Suburban Bliss:: Birth Control Via The Written Word

Life List: River Float

This summer we went on a river float. This is an item on my Life List. The best way to tell you about our very first river float would be to show you some colorful, slightly tweaked photos. They'd put you right there. Give you the sense of how great it was. 

I'd show you the cooler full of juice boxes, I'd show you the other cooler full of very light beers (practically water) and the other adult concoction Logan whipped up for the event.

I'd show you the sweet Rottweiler who lived at the place we went to. I'd show you how dirty our car got finding the place we rented our tubes from. I'd show you all the times we turned around and passed the other two families who went with us because all three of our GPS's told us different ways to get there. 

I'd also probably have a pretty good picture of me falling into the water not even two minutes into the float, trying to save the cooler tube from floating away to Canada...(Pro Tip: Ask if they have rope where you rent your tubes. If they don't and you're floating down a river with ten kids and six adults...bring some rope.)

I can't show you these things because someone dropped our camera so this entire summer, my Best Summer In A Long Time, will forever consist of crappy iPhone photos taken with my 3g phone. Sigh. 

We went up north again this summer with some friends, like we did last year. This year there was another family with us and another couple of kids thrown into the mix. 

I'd mentioned I wanted to do a river float before we headed up, everyone was into it, sounded like fun. So we prepared to do it the day before our family went home.

LIFE LIST!

Two of the kids had a traumatic experience with a rain storm a few weeks prior and it threatened to rain at several points during this day. The result was these poor kids were scared the entire time that it might rain. Like two tiny terrified meteorologists...from Texas. (Where rain is considered a state of emergency.)

LIFE LIST!

As we waited to get on the road one of the kids in our group decided the van we would be travelling in to be dropped off up the river to start our float was not suitable. And I'll grant her that. It really wasn't suitable as anything other than a giant rapist van. It was only missing curtains on the windows and maybe some sort of airbrushed eagle. Or angel. But we went on anyway.

LIFE LIST!

One of the older kids told the littler ones there were snakes in the water. Ha ha ha! ...... So those little kids were pretty excited to get in the water. 

LIFE LIST!

We get in the water and the two littlest floaters are, in a word, petrified, though they'd done this before in Florida. I almost brought up the gators in Florida, they should have been scared then not now! But one look at my friend's face as she held the hand of her terrified child told me it wasn't a good idea.
So we floated down the river with a bit of a soundtrack, a soundtrack I'd entitle, "I don't want to do this." One of the kids cried for so long he actually fell asleep. Or maybe he left his body and went to his happy place to endure this particular level of hell. [Enter adult beverages here.] 

LIFE LIST!

A little ways down the river one of our party gets stuck in the branches on the side of the river with one of the really terrified children. As we try to talk them out of their predicament, she screams so loudly I thought to myself, "Holy Crap, the kid was right about the snakes."
It wasn't a snake but an enormous spider. Her husband jumps off his tube to rescue his wife and child who we think are being attacked by a water moccasin. When everyone is safe he realizes...he's lost his wedding band at the bottom of the river.

LIFE LIST!

This is the part of the float where we regrouped. We got our everyone's tubes together, all 10 kids and 6 adults. We got everyone a beverage, the sun came out so the Terrified Meteorologists could relax, the little kids either passed out or started to relax. We came up with a plan for keeping everyone connected and started floating down the river.

Life List!

Keeping all our tubes connected was a little like a giant game of Twister. You grab that persons ankle and another person's hand. Then you switch and someone's holding your ankle and you're grabbing another person's hand. But don't let go without telling someone you're doing it and making sure they're holding onto someone else!

Life List!

Sometimes we ran into trouble, A couple kids stuck on a branch. Or someone accidentally letting go. By that time Maddie had gotten used to walking along the murky river and we'd send her against the current to help collect people and reconnect them to the group. Or more importantly distribute beverages where needed. (Everyone got two!) We started calling her our "River Otter". As in, "River Otter! Help!" I don't think I've ever seen Maddie so happy to help anyone. Even her brother.  

Life List!

One of our friends likes to yell "Hey Oh!" Maddie thinks it's when someone says something inappropriate. I think of it more as an all-purpose exclamation. We started a Call and Response halfway down the river. One person yelling "Hey" everyone else yelling "Oh!"

Life List!

By the time we arrived at the dock, with the big friendly rottweiler waiting to greet us, we were all relaxed. Everyone had had fun (except maybe our youngest travel companion who was happy...it was over).  We were all in sync. 

We were a team. 

Life List!

Back To School Gift

Maddie forced me to go to the mall on Labor Day. I have strong feelings about going to malls, shops or restaurants on holidays. I think everyone should have that day off, color me communist/socialist/unAmerican. 

