it's just a walk in the (trailer) park

Spot #79. Agave Gulch Fam Camp. That's where you'll find me these days. That is, if you're wanting to deliver me a pizza or just drop by for a visit. What I have called home for going on 6 months now is a 5th wheel, toy hauler trailer. Yes, it's a camper. No, I'm not joking. I've had so many inquires about said living arrangement, that I decided to just go ahead and make it official by adding the experience to my reflections. For me. For the curious. And for some time in the future when trailer life will be just a distant memory....

Let me begin by mentioning that...I LOVE it. Yes, I LOVE it. No, I'm not joking. I love the fact that it always feels like I'm on a camping vacation. I love the 5th wheel itself. (Those who have pitied me have come by to find that this really is hardly "roughing it".) I love that we have 3 flat screen TVs in 39 feet. I love that it only takes me about 30 minutes to tidy up the place, including bathroom, kitchen, beds, and floor. I love that I finally have a place to put my, "If the trailer's rockin', don't bother knockin'" bumper sticker. I love that when I open the door I can see the bone yard with all of its retired aircraft standing like soldiers in the not-so-very distant distance. I love the noticeably absent yard work. I love that I can get six loads of laundry done at once in the beautifully maintained laundry mat for about $10. I love the sound of the rain against the fiberglass siding. I love the creative storage space. I love the girls' motorized queen-sized bunk beds. I love the fact that I can yell at the top of my lungs and still not be within earshot of a far-lefty. I love the way this lifestyle simplifies things in such a way that I can take my girls all over to explore and experience and not be tied to...housework. Stuff. Things. Belongings. Simply put, anchors.

Now keep in mind, lady and gentleman... (I don't want to presume that anyone besides Katie and my husband read this.) this is no ordinary "trailer park". I certainly couldn't go toe to toe with 'ol Marshall Mathers living on the 8 Mile stretch. Nope. When I sit out on my slab of pavement along with all of the others to watch the desert sun set, I see over a half a million bucks sitting on almost every spot. RVs that cost more than a decent house. Motorcycles, corvettes, scooters, Segways and one ton duallys, with clever witticisms plastered anywhere they fit... "gone4good, eat.sleep.jeep., C.U.LTR, Spending Our Kid's Inheritance, and the list goes on and on.... In my park, the average age of the other campers is about 3 decades older than I am.

But one particular evening, when the girls and I were out paying respect to the sky, I realized what I love the most about my current living arrangement. It was 5 o'clock. People had already been congregating on their designated slabs for some time because as one man told me, "When you're retired, every day's either a weekend or a holiday, depending if you can buy beer." And as the crackly speakers began to play aloud for all to hear one of my very favorite songs, our National Anthem, there was a hush. Everyone I could see around me got up, removed their hats, faced the music and proudly placed their hand over their hearts (including my two little ladies) and I had an overwhelming wave of emotion. Pride...maybe. Appreciation...most definitely.

This is what I'll take with me in my heart and in my memory when my trailer park life is finished. I had the pleasure and honor of living (quite literally) right smack dab in the middle of the greatest generation. To my right and to my left. Up the roads and throughout the park. I looked over at the Vietnam Navy pilot in front of me and the Korean war hero across the street and next door the retired marine who I swear I hear, "oohrah," faintly every time we pass. I looked at the group of ladies who constantly give me understanding looks about this military lifestyle we have in common, what it's like to be a single mom most of the time and having a husband with whom you share 70/30 with Uncle Sam. (For those of you who aren't familiar with military life, Sam gets the 70 and you're prying the 30 out of his greedy fist more often than not.)

It was then, at this sunset that I saw these people for who they really were. These were the people who helped to preserve all that I adore about my United States and made the life that I most often times ungratefully enjoy now possible. These are the people who did the work without whining about what they weren't getting and without the sense of entitlement that I've grown to despise in my own generation. They went where they were called. They served. They sacrificed at a time when serving was unpopular in wars that would never be won. And they did this for the chance to be part of something greater than themselves. These are the people who display limps and war wounds and horrible memories of war like the medals of honor they are, ever grateful for the unique opportunity to have participated in everything wonderful that was and is America.

