The first tangible gift I remember receiving was for the Christmas of 1970. I would have been two at the time and at that point in my life Christmas represented all that was truly magical. At the tender ago of two I don’t recall what I asked Santa Claus for, but I do know that what I received provided years of happy memories from then on.
According to the home movie that documented the event, my stylish mother was perfectly coiffed and dressed in a stylish mini skirt and knee high go-go boots. Let’s face it, she was only 29 in 1970 and from what I can remember and see from the movie…she was pretty cool! My blond hair was swept up in a rumpled ponytail, and I looked as if I had just tumbled out of bed in my white form fitting footed pajamas and raced to the living room to discover all Santa had left.
I excitedly tore the colorful wrapping paper from my many gifts and was thrilled to find not only a Fisher Price house, but also a Fisher Price barn! Many other gifts came before and after…but I kept going back to the fascinating barn and house. I remember when the door opened a loud mooing could be heard and taking great delight in opening and closing it. The doorbell rang on the little house, and the garage door came up! I sat up that little house and barn just as I wanted and took great delight in having the little family visit the animals and tend to them. They would have supper in the little kitchen, and then go to the living room to watch TV. After a while the mommy and the daddy would kiss the kid good night and tuck him into bed. It was a perfect ending to a perfect day that would be recreated over and over with slight variations over the years. Later on in the movie, even my older sister who would have been about 9 looked pretty into my presents too!
The little house and barn were my favorite toys until I discovered Barbie. Until then, I loved to play and pretend. Who would have guessed that my favorite things to play all those years ago would be a precursor to how my own life would turn out? Even today I am still playing house, only with real kids and instead of having farm animals I spend my time taking care and tending my dogs and cats. Years later after my daughter was born, I brought my Fisher Price barn and house down from the attic for her to play with while we visited my Dad‘s house. I loved lying on my stomach on the floor and helping her set everything up just like I had done so many times and so many years ago. My Dad encouraged me to fill my old room with toys for my daughter so she would have her own special place to play when we came to his house. She loved it and still remembers her special toy room at Pa Pa’s house.
Sadly, after my dad died my sister made sure those favorite toys were sold at auction. I know I can’t hold onto everything forever, but I would have loved to have still had those two special toys from one of my first Christmas’s. Thank G0d, she couldn’t take away my memories and sell them. They would have brought a lot more money, because in my opinion…they are priceless. That is all I have until the next time when I give you another glimpse into the life of a trucker’s wife.
When I was a little girl it was a big deal to make a Christmas list every year. My mom and dad always encouraged me to. They cared about what I wanted for Christmas and moved heaven and earth to ensure that my Christmas wishes were realized. I would think long and hard about it often scanning the toy catalogs for ideas. Then I would present it to my mom and hope for the best. I always memorized the things I wanted most and made sure I told Santa Claus when I visited him, just to be on the safe side.
As I grew older things began to change. Once my mom died, my dad took over the task of collecting Christmas lists. By then I was an adult, and my dad put a money limit to how much he was willing to spend for each of us. I would scour the Sunday ads of the newspapers for all the sales flyers and give my Dad the heads up for where he could find what I wanted for the cheapest price. Unlike my sister who was only ever interested in cold hard cash, I wanted presents to open!! I would construct my list showing the items I wanted including where he could find them on sale. Might as well get as much out of that dollar amount as I could, right?? I still was surprised, because I never knew what my dad would choose to get me off my list. Where my dad put a limit to what he intended to spend, my mother took my Christmas list and usually got every single thing on it plus. To say Christmas’s were merry and bright at our house was an understatement.
Once both my parents were no longer living, the task of fulfilling Christmas wishes fell to my husband and me. As you get older you begin to understand how it all works. You still keep the spirit and fun of Santa Claus alive for your children, but you begin to pray for Christmas miracles and do the best you can to ensure your kids have a Merry Christmas. My kids haven’t produced a “list”, because I am sure they trust that I already know what they like and would want. Not only that, they know that Santa Claus knows what they want as well as how naughty or nice they have been. When I seen this challenge, I hesitated even writing it because I know the need for Christmas lists went out the window with our growing maturity and sense of responsibility to ensure we have a roof over our heads, heat, electric, and food in our bellies. After all, Christmas is only one day a year. You still need to eat, have shelter, and the bills paid regardless. Bill collectors don’t care if it is Christmas. They want paid. Period. Kind of heartless like Scrooge, but a fact of life.
So this Christmas, my list has dwindled to a few things. Honestly, I don’t even have a list . I know all to well the state of the checkbook and the ever growing pile of bills. It almost seems pointless to make a list. Still, since I am pressed to make a list I want everyone in my little family to have something to open on Christmas day plus a Santa sock filled with small treasures and surprises. I want a Christmas meal with all the trimmings. Most of all, I want to be home enveloped in love, laughter, and happiness enjoying it all with my husband and children. Bless my sweet husband, he has always managed miracles and made sure each Christmas was better than the one before. He is my Mr. Make it Happen, my special Santa Claus.
Since I am leaving it to chance, I will just have to see what transpires. That is all I have to say until next time when I give you another glimpse into the life of a trucker’s wife.
All during school I was constantly infatuated with someone. In my junior and senior year of high school my affections focused on one particular boy. I am ashamed to admit I chased him around school with big love sick puppy dog eyes with my tongue hanging out and drooling. Looking back, I was so pathetic!!
He was the stereotypical jock. He was quarterback of the football team, played basketball, and baseball. I didn’t have any classes with him that I can recall but that didn’t stop me from drooling over him and pursuing him with a vengeance. At the time I thought he was the next best thing to sliced bread. Being so athletic, he was muscular, tall, dark and handsome. All my school girl fantasies revolved around him. The only real problem with him that ever came to light was that he was head over heels in love with someone else and took great delight in telling me about it. Glutton for punishment that I was, I would call him up on the phone and listen to him go on and on about HER. UGH!!