Additionally I just plain hate the mall. 

But I was nearly 12 once and I know the thrill of walking around the mall BY YOURSELF with a friend. It gets me a little giddy remembering the first time a friend and I walked downtown after school to her mom's office to drop our back packs off and then, the freedom of roaming around all the stores totally free of our lame parents. So, I made myself scarce while Maddie and a friend made their way around the mall. 

I filled my time spit taking coffee every time I looked at a price tag. 

I remember telling my mom, "Moth-ER, $29 for a sweater (skirt, shirt, jeans) is nothing."

And Mom? I hope you're happy because now I'm stuck in the same hell of explaining to my daughter that twenty-nine dollars for a sweater you're going to outgrow in about 6-9 months is actually a lot. 

You wished for this, don't deny it. 

Still, while at the mall I came across this cute note pad at Urban Outfitters (not on their site). I paid $6 for it and sent it with Max as a back to school gift for his teacher.

  

Voila! I just saved you a bunch of money. 

2 for $3.89! 

PS: I can't guarantee your kid won't be labelled a suck up from now until forever. (Oh, sorry Max!) Maybe save this idea for teacher appreciation week and make it from the entire class!

Back in the Saddle

We woke up at 6:30 this morning after a summer of lazy mornings lounging in bed for longer than I'm willing to admit publicly. Lucy looked around and said, "What the hell is going on?" 

We are still working with one car, though I'm sure very soon I'll lose my patience with the situation now that there are no more busses. When this happens I'll probably steal your car. Sorry. As of now I'm running a literal chauffer service just like the most cliched cliche. 

When I drop Logan at the office I yell as loud as I can, "Make sure you're waiting for me after school! I don't want to have to find you!!!!"

He's loving it. 

I think I'm going to see a movie all by myself today. It's the kind of thing I always mean to do but never really do. 

Since I am still just an unemployed nothing, I'm thinking I need to do more of those things I always mean to do during the day. Mostly so I don't sit around the house wishing I was being more motivated to do things. 

Which brings me to my School Year Resolutions:
Find a shared work space. 
Build routine into my day, everyday.
Conquer the several painting projects I have around the house. 
Repaint the entire first floor and upstairs hallway.
Nest the hell out of my house. 
Get back to cooking for a bit.
Buy a new camera. 

Do you have any resolutions for this school year? "Eat Frosting Naked On The Kitchen Counter"? Or "Finish That Thesis"? 

Show off.

Oh I'm just typing....

Let's jump right back in here. Fresh! New! Exciting! 

I didn't get the job that's been dangled in front of me since I got the call for the phone interview in June. (I applied in May, phone interview in June, in person interview in July; one of five, .....and rejection in August. Long time, lots of hope....nuthin)

Oh it smarts. It hurts. It hurts because I have tiny feelings that are easily crushed. 

It also hurts because I have an innate belief that I'm not good enough for most anything. Where this feeling comes from is easily traceable, typical even. I am an embarrassing cliche. I feel certain of the truth of my unworthiness in the darkest times. In the brighter times, I can easily see how faulty this view of "me" is.  This is problematic because when I experience rejection I am prone to dive right back into a black hole of all the ways I am "Not Good Enough". 

I haven't written on this website very much this summer for a few reasons. In past summers I've felt pulled in 10 directions trying to keep content on this website (and other people's websites) while the kids are hanging out being bored and or trying to kill each other. This summer I sort of decided to just be present. I didn't want to think of the things we did as content for my site. I didn't want to think how this activity would look on my webpage. I just wanted to be present and enjoy this summer with the kids. 

I also didn't write a lot on this website because I was pretty sure I was going to get that job. I was pretty sure that when I finally got the offer, I'd be back to viewing my website as a fun hobby. That I'd come up with funny little things to tell you all about. And it would feel just right. But, as I said, I didn't get that job and wow....ouch. 

This is hard for me to say because almost everything I've gotten from this website over the last 7+ years has been positive. But....

But....

Sometimes I'm surprised by the feedback I get from this website and it makes me feel...I don't know, less inclined to write. This is my problem obviously, I point back to how I started this post. I tend to worry that I'm "wrong" so feedback that comes at me that says I'm wrong I'm wont to give more attention to than the average person.

Logan will read something that's bothering me and say, "That's not true so don't even think about it again" but, I tend to think, "Oh! That's wrong...here are all the ways that's wrong!" as though I'm convincing myself of this. (Which, I am.) Then I think, "Maybe that's the truth. It's true, I am a failure...." and then the downward spiral get going like a roller coaster. It's not the most pleasant way to spend an evening.

