our home.
Fast-forward to the New Year and my desire for a more organized household. I realized that my father had a point and that we were going through too many drinking cups every day. I already knew the reasoning behind this issue. It was too easy to lose track of which cup belonged to who since every cup looked the same. People couldn’t tell one from the other and would instinctively reach for a new one rather than risk drinking after someone else.
Color coding cups was a topic I had dabbled with in the past. There was only one hitch with this plan though. Our house had four colors of cups for six people. This factor made some people less than eager to follow the color coding guidelines. If this strategy was going to work, everyone needed to participate. Even the adults!
Within a week (thanks Amazon!), everyone had his or her own colored cups. Problem solved, right? Wrong! Some skilled diplomacy was still needed to overcome who received which color since my house has four strong and independent children. After a few small compromises, we were able to get everyone to sign a declaration of peace and life could move forward.
Before long I was standing in our kitchen ready to begin my twenty-minute tutorial on the etiquette of colored cups and the purposes behind them. Within this mini lesson, I explained that a person’s colored cup must remain out all day. I showed them where to place them and that if they went from juice to water, they simply needed to rinse the cup out first. I showed them what do if we had company and answered any other questions they could possibly come up with relating to colored cups. After a decent amount of time, my teenager, Blue Eyes finally said, “Okay Mom, I think we all get it.” I then proceeded to use a sharpie to write each person’s name on their designated cups.
I began to consider how insane I sounded about these cups. I soon came to the conclusion that sometimes insanity is just a part of motherhood. These color coordinated cups and the detailed system of their use was a justified result of the fact that I had the dishwasher running constantly.
The fact of the matter is that sometimes everyone needs to let a bit of OCD overtake their lives. There is no better motivator than a persistent problem that only requires some stringent organization and obsessive focus to overcome. I don’t generally have issues regarding OCD in my daily life. The overuse of cups is just one of those things where a simple daily chore was sending me over the edge. Thankfully, sanity is now a far more common guest in my home thanks to this minor step towards organization.
The Dinner By Herman Koch
Upon completion of The Dinner, I had to ask myself if my cultural differences interfered with my interpretation. To clarify, I felt the book was very well written, but the content made me shake my head at times. All in all, this book could make the most dysfunctional family look normal.
Let’s start from the beginning. The novel is set in Holland and follows Paul Lohman, the narrator of this novel. At first, you are given a picture of two brothers and their wives sitting down for dinner at a well-known upscale restaurant. It seems as ordinary as anything else in life for these brothers to enjoy a night out together. As you delve into the book, you see there are deeper issues with this family and the brother’s relationship. Paul doesn’t seem as if he likes his brother too much. We have all been there. Family is given to us; we don’t choose them. It is natural to assume that in some cases we would never have selected them as friends if not related. The author taps into this issue. However, that is family at the core. They are part of us, and because of that we put up with our family’s idiosyncrasies. The same is true as it is depicted within The Dinner.
In the beginning, we see Paul walking to the restaurant with his wife, Claire. As he narrates, he gives history that is important to the basis of the story, weaving the past with the present. His brother is the supposed shoe-in for prime minister of Holland and Paul sees everyone one fall at the feet of Serge Lohman. It is safe to say Paul doesn’t view his brother in the same light.
As the dinner progresses with Serge and his wife, Babette, we are introduced to both the couple’s children. It is further revealed through their conversations that the purpose of this dinner is to discuss a serious issue that involves their sons.
Beyond this point, too many spoilers would be exposed. Needless to say, this story numbs the very fiber of one’s moral being. We are left with the simple question, “What the hell?”
As previously mentioned, I wondered at first if my shock over the story was due to a cultural difference, since the writer is from Holland. It might be akin to when those not from the United States looks at us Americans and say, “Ah, that’s those Yankee’s for you…”
After careful consideration and reflecting on other reader’s reactions to this book, I don’t particularly think that culture was the deciding factor in the decline of the characters’ judgments. This book taps into the very nature of human beings and the harsh reality that some people are just not good. When concessions are made in order to cover up bad choices, it can lead to a series of regretful decisions, as shown in this book.
