Monthly Archives: May 2015

*I wrote this a few weeks back. Just waited a while to post it.*

Today I did something big.

People congratulated me and seemed more excited at my accomplishment than I was.

It was very strange.

I made 2 ladies cry as I explained how I came to this point. As normal, I kept a straight face and told them it’s OK, that the girls and I have adjusted to life without any major complications. That this was all part of God’s plan and that we are moving forward.

As I walked out of the bank, I held back my tears. This was a huge deal, but it was so bittersweet not to have Jayson there smiling back at me and say “we finally did it. We are debt free.“

So, I celebrated, alone.

My shindig included a takeout lunch of a chicken baked potato and a sweet tea. I was gonna splurge on some banana pudding, but they were out. Then my day of putting away mounds of laundry scattered throughout my house was put on the back burner so I could catch up on Once Upon A Time, take a nap and eat way too many Hersey’s Nuggets with almonds. That was followed by a rush across town to pick up my girls because I overslept.

I guess you can call that a celebration of sorts, or maybe that’s just how I cope.

See, that was the last thing on my list. Jay and I were very prepared for the unthinkable. We discussed, in detail, what we’d do if one of us unexpectedly passed away. We knew who we’d name as beneficiaries, take over raising our kids, had enough life insurance to pay all our debt and then live a comfortably modest life. I told him that I’d want him to find love and be happy. He told me he wanted me to be sad and miserable forever. I laughed. He said he wasn’t kidding (he had a great sense of humor).

I have officially fulfilled my end of the deal. All of it. And, although I miss him dearly, I know he’ll always have a huge chunk of me that he took with him. I’m not saying I’m healed, far from it really, but I see now that God has plans for my girls and I that I would have never foreseen. Who knows, as a sweet friend recently said to me, “our husband’s could be in heaven looking down and playing match maker.” It’s a funny thought that makes me giggle every time it crosses my mind.

Now, all I have to do is raise my girls the best I can, try to find some time to figure out who I am now and hope I can clearly hear God’s instructions on where to go from here.

Easy peasy, right?

Kelly

Picture this:

You are traveling for the first time by yourself on a plane with two children, 7 and 3. Not only are you worried about them having meltdowns, but you yourself are scared of flying (well, take off and landing).

First flight is a dream. Smiles, laughter, looks of approval from other passengers. It was glorious!

Then, your well planned hour and a half layover is in a tiny airport with wall to wall people and no where for the children to run off energy. Not only that, but the little one (who hates to poop and waits until the very last second to tell you she has to go) starts screaming and crossing her ankles. So, off you run to the only bathroom, which by the way, only has 2 stalls and there’s 10 people in front of you.

What then?

Well, the small child poops her panties and you have the 7 year old hold up a blanket to cover said child while you clean her off and put on a pull up in the middle of the terminal. You clean your hands the best you can with a wipe and try to cover the smell with lotion. The smell doesn’t come off your hands though.

Now you are boarding the plane and the 7 year old exclaims she has to pee.

Of course she has to pee now! Why wouldn’t she have to pee NOW?

But, you don’t have time to run back and wait in line, so you tell her to wait till you get on the plane. However, the plane is packed and she can’t get back to the bathroom, so she has to wait until you get in the air.

Can you say turbulence?

Yep, that’s right. You are now sitting next to a crying child who can’t move because if she does, she’ll wet herself. Then the panic sets in her eyes and you are no longer afraid of the wrath of the flight attendant, you run your child to the bathroom only to find the flight attendant sitting by the door and telling you that you’re supposed to be seated.

Then, it happens.

You start balling like a baby. Big, ugly sobs. You apologize and try to make an audible apology, but all that comes out is something about just trying to hold it together on your first trip without your husband because he died and she was about to wet herself….He gets up and grabs tissues, you send your child to the potty and here comes your other child running down the aisle.

You cry some more.

You all return to your seats, with the box of tissues because the flight attendant insisted, and you continue to cry.

Your bag is now filled with tissues and the youngest starts screaming she has to poop. Dear God, let’s not repeat this, you think to yourself. Then you smell the poo and the child knocks her water into the floor soaking the bag under her seat which belongs to someone else. You choose not to tell the bags owner and hope he doesn’t notice until you are long gone.

The flight attendant offers you different varieties of adult beverages multiple times. Then your youngest starts screaming like someone’s trying to kill her. Flight attendant comes back by to offer you some wine.

You get off the plane with a smelly, sleepy child, frazzled nerves, dirty princess undies in your bag and pretty sure your hand still smells like poo.

You cry again because you are so glad to be off that God forsaken Hell plane. Then you cry some more because you see your late husband’s mother and sister on the other side of the terminal.

Everything is much better after that.

Laugh if you must, but I totally lived this today on a flight from Kansas City to Albuquerque. Your day doesn’t seem so bad now, huh? Good! Glad I can help!

Kelly