School is back in session in less than two weeks. I can't even believe it. 

Also, I'd like credit for how little I've complained this summer. I know I haven't written a lot this summer but you guys, even Logan and my best friends have said, "Wow, you really didn't complain this summer."

And I haven't. 

One of the reasons I've started to explore work outside of my home is the loneliness. It's finally gotten to me. It's reached the point that I miss the kids when they're not here to keep me company. This is a new feeling for me. I've always felt like the kids aren't away from me enough for me to miss them. My magic number for reaching "lonely" is apparently 9 (nearly 10) & 11 (almost 12). They've both been in school full time for at least 3 full years now....and I'm finally lonely.

Lucy has helped that but Lucy likes napping as much as me. She's not "motivational".

I want a team to be a part of. I'd like a schedule to be held to. 

Of course I realize I'd probably be tired of that in about 2 weeks. Not the team but having a schedule. 

Remind me to tell you about what I did on my summer vacation next time I write. 

It involves sobbing, terrified kids on tubes floating down a river. 

LIFE LIST!

Nothing says "I'm sorry" like calling an ambulance.

This summer I've started riding my bike to pick up the car from Logan's office. I attach Lucy to the side and off we go for a leisurely 1.5 mile ride up to the office where I load my bike into the car, drive home and start the day with the kids. 

It's been a pleasant way to start the day and make sure Lucy is tired out and stays out of trouble, mostly. She's become obsessed with my unmentionables and this is a distressing, and expensive, turn of events. It feels a little Single White Female. 

We like to drop our rent check at our landlord's house. I know there are things called stamps and a little service called the US Post Office but we choose not to use it because THAT'S A SOCIALIST ESTABLISHMENT and we love our country. 

I didn't really need the car that day, so Lucy and I were going to skip our bike ride and just go for a walk. Instead I decided to ride my bike with Lucy over to the landlord's house to drop off our check. 

I'm pretty careful about my bike routes. I avoid traffic and ride on the sidewalk. I go at a pretty slow pace, not much faster than a slow jog so I can watch for danger and/or other dogs. My friends often ask me to go out for rides with them and I have to decline, my bike is old, has no gears, it's pretty heavy and it goes slow. (I just untyped a joke about it being "Just like me!" it was a little Joy Behar.)

Getting to the landlords house involved a small amount of danger on a route not many pedestrians frequent. I stayed off the main road until I couldn't avoid it any more. 

All was well for about 40 feet.

I came up to the exit of a gym came to almost a complete stop because a woman had stopped at the stop sign waiting to exit when traffic cleared. She looked at me, or I thought she did because she, you know, looked at me. I started to go because pedestrians have the right of way. They count as "traffic" actually.

As soon as I started to go she did too. I yelled, "HEY HEY NO NO NO" and kicked at her (very nice Mercedes) with my foot trying to get her to stop. 

It's a surreal feeling being knocked off your bike with a car. 

I'm not mad at that lady for hitting me with her car, for coming way too close to injuring me and my dog, for being careless in a way that would impact a whole lot of people in my life. No, I know that's a risk when you ride a bike in a region known as "The Motor City".

What I'm mad about is how she treated me after she knocked me into the middle of a very busy road, breaking my bike and crushing my skittish and insecure dog underneath it...with her car.

She got out of her car right away and started yelling at me not to move. I had landed on my hands and was sitting upright, Lucy was struggling to get out from under the weight of me and the bike. I tried to lift my body up so Lucy could get out from under the bike. 

And the woman kept telling me "DON'T MOVE! DON'T MOVE!"

So I thought, Okay, I must be bleeding somewhere I don't see because she is freaking out. Remember I was moving from a stop and so was she. In essence I fell off my bike...because of a car...but still. So I touch my head look at my arms, at my legs....nothing. But she keeps yelling at me not to move. 

I finally say, "Okay but I really need to get my dog out from under my bike and make sure she's okay."

She tries to get Lucy detached from the leash but can't figure out how it works and as I try to help her she keeps saying, "DON'T MOVE I DON'T WANT YOU TO MOVE!!!!"

...okay...but I'm sitting here in the middle of a busy road...are you trying to finish us off? 

We get Lucy detached and as I try to touch her she jumps away from me, scared, but now I'm convinced she's hurt, a broken leg? Rib? And I know she's "just a dog" and all those people watching this scene probably thought me totally nuts. But the adrenaline kicked in and I started to cry and panic a little. 

But this lady doesn't want me to move. I'm sitting in the road and she asks if I want an ambulance. I don't need an ambulance, I tell her, but I need to make sure my dog is okay. Again she tells me not to move. 

Soon the bystanders start to ask if I need help to move out of the road. I say, "No, but this woman is terrified of me moving." 