As far as the novel itself, I felt it was masterfully crafted and engaging. This story is fast paced and I couldn’t wait to find out how it had concluded. In the end, although it was upsetting, this story showed the reality of the sometimes very ugly human spirit.
**All book reviews can be found on the book review tab on thismamawritesandreads.com for easier navigation
A Simple Tool I Use
I am here to confess that I have an obsession with Amazon. Everything started five years ago with unexpected news that our fourth child was on his way. Given that I thought our family was already completed with our three girls, we had already given everything baby related away.
I initially started a list on Amazon to help get my thoughts straight and to keep everything organized. I soon realized how simple Amazon made the whole process. Back then I was not a prime member (oh-the horror), and instead opted to get my items shipped free of charge by waiting an extended time. The normal wait time was usually a week or sometimes two. I was only six months pregnant at that point and had the patience to wait out the time for my Amazon gratification.
Then when Mister Monster was a year old, I started using Amazon to do my Christmas shopping. I used the same process as before and kept detailed lists that were organized and easy to understand. During this time, I was heavily involved in my master’s program while also doing my very best to raise our four children. I just didn’t have the time to navigate the stores. Oh, it was heaven being able to utilize Amazon in that way.
A week before my nephew’s birthday, I was on a search for something very specific. Two of his greatest loves were the Seattle Seahawks (this was the year they won the Super Bowl) and zombies. Thanks to Amazon, I found a Seattle Seahawks Zombie figurine and just knew it would be a huge hit. It is hard enough to find a gift for a fourteen-year-old boy, but I had done it! The trouble with this purchase was that the standard wait time would get him his gift well after his birthday. A little research showed me that signing up for Amazon Prime would ensure his gift was delivered in time while I still received my cool aunt props.
I signed up for Amazon Prime’s free thirty day trial with the intention of canceling it after that time had elapsed. Needless to say, I never parted from Amazon Prime and we have been best friends ever since. While I was already a tremendous fan of Amazon, the Prime option changed the game completely! In essence, I have my nephew and a zombie figurine to thank for my continued love for Amazon.
This is the item that started it all!
But let me clarify, ninety-eight percent of what I buy on Amazon is stuff I would generally go to Wal-Mart and search the aisles for. This helps me to save time and money. If my kids get a birthday invitation, I am the first to text the mom (I love technology for those sort of things) and find out what the birthday boy or girl may like. I log onto Amazon (though for us Amazon savvy people, we have the app on our phone) and sit with my child and together we pick out the perfect present. Best of all is that it is delivered in two days. This also leaves me free from having to pack up my crew and brave the stores with everyone in toe, and that in itself is worth the Amazon Prime payment.
What are the things I buy most often from Amazon? It would be easier to answer what I don’t buy. Here are my essentials that I shop for most often:
I shop for nearly every present for all occasions on Amazon. You can really find some great gems on there. With Amazon Prime, I ship directly to the person if they are out of state. At first I thought it was impersonal to do this, but I do take my time to really select the right present for each person. In the end, they are getting their gift hand delivered to them. I call that a win/win for everyone!
The fact that I can consistently find some great quality clothes that I happen to love on Amazon is huge. They have about every style out there, and they are of amazing quality. Jeans are my go to item for this site. Also, I can’t forget the three other females that reside in my house with the same love for clothes as their mother.
Again, I have girls. They each love their shoes as much as any other female. Thankfully, Amazon makes it easy. Returns are easy and the styles and sizes available there outmatch anything in this area.
This is a necessity with the amount of estrogen in our house. Shampoo and conditioner are items we go through quite often. It is an easy order to place when we are in need. If I run out of eyeliner or something else and don’t want to trek to the store with kids, I can place an order instantly.
I presently need a new toaster and have it in my cart, along with other items that fall in this category. I can review all similar items with the reviews and make an educated choice. It is just that simple.
