<..: Ramblings of An Overtired Mommy :..>

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Friday, May 27, 2005

Well, there are so many things I’ve thought about in the last 24 hours to share, but miraculously I am blank and can’t remember.
For those of you who know me IRL, you will know that it is a rare occurrence that I don’t have something to say, even if it’s just a snide little comment laced with foul language (my one bad habit).
So, I’ll try to remember all the ultra-important things I wanted to discuss with my loyal readers.
While it’s fresh on my mind, I’ll discuss something that Julie made me think of earlier with her post. Why is it that people see a baby as an open to nose into your life. As I was checking out my diaper rash cream at Wal Mart last night (along with some awesome new Almond Joy cookies), the cashier must have asked me a million questions. “Where does he get his beautiful eyes?” (Was she implying that mine were anything less than beautiful?) “What’s his name?” “That’s an unusual name” (This was said with a face that would lead you to believe that I had named my child something along the lines of Gynoherpasyphilles Lemonjello Orangello Smith or something) “How did you come up with that name?” (I should have told her that his real dad who I was having an affair with picked it out and I named him that so that his real father could feel like he had a connection since everyone thinks my husband is the father…lol…wonder how long it would take for that rumor to circulate Mayberry) “How old is he?” “He sure is big for his age!” (No he isn’t. He doesn’t even weigh 21 pounds! Have you ever had children? I mean, really!!)
But of course, throughout this interrogation that the dude on Meet the Fockers would have been proud of, I just smiled, politely came up with an answer that didn’t have the phrase, “you stupid bitch” attached to the end, and went on my merry way.

After telling you all about the trashy trailer people in our town, I thought I’d share a few more quirky stories from Hicksville. We have many strange characters that are a fixture of our town, much like a “Welcome to (insert town’s name here)” sign or the local Wal Mart.
The first of these characters (and my absolute favorite) is James. James was a really nice hard working husband and father of two (I think) girls who lived close to where I live now about 30 years ago. He was in a bad car accident which destroyed a large portion of his brain and he had to have metal plates inserted. Now before you start telling me what a bad person I am for making fun, that’s not the case at all. I like James. I treat him with respect, but can’t help but laugh at some of his antics.
You see, James believes he is the next best thing to Elvis where dancing is concerned. Picture a 70-something year old man in tattered clothes, a jagged toothed smile, and dark blue house shoes doing a little dance I like to call “stomping the ants”. He taps his foot around in a circle in front of him, similar to that of a 3 year old child, with a huge smile on his face and a cup of coffee in each hand.
Coffee it seems, is one of the few joys in James’ life. Anywhere that there is free coffee, you can bet you’ll see James. He’s been known to go to the local sheriff’s office and fill 2 cups halfway full for each of his pants pockets, and get 2 full cups for each of his hands and take them to his car where he savors each sip of coffee until it’s all gone and he starts the process over again.
Once, while at a high school fundraiser in which an aspiring country music artist put on a small concert, James decided to stand in front of the stage and dance. The principal (also the musician’s father) asked James to sit down or leave. James told ms and my cousin Michael, “Elvis stole the show from everyone else and he came up dead. If something happens to me tonight and I die, you’ll know who did it”, and he pointed to the principal.
Another fixture, or fixtures I should say, of our town are the "Smith" family. There were 4 or 5 brothers and a sister. Sadly, I think only 3 of the brothers, and the sister, L, are left. They are all in their 70s or 80s I guess, and their parents were double first cousins. Only one of the children was "normal", all the rest were deaf mutes.
I've often found that people with disabilities bring out the best in other people. Maybe that's their purpose in life. That is definitely the case with this family. My neighbor, S, lives beside the brothers' trailer. I'm not sure if the brothers own the land or he allows them to use it. I would bet on the latter of the two. Anyway, the 3 brothers I know, C, S, and B (not sure if he's still alive) lived in the trailer and eventually one of them ended up in the nursing home. So, I'm not sure if C lives there by himself now or with just one of the brothers. L lives in a nursing home.
The community I live in is small and very backwards and frustrating most of the time, but sometimes surprises me and makes me proud. The whole community has developed their own little way of communicating with this family. Through a mixture of facial expressions and hand motions, we have developed our own little sign language. The boys (men I guess) have always been valued members of the morning coffee club and L used to sew for the neighborhood families when I was little. I think she even sewed some dresses for me. She also makes the most beautiful quilts I've ever seen! Anytime the brothers are out and about, they are greeted so warmly that an outsider might think that they were some overly important person. In a way, I guess they are, especially to Garrison. C communicates with a series of grunts and squeals which have excited Garrison to no end. He loves C and C's face lights up at the sight of Garrison. They seem to communicate in their own little language which leaves both of them smiling "like a possum eating briars".
In a society where children are quickly ushered away from those with disabilities for fear that they may say something inappropriate or be scared or where people try not to make eye contact for fear that they might not know how to interact with those less fortunate, I'm very proud that my son, and our whole community, takes the time to interact with the "Smiths". I think that things like that teach tolerance alot better than any classroom or instructional video can.
Well, I think I’ll leave on that note today. I hope everyone has a wonderful holiday weekend. Don’t forget to take a moment to remember all those who have made our freedom possible.
Melissa

Melissa @ 8:38 AM | comment

~IntrO~

Melissa
Melissa-Mom to LittleMan (4/04); wife to LuckyHusband; full-time toxicologist; full-time housekeeper; full-time domestic laundromat manager (washes all the clothes); full-time domestic finance manager (pays all the bills and yells at husband for spending too much money on fishing stuff); and Keeper of the Cheerios. Lives in a tiny town; spends tons of time with family; reads; enjoys crafts. Can change a diaper, fill a sippy cup, and put on a toddler's shoes in 15.4 seconds flat, all while calculating the impact of petroleum hydrocarbons to a nearby surface water body (watch for me in the Toddler Olympics on CBS this fall). Addicted to Dr. Pepper; Kit Kats; and pasta. To spot me in a crowd: I'm the one with frizzy messed-up hair, smeared graham crackers on my shirt; huge purse with a diaper peeking out, toddler on her hip, and camera in hand at all times.

~ArchiveS~

May 2005 June 2005 July 2005 August 2005 September 2005 October 2005 November 2005 December 2005 January 2006 February 2006 March 2006 April 2006

~Stars of my ShoW~

LittleMan

LuckyHusband

Hooker (pictured with LittleMan)

Hooker

Scuba Steve (pictured with LittleMan and myself)

Scuba Steve

~ReadS~