She starts to tell everyone standing around, "I offered her an ambulance...she doesn't want one." 

Over and over and over and over. As though by saying this it doesn't matter that she just knocked me off my bike with her car. She's absolved! Have a nice day! 

Never once does she ask if I'm okay. Never once did she say "I'm sorry." 

Her concern seems to begin and end with me laying in the road not moving and whether or not she offered to call an ambulance. Calling an ambulance is very difficult you realize, she really put herself out there.

Suddenly it occurs to me, Lady? You aren't in charge of me. So I move to the sidewalk and get Lucy untangled from her harness and quickly realize she's okay probably just shaken up like me. 

Having never been hit by a car I don't really know what to do next. And no one is doing anything but standing there looking at me. Someone from the gym has come out to see what's happened and she also stands there looking at me as I sit on the ground, sort of crying.

Over and over and over the woman keeps saying, "Well I offered to call her an ambulance."

I want to punch her in the mouth at this point. So I call Logan at his office hoping to get someone to this scene who knows what to do. I'm calling his phones and, as usual, he doesn't answer. I joke that Logan is seretly the janitor at his office since he's NEVER at his desk when I call. I call a coworker's number...but he doesn't answer either. 

I say to the Gym lady and the Don't Move Lady, "Should we call the police?"

But they both say no, no...you'll just need to file a report at the station....

And you know? What the holy Hell Melissa? YOU DON'T HAVE TO LISTEN TO THESE WOMEN. I don't know why I did. Weak or easily bossed around are not words anyone in my life would use to describe me. If anything you'd probably hear "A little hot under the collar" "Doesn't take shit." "Can be kind of a bitch."

And yet, I didn't call the police. 

I'm still on the phone and the whole time there's a running commentary from Don't Move Lady about how she offered to call an ambulance. She offered! HOLY HELL SHE OFFERED!!!!

Finally, the anger is rising in my voice and I say, "Look, I appreciate that you're a little shaken up that you've hit me with your car."

She interrupts, "I know you're angry with me."

I say, "I'm not angry because you hit me and my dog with your car. I'm angry because you won't stop talking about how you offered to call an ambulance. I don't need an ambulance it's great that you offered to call one but I don't need one. What i need right now is to know what I'm supposed to do now. I could use some help and you telling me you offered to call me an ambulance is not helping."

She stares at me, not saying anything so I say, "What would help me now is if you left. Leave me your name and number and just go."

She turns to Gym Lady and says, 'Okay, I'll go but I want you to be my witness that I OFFERED TO CALL HER AN AMBULANCE."

I don't need an ambulance. I need someone to fix my bike, I need someone to find my husband, I need a way to get home, I need someone to tell me my dog isn't bleeding internally.

We exchange names and numbers and she leaves.

I call the front desk at Logan's office and send someone to the meeting rooms to locate him. To keep the receptionist from being annoyed I may have told her I'd been hit by a car and needed to find my husband. Which was in essence true but made it sound like I'd been sprung across a car like a rag doll. 

Additionally Logan's a robot, if you want him to react you better make it sound good. You never know he may have a story about how he was hit by a car and got right back up and ran a marathon. 

So I get home, I call the vet, Lucy's fine. She spends a lot of the day hiding under the couch like she does when the kids argue. 

I'm fine too, just a little sore. The day after the bruises start to appear but even those aren't that bad. The thing that surprised me is how sore my biceps were. 

I'm sure it was from the adrenaline I felt through my body after it all happened. But I like to think it was from me resisting the very strong urge to punch Don't Move Lady.

Later in the day I file a police report, Logan calls Don't Move to make sure she gave me a real number. She doesn't answer. I trace her address via White Pages reverse phone look up. The listing has a different name attached to it. I'm concerned. 

Gym Lady calls to see how we're doing. I tell her we're fine, just a little sore. 

Nothing from Don't Move. 

I leave her another message giving her my police report number, asking her to verify her address and letting her know that my bike repair guy is seeing if he can repair my vintage bike. Oh, and by the way Lucy and I are okay. 

Nothing from Don't Move.

I leave another message letting her know that if I don't hear from her I'll have to approach this situation as a Hit and Run because I have no idea if this is her number. Please let me know if you have received these messages. 

She finally calls back and leaves a message. Telling me that she got our messages, to let her know what the bike repair shop says. And that she's glad everyone is okay.

If you ever hit someone with your car, promise me you'll say "I'm sorry"...a bunch of times. And treat the person you've hit with kindness. It's possible I could have sued her, I assume that's why she was so awful in the aftermath of the scene. 

Here's the thing, no one has ever been sued more for being kind.