Yes, it's cramped at times. Yes, it's extremely difficult to shave my legs without contorting into some seriously advanced yoga positions. Yes, meal time preparation isn't quite what it was in the enormous kitchen I had gotten incredibly accustomed to. Yes, I do miss my stuff. And yes, I do prefer to live in an actual house. But without a doubt... These are the days to remember.

three coins in a fountain...

As I dug in my wallet for pennies tonight for at least the fifth time this week, my two little beauties peered up at me anxiously (alright... impatiently) awaiting and certainly planning the wish that could only be granted with the sacrifice of a coin to a totally oblivious fountain of water. Under the enormous night sky which only the desert seems to be able to flaunt, four little eyes couldn't have been closed more tightly and two little hands couldn't have been more careful to aim and toss the unsuspecting coins into the water in exchange for the mere possibility of their simple wishes.

I was impatient. I was irritated. Why did wishing have to take so long anyway? Then I stopped. The real question was when did I lose that magic and mystery from childhood? In that instant, while waiting on wishes, I realized that I didn't remember feeling the magic and mystery from childhood. When I contemplate my youth, I remember stress, difficulty, fighting and a general feeling of helplessness. I remember feeling overwhelmed and scared and the last thing that my young mind would have thought to help was throwing a stupid coin in some water. Whoa...

And then before me, wishing away, were my two reminders. Of innocence. Of hope. Of possibilities. Of magic. Of mystery. There is something about looking into two pairs of eyes that reflect portions of your own soul that is just...mystery. These little girls are secure and confident. They are loved. They are cared for. They are innocent to the hard, cold realities of life. They are safe. And I get to be part of that. I have the opportunity to explain and explore, imagine and create endless possibilities and unbelievable opportunities. And that is just...magical. For them and for me.

So next time there is a bucket, a pond, a fountain...or a wishbone...or that first, brightest star, I will dig in my wallet for a third coin...grab what I hope is the largest side and pull...close my eyes and wish with all my might that my two little Lady Bugs will cling to the magic, mystery and innocence of their youth and will somehow manage to hold on to at least a teeny bit of that before it vanishes as quickly as their youth itself.

Next time, two coins each. Take your time, girls. And when you wish...wish BIG...

Some things I know for Sure (and a few things I'm currently hashing out)

Life is a journey... blah, blah, blah. Each day, most days unknowingly, we live out cliches, quips, quotes and proverbs that those who have gone before us have so generously taken the time to pen for us (sometimes even in iambic pentameter). I truly believe that if one were to adhere to some of these well, life just might be a bit more simple... saving our hearts a little pain and our heads a little confusion. However, I also believe that sometimes you just have to cowboy up and learn the lesson for yourself. Here are a few things that the rodeo of life has taught me.

~If it's not worth sweating for (physically, mentally, spiritually or emotionally) then it's probably not something to waste your time on.

~When you say, "Good-bye." to a bad habit, a bad influence or a bad relationship... mean it, move on and don't look back... Not doing so wastes lots and lots (and lots) of valuable time.

~Forgiveness and restoration.... not the same thing.

~If you're going to a function and you don't know how to dress... don't call all of your friends to find out what they are wearing. Wear whatever you want and whatever makes you feel great. Who the heck really cares if you're over or under dressed anyway?

~Jesus Christ is The Way, The Truth and The Life.... when you accept Him, life will not be easier... but you will have an abundant life that you never knew before and you will see a "big picture" you never knew existed.

~Chicken McNuggets may arguably be "nuggets," but they certainly are not chicken and are most likely not fit for human consumption.

~If the person who you think is your soul mate doesn't feel the same, then he is not your soul mate and you should be careful not to try to convince him (or yourself) that he is.