When we lived a good thirty minutes from a Wal-Mart, I used it for essential pantry items like rice, pasta, tuna fish and any other needed items that don’t have to be refrigerated.
I am an avid reader. Need I say more?
I have access to more books with this program than I could ever hope to read. Considering the price of buying paperbacks, the $10 I spend on this makes it a real bargain. Not all books fall in this category but it is nice to have this option anyway.
We have the Alexa and several Kindles. We have bought televisions, radios, and pretty much anything else we may have a need for. Again, we can purchase it on line after looking at the reviews and make a better decision without the clatter of little voices distracting us in the store.
For some reason, I thought white dining room chairs were a great idea. Anyway, over the years, you can imagine what they look like now. I finally decided enough was enough and bought nice sturdy red metal chairs. They are stylish and easy to wipe off. I have also gotten throw pillows, comforters, pictures, seasonal décor, outdoor furniture, and the list goes on. I am always able to find different items that you wouldn’t find in the store.
I have this mentality about purses. I love them, but I don’t want to be stuck with one forever because I paid so much for it. I find that I date my purses but I never want to marry them. (With Coach or Kate Spade, I would be married to that purse for ten years). I found a couple brands of purses on the site and when I’m ready to break up with a purse, I can go to my old trusted brands and start dating another purse again.
I am an earring wearing woman. I love them and can always find great deals on them. They may not always be a Prime item but I can wait a couple weeks for a good deal.
The choice of items available on Amazon is so diverse and I find that I get a lot of compliments on the pieces I buy. Anyone who knows me understands that when they ask me where I got it, nine times out of ten I will say Amazon.
Now, there are some pretty funny Amazon stories that have cracked people up throughout the years. I am known for buying an item and being surprised by its size when it comes in and I swear to my husband, “I looked at the measurements and in my mind it was larger.”
There was the time my son, only two years old, grabbed my phone and clicked on my Amazon app without me knowing. Two days later, I had a new bra delivered to my doorstep! I was stumped at first as to how that had happened until I remembered him having my phone. My husband came home that day and laughed, “Sure, he accidently bought you a bra. Why couldn’t he have accidently bought me a Play Station 4?”
A few times, I’d forgotten to change the address on my shipment. One day I received a weird call from a friend asking, “Did you mean to send me dining room chairs?”
Then just recently, I received a text from my bank that a large deduction was taken out of my account from Amazon and I thought to myself, what did I do? Looking at my orders, I realized I bought a red couch, something the hubs would have hated. I was able to cancel the order before it landed on my porch, which was a good thing. I am pretty sure if the hubs came home to find a red couch, he would have rescinded my Amazon Prime membership immediately. But in all seriousness, Amazon truly is a godsend for this busy mama.
Grief: Close Up
Losing someone you love dearly is one of the greatest tragedies we all eventually face. In my case, this loss represents a gaping hole in my life that simply will never be filled again.
A couple months ago, I was unfortunate enough to lose my mother. This loss has put me through a gambit of emotions. I doubt there are even names for each of the emotions I have found myself wading through. Even though I was fortunate enough to have my mom for forty-one years of my life, I simply feel too young to be motherless.
This is the one true piece of reality I keep traveling back to. Being a mother myself, I feel robbed of my inability to share the magical moments with her that she shared with me. I find it a hard pill to swallow honestly. Existing in a world where the eternal and unconditional love of my mom is no longer a part of my daily life seems slightly hollower than it once did. I can recognize that I was able to have my mother be a part of my life far longer than other friends and I can look back now with gratitude at all the time I was able to share with her.
Coupled with this understanding is the fact that I still have my dad in my life. Many of my friends, both younger and older, have lost both set of parents by this stage in their life. To add to that blessing, that father of mine is as wonderful as they come and I adore him beyond measure. I know I must be grateful for what I have, but it doesn’t lessen my desire to have my mother’s love back in my life once more.