Stupid me. I joined the pep club so I could be his locker pal. What that meant was that before every game I would decorate his locker. Since I was so artistic, I had no problem making each weeks locker decoration a virtual masterpiece. I even baked him brownies more than once. I bought season tickets for football, basketball, and baseball and went to every single game to cheer him on. It felt like everyone there knew I was there for him, which in hindsight made it even more embarrassing.
There were definite highlights to my pursuit. In senior year, the football team beat a powerhouse of a rival. The student body jumped the field in their exuberance to congratulate the team and celebrate. I made a beeline for him and tackled him. Yes I admit it! I took my opportunity, ran with it, and jumped his bones rolling around in the mud!! It gave me the perfect excuse, and I took it!! All these years later, I still remember how fun that was.
By my senior year my affection began to wane due to his constant proclamations of love for this other girl. He never asked me out, never asked me to the winter formal, or the prom. He took her. Go figure. I stayed home. By graduation, I had given up the ghost realizing that it had been a worthy pursuit…but it was over.
The following fall I was home from college and went to a basketball game. To my shock he came up to me and embraced me. I will never forget it. He was all over me like a bad rash. As we sat on the bleachers he told me how he had went to see that girl and found her with someone else. He was devastated and was looking to me for comfort. I could have took this opportunity and ran with it. All those years of rejection welled up inside me at that moment and I blew him off and was happy to do so. I have to admit that I took complete pleasure in turning the tables on him and being a complete bitch.
Although I have always felt a little guilty for the way I treated him on that night, the other part of me feels vindicated and was more than happy to move on. His shiny armor had fallen and revealed the a$$ he had always been in glaring light. It made me wish I hadn’t wasted all of high school pining for someone who didn’t give a tinker’s damn if I lived or died. Sure, he was gorgeous…but in the end he really wasn’t very nice at all.
He broke my heart with his rejection and in hindsight all these years later I can’t imagine what I seen in him! If it hadn't hurt so bad at the time, it wouldn’t be called a crush would it?? Thank heavens my husband came along and swept me off my feet so I could finally know what it felt like to be loved and cherished. It is good to know that there is a soul mate for everyone and you probably won't find him the first place you look. Until next time when I give you another glimpse into the life of a truckers wife.
Can you honestly remember what you were doing and where you were a year ago?? I am lucky to remember what I did yesterday, or even where in the world my husband said he was 5 minutes ago. I guess I am to poor to pay attention. Either that or my head is so far up my a$$ on most days that it would take an elephant sized piece of machinery to dig it out. Perhaps it is simply memory loss, or perhaps it is just nothing that exciting happens that often, so why bother to remember??
Not sure how my screwy brains work when it comes to memory, but most of the time most information goes in one ear and rides the old express train right straight out the other side. It could be there is not enough sticky goo in between my ears to soak it all in. I swear most of my brain cells went into my last baby. Maybe Alzheimer’s is setting in! Now that is just scary! Regardless, when this week’s challenge for the GBE2 was posted as “One Year Ago”, I have to admit I panicked! If I were a dude, I would have been scratching my head and my nuts on this one. As it is, I was really close to pleading the fifth on the whole challenge and not submitting a thing. Where is the fun in that though??
Like many of my colleagues, I could have jumped on the old9/11wagon and wrote about what I was doing when the worst tragedy in American history occurred since the bombing of Pearl Harbor. I however, have to be just a little different than the average bear! What would be the fun in doing whatever everyone else is doing?? I remember being glued to the television screen like everyone else in our country horrified and unable to believe that what I was watching wasn’t just a product of Hollywood. 14 years ago I was busy taking the vows, and cruising around Put-in-Bay, Ohio with my husband enjoying my honeymoon. Amazing how a person can remember things that happened that long ago so clearly and can be completely clueless about what happened a year ago, yesterday, or last week!!
The challenge, for better or for worse, was a year ago. Last year I wrote a post about my anniversary, reminiscing about my wedding day. Life rambles on day in and day out with very little change. Rest assured if a big birdie flies over and drops money on my head or takes a crap, you will be the first to know!! So maybe I can’t remember specifically what happened a year ago, but I do remember the beauty of my wedding, the terror of 9-11, and exactly how I felt when my kids were born. I remember the important things in life, the biggies, and the hum drum rest gets lost in transition. That is my story and I am sticking to it!! Until next time when I give you another glimpse into the life of a trucker’s wife.
Like many of my colleagues, I could have jumped on the old 9/11 wagon and wrote about what I was doing when the worst tragedy in American history occurred since the bombing of Pearl Harbor. I however, have to be just a little different than the average bear! What would be the fun in doing whatever everyone else is doing?? I remember being glued to the television screen like everyone else in our country horrified and unable to believe that what I was watching wasn’t just a product of Hollywood. 14 years ago I was busy taking the vows, and cruising around Put-in-Bay, Ohio with my husband enjoying my honeymoon. Amazing how a person can remember things that happened that long ago so clearly and can be completely clueless about what happened a year ago, yesterday, or last week!!
The challenge, for better or for worse, was a year ago. Last year I wrote a post about my anniversary, reminiscing about my wedding day. Life rambles on day in and day out with very little change. Rest assured if a big birdie flies over and drops money on my head or takes a crap, you will be the first to know!! So maybe I can’t remember specifically what happened a year ago, but I do remember the beauty of my wedding, the terror of 9-11, and exactly how I felt when my kids were born. I remember the important things in life, the biggies, and the hum drum rest gets lost in transition. That is my story and I am sticking to it!! Until next time when I give you another glimpse into the life of a trucker’s wife.