~Time may heal all wounds, but if you keep picking at the wounds and slamming your heart in the car door to see if it still hurts...well let me just say, that's a tall order for Time to heal...

~If the grass seems to always be greener on the other side, then you CLEARLY are not taking care of your own grass. That doesn't make the other side better, it just makes you lazy. Tend to your grass and watch it flourish... and perhaps you won't have the need to peep over the fence.

~I have absolutely no idea what, "Starve a cold, feed a fever." means and no one who has ever mentioned it to me knows either.... That being said, I think we should do away with it once and for all.

~If you had a terrible childhood.....good news! It's over.

~Show grace every single chance you get. It's the one truly amazing gift you can give to people living in a world in which there is so little.

~You never ever know who will save your life...and you never ever know when your life will need saving. Treat people accordingly.

...seeking friendship

Now what seems like a lifetime ago, life was simple. I loved life and loved people and something I enjoyed most was the diversity in both. I had friends of all types and all walks of life. Granted, some were closer than others, deeper and truer, while others were passing and more superficial. But the point is, I enjoyed each and every friendship and the impact that it had on my experience no matter how temporary or enduring. And in retrospect, the one thing I took for granted was how easy it was to find and enjoy these friends...

Today. As the last decade literally BLEW by, I take mental inventory of my life and friendships and am astonished at the changes that have happened while I apparently wasn't paying attention. So what have I learned? Two life changes (marriage and children) totally change the friendship experience. When it was just me, I could be friends with anyone... and the only ones that could say how far that friendship would take us were said friend and myself.

before...

SWF seeking friendship. Male or female accepted. All religious and social affiliations appreciated, but like-minded a bonus. Location not a factor as I am willing to travel.

add a ring and some vows and suddenly I became....

MWF seeking friendship. Couples preferred. Will accept singles, but males makes it a bit awkward on road trips. Both parties in the couple must be of sound mind and equally enjoyable. (We all have the couple friends that have an obvious "better half" who is more pleasant to be around and the other you would admittedly prefer to take their time parking the car.)

add a couple of tiny people into the mix and BAM! I'm...


MWFWK seeking friendship. Singles welcome but must be able to tolerate little kids oozing all sorts of bodily fluids and asking an incredibly enormous amount of questions, sudden changes in plans, not finishing a conversation and overall chaos without warning. Couples preferred. Similar interests a bonus. Both parties must be compatible with the two of us. Kids appreciated, preferably the same ages and genders as ours, although babysitting age would be greatly valued. Similar or extremely compatible religious and social affiliations would be greatly appreciated as I'm just too tired to argue these issues right now. Living close by not a requirement, but a huge plus as we are working around 4 schedules not including yours. Like-minded parenting a must. Smokers, vegans (I'm not trying to pick out tiny bacon pieces from a salad for you), crazies, non-disciplinarians and swingers need not apply.

So to my friends (and you know who you are), whether you're single, married or married with children and whether you're new or have hung on through the chapters with me... thank you... truly... thank you. Oh and please don't leave me because the vetting process is way too difficult and I'm way too tired to try to make new friends.

I Need A Hero

I do. Need one. But at very least, I suppose that I want to believe that there is one.

As I've grown up and out of my childhood fantasies of marrying Prince Charming, being a professional Ice Capades ice skater and living in a house made of cheese, I've come to realize that my perception of what a hero is has changed dramatically. No longer do I envision a spandex clad superhero swooping in at the last second, rescuing the damsel/kitten/elevator full of innocents only to wave, smile for some photo ops and disappear off into the sunset on his horse, web or Batmobile. I don't even imagine the suave James Bond, shaken (not stirred) martini in hand, helping the young (and always attractive) lady just long enough for a quick roll in the hay, all the while imparting his witty little one-liners to whomever will listen.