This is what I have learned so far on my short journey through grief. This road will continue to become a longer and longer one to navigate as the first year without my mom will soon turn into two, and then five and ten and so on.
I had a great relationship with my mother. It was not always perfect because at times I could be a real pain the ass, but our bond transformed into one of friendship. As I got older and a little more mature, I realized the importance of being less self-absorbed. It was then that our relationship turned into a connection from which I have very few regrets. In talking to friends who have lost their parents, I have come to realize something very important. Regardless of the relationship you share with your mother and whether you spoke to her daily (like me) or once a year, the loss you feel over her death is not invalidated. It is a real entity and you are entitled to grieve.
The first milestones without her have felt as if I am missing a major part of my body. I have already been through the first Mother’s Day without her. I dreaded this day and was full of sadness as I watched it grow closer on the calendar, though I knew I couldn’t just wallow in my own feelings of loss and remorse. Just like her, I am a mother as well and I knew that I had children who were counting on their mother that day. So what did I do? I got my rear in gear and looked after their wellbeing. That is what being a mom is all about. You put your kids before yourself. Always.
What I didn’t expect to affect me so awful was the first of my children’s birthday without her. It was something I always shared with my mom. She was there with me for each one of them and without thinking, we would always drift back and reminisces about each of my children’s births. After all, my children along with my sister’s children were her pride and joy.
I am not the only one missing her. I have children that miss her immensely every day. Even though geography was against us, my kids saw their grandmother quite often considering the distance between us. My children also knew that whenever they wanted to talk to Grandma, she was just a phone call away. My sister misses her too. So do her kids. My dad misses her most of all. I can’t even begin to explain how he feels. The list doesn’t just stop there either. There are countless others whose lives she touched and who miss her as well. I mean, for crying out loud, it was standing room only at her funeral! Many people loved her! I need to remember that I am not the only one grieving.
The process of grief is as diverse as each individual who experiences it. I remember the day of the funeral and my sister and dad being so overcome with emotions of loss and sadness. I barely shed a tear, which is odd considering I am someone who is extremely emotional in my own right. But we all process grief differently. I thought something was wrong with me, as if I didn’t miss her as much as my sister did. I’ve learned as time has gone by that it has become far harder for me than it was when I was in the midst the funeral. Regardless of the how you grieve, grief is grief and it sucks rotten eggs.
It doesn’t matter if your mom has been gone one day or ten years, you will inadvertently pick up the phone to call her or say something along the lines of, “Oh, mom would get a kick out of this.” I remember as we were preparing for her funeral, my sister was after a specific picture of the three of us together at the beach. It was my mom’s favorite place on this earth. My sister was down stairs looking for it, and in her mind she immediately thought, Oh, I will just go up and ask mom, she will know where it is. She shared that with me later on and I confessed that I too had similar moments that overwhelmed me without warning. I was always one to pick up the phone when my kids did something outlandish. My mom and I would laugh over even the littlest things concerning her grandkids. I miss that, more than I thought I would. There are going to be triggers and moments that bring back painful memories. I keep telling myself to be prepared for them, but unless you have gone through this yourself, you simply can’t fathom the emotional distress that will fill you when they occur.
You can’t help but feel a degree of despair when you see other adult children and mothers out spending time with one another. It fills me with both jealousy and thankfulness. Obviously, the jealousy part is self-explanatory. I want my mom here with me doing the things those other people are. The thankfulness part is two fold. First, it made thankful and blessed to have had my mom as long as I had. But on top of that, I am glad for those friends that still have their moms because I know how much I miss mine. For my friends that still have their moms on this earth, I am glad they haven’t had to feel the pain of loss I have.
The last thing I can share concerns those that still have their moms with them in this world along with anyone who has recently lost their mother. I was thankful my friends reached out to me, cried with me, and sat vigil with me as I spent her final days on Earth by her bedside. As much as my friends who sill have their moms hurt for me, they don’t fully understand the extent of my mourning because they simply have not traveled this same road. I was fortunate enough to have some friends who were able to pick me up emotionally and helped carry me through the process of loss. They themselves had already experienced the heartache I was so new to. One day, I will be that steady hand for a friend who has recently lost their mom. I know it will be in this moment that I will understand that all this pain was not in vain and I can help comfort those that are totally lost in their grief.
Maybe not all these ideas pertain to you. If you indeed have joined the same club I never wanted to belong in, you will find a tall list of absolutes that come with a loss so deep. In closing, I will leave you with one memory I have of my mom pertaining to her death. As a child, we attended a funeral where a mom was saying good-bye to her child for the very last time. It is an image I will never forget and it made a lasting impact on my mother as well. Shortly after, she sat my sister and I down and told us that no mother should ever have to bury a child. Being a mother now, I agree whole-heartedly with that statement. She continued to explain to the two of us that there was a natural progression to life and, although I hate this natural progression, I know this is what she would have wanted. She would have wanted her children to out live her. She would want us to carry on and keep her memory alive. I know she would have been proud to know that we are still trying like hell to make that happen.
Above is my mom with my kids at various times in their lives. She was certainly one that took picutes of everything and I am thankful now to have those memories.
Pictured above is one of the last pictures I have with my mom. Being from the Pacific Northwest, this sign amused her.
Below, in the first image, my father and I sprinkling her ashes in the ocean as was her desire. Although we are smiling, it was a hard day for us. But this is what she wanted and in that way, it made us happy. The next picture is the last family picture we had taken together. Again, I am so thankful my mom insisted on this picture. I miss you Mom!
The days are long, but the years are short when raising children. My children, just like your children, are my world. But the struggle to raise healthy and happy children is real! The work this takes is equally just as demanding as it is satisfying. Raising children comes with many stories and many of them extremely funny when we look back on them. The trouble though is that we, as mothers who are working their way through it all, either may not think so or may not be able to laugh in the moment.
As a mother of multiple children, I feel pulled in seventy different directions and that is on a good day. Parenting in a pragmatic way is just not logical. Never in a rational world, would one say, “Don’t eat your sister’s buggers.” Again, we use our logic as parents with very unreasonable subjects.
We have all had those days where we look back and wonder how we made it across the finish line. When I look back at all the trying days and exhausting moments, there is always one that stands out above the rest and highlights just how comedic the job of raising children can seem once all the dust has settled.
Let me first explain that I am a fly by the seat of my pants kind of parent. Sure, I like scheduled bedtimes and can attest to my love of naptimes. These quiet moments are some of my favorite points of the day! But I also enjoy the freedom of being able to get up and go on an adventure. In my opinion, naps will be there tomorrow.
Given my love for living in the moment, there is one specific day that will forever define me as a parent. This particular memory doesn’t retell anything overly tragic or even exhilarating. The accompanying story only seems ludicrous now that I can look back on it and laugh. Simply put, I made the sporadic decision to embark on a twelve-hour drive with my three children, then ages nine, five and three.
If you have ever attempted something like this, whether planned or not, you undoubtedly just got a shudder at what I was voluntarily putting myself through. Long road trips with a car full of children never cease to be filled with difficulties.
But the story doesn’t just start with us getting in the car and heading out. First you need to pack for the trip and that task with children is like arranging a symphony orchestra. It is never a small undertaking by any means, but this is all part of the adventure, correct?
Thankfully the hubby was able to pack up the Mom Mobile giving me one less thing to take care of before our departure. Now I should explain that the Mom Mobile is what I have dubbed any minivan for it is the chosen mode of transportation for those with multiple children. This vehicle has been our tried and true best friend when it comes to everything from running errands and shuttling kids around town. After all, what family with as many kids as ours doesn’t have a minivan?
After only an hour on the road my husband informed me that he would be joining us later on in the week. He had just bought a ticket to Mississippi, which was a very pleasant surprise.