Nope. Those aren't heroes, those are distractions. All of the showiness and the huge, daring feats have their place, but once the crowd dies down and the mess is cleaned up, what are you left with? A man in spandex, ready to vanish without warning to the next crisis. In his attempt to save the world, you are left alone watching and waiting for his next grand entrance, not knowing when or if there will be one.

So then what is a hero? And this is what I answer... A hero says what he means and means what he says. A hero tells you the truth even when you want him to shut up, holds your hair when you throw up, and gives you the one good reason not to give up. A hero makes you want to be better and helps you figure out how to make that happen. A hero steps out of his comfort zone and learns how to feel comfortable in yours. A hero is the first to say I'm sorry and the last to say something that he knows he'll regret. A hero realizes the impact he has on those around him everyday and doesn't take that responsibility lightly. A hero under promises and over delivers. A hero doesn't wander in and out of your life, he is there days, weeks, months and years whether he's appreciated or not, because there's no where else he'd rather be.

Thank you. For knowing I was the one for you the moment we met. For your insight. For your friendship. For your omelets. For teaching me quadratic equations. For sharing your last name with me. For wearing pink princess band aides because two little girls put them on so lovingly. For being the anchor to my sail. For your graphs, spreadsheets and percentages. For your great big smile. For knowing that I'm a wild fire and choosing to continually fan the flames.

Thank you for being a hero... my hero.

I smell money.

The smell of money is fascinating to me. I'm not talking about the grimy $10 bill, crumpled in a pocket or the wad of ones caressingly slipped into "Velvet's" g-string. I'm talking money with a capital M. For me, distinguishing the unique and individual scents that comprise its smell is done in a similar fashion to distinguishing the fragrances of a full-bodied red wine. Just as I slowly inhale the rich scent of a deep merlot and am able to pick out its distinct hints of oak, grapes and nuts, I am able to close my eyes and identify some of the individual and complicated aromas that together become the smell of money.

Arriving at a girls' night out last night a little early, I found myself sitting and waiting at a rather upscale restaurant and thinking to myself, "I smell money." I knew the smell in an instant and immediately closed my eyes and began to recall other times I had the same olfactory experience. Inhale....leather. Leather bags, leather shoes, leather belts, leather wallets and leather interiors. Inhale....Chanel. No. 5, Mademoiselle, Coco and Allure. Inhale...meat. Prime rib, fillet mignon, Kobe, shrimp and lobster. Inhale....insecurity. Not having the newest one, the best one, the most coveted one. Inhale...exhaustion. Working, blood, sweat and tears, for what? Inhale.....emptiness. Buying, collecting, hoarding things that will not withstand the test of time. Inhale....jealousy. Of colleagues, ex's, trophy wives, friends and enemies.

It was last night it occurred to me the smell of money and the smell of wine share a commonness... a wonderfully, delicious aroma with bitter and fermented undertones.

Strange Relationship

"You're such a part of who I am,
please don't disappear," you say
But you're the one who always vanishes
and goes so far away.

And again I stand in disbelief,
holding broken heart in hand.
Bleeding, wrestling, racking my mind
trying to understand.

Your love and our connection draw me in,
not just part, but all.
But as quickly as you come, you go
before you have chance to fall.

Time after time and page after page
we do this very dance,
Who we are stays in place, the change?
our circumstance.

And now that we've nowhere to go,
your safety net's in place.
You know you will never give in to the need,
you will always have your space.

I'll never be "the one" for here,
now something I know for sure,
But this masochistic addiction I have,
remains without a cure.

So I'll soak and bask in every second we have,
until you suddenly grow cold.
And then again I'll patiently wait
for "forever" to unfold.

But this time when you leave,
and I know you will,
Please run fast and far and then
run further still.

And with you take my memory
of every loving tragedy
and all the promises you kept or broke
and all the passion you felt or spoke.

And when my heart heals again,
and I begin anew,
Congratulations...I'll continue being Mrs. Him
while she'll go on being Mrs. You.