Once the van was packed, and before anyone could say otherwise, I had the Mom Mobile on the road and we were off. We were happily maneuvering the roads of Charlotte, N.C., when the hubby happened to call. I could tell by the tone of his voice that there was some apprehension behind what he needed to tell me. “You will never believe what I just found in one the girls rooms?”
“I can’t even begin to guess, but I can tell you that I don’t like the sound of your voice.” I replied.
He cleared his throat and gave a slight laugh, the kind of laugh he used in situations he would find funny, but I would not. “Remember when Miss Priss was pulling her suitcase carefully behind her, well, I just found it.”
Some explanation is needed here to understand the gravity of this statement. My youngest spitfire of a daughter, who I am referring to as Miss Priss in this retelling, desperately wanted her own suitcase for our trip. She hated sharing a suitcase with her sisters and begged and pleaded that we get her a suitcase of her very own, which we did. Easy fix for a simple problem, right? The only problem with this was we never knew where that suitcase was going to be.
So strike one on our trip just occurred. This didn’t really worry me at the time. I even found a silver lining thinking that this may actually help me get ahead of my shopping for the next season that was rapidly approaching. With my attitude still full of hope for the wonderful adventure ahead, I replied, “No problem, I can run by some department store and get her couple new outfits for the summer anyway.”
The traffic on the interstate through Charlotte was, like normal, horrific. Soon enough I heard my oldest scream, “Mommy, Old Soul is making a weird noise.” Looking out of the corner of my eye I saw my middle daughter, Old Soul, quickly grab for the plastic bag her older sister was forcefully trying to hand her. What proceeded was a cacophony of noise as she emptied her stomach into that bag. Added to the noise was my youngest daughter Miss Priss yelling encouraging phrases like “ewe”, while my oldest daughter, attempted to help Old Soul through it all. Strike two.
I was still hopeful at this point. I knew how to combat Old Soul’s carsickness. This was a common occurrence on many of our longer trips and a quick trip into a pharmacy, and we would be back on the road.
Walking back to the van, my oldest daughter looks at me with such discomfort in her voice, “Hey, Mommy. My head really hurts. It just started.”
Blue Eyes, my oldest daughter, just looked at me with a weird look as I felt her head, thinking she might be getting sick and was running a fever. “No, Mommy, not that, it hurts up here on the outside of my head.”
After taking a quick look at her head I was able to easily determine the source of her discomfort. She was being invaded by a swarm of small crawly creatures. Lice! This now was strike three and the trip was over! But alas, the hubby had already bought a ticket and was planning to meet us in Mississippi in a few days. There was nothing I could do but continue this impromptu trip with my children. In case you’ve lost count, by this point I had one who was puking, one with a headful of lice, and a third with no clothes for the next day!
After a quick trip to the grocery store, I stopped at the next rest area I came across. I took a deep breath and turned to face my children. Old Soul was still continuing to vomit repeatedly despite everything I did to make her feel more comfortable. Blue Eye’s hair was covered in lice. I treated it the best I could while on the road with an over the counter remedy. To make matters worse, when I applied the lice shampoo, the creepy suckers started jumping off her scalp. I still scratch at my own head just thinking about it. After I treated her hair, I cut it into the shortest bob I could with a pair of dull over the counter scissors and continued on the final leg to Mississippi.
Motherhood is never the journey you expect it to be, but it is certainly the adventure you make it. This trip, which I have since dubbed The Journey to Hell, is one that I can look back on now with fond memories. Despite all the setbacks, we did end up having fun and made some lasting memories together.
In the end, childhood seems to come and go far too quickly. I know that soon my own children will be off and grown with families of their own. Like me, they will be confronted with situations where logic should provide answers to problems that seem to develop out of thin air. I can only hope that my children reach out to me in much the same way as I have reached out to my own mother, who could only laugh at my ridiculous true story. My children will have those same stories that I will delight in as my own mother did with my many stories throughout the years. As a young mother, appreciate every small moment because in a blink of an eye, they will be moved on to the next chapter in their life.
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