Don’t cuss Mom because she probably has already done it herself. Here’s why.
Maybe she forgot to thaw the meat out for supper and we had cereal again. Maybe she is out of ideas and is tired of hearing “I don’t like that!” or “I don’t want to eat that!”
Maybe she’s got a full-time job and is plumb wore out mentally when she picks the kids up and heads home for the evening. One more “why can’t I?” might just send her over the edge.
Maybe she’s worried about how to pay this bill or how to float the checking account until the next pay day. Or she’s checked the bill schedule three times to make sure she’s paid what has to be paid first.
Maybe she’s not the skinny girl any more who can’t fit into her size 5 jeans she has boxed up in the closet she wishfully thinks might fit again some day. They might just be back in style by the time that happens.
Maybe she’s the one doing all the chores again with little help. What’s she going to get out of it? She surely doesn’t know as she dumps that feed bucket or folds the endless mountain of laundry. At least everyone is fed and taken care of and won’t starve for one more day.
Maybe she’s the one who questions her every thought and action as a mother. “Do I yell too much?” “Should I have been that harsh?” Has she accepted she won’t win any mother of the year any time soon?
Maybe she wants nothing more than to have 10 minutes to herself and not have to worry about a single thing. That could possibly include a soft couch and a cold beer.
Every mother is different. Some are kind and sweet. Some are stern and strong. Some are brave and bold. They end up being the kind they need to be. At least this one is.
Last week it was six months since the fires. Six months since my Dad died. I chose not to write anything about it or even mention it on social media. A couple friends did and I just read what they wrote and kept scrolling.
I’m not going to lie, but it’s been hard. This year hasn’t been very kind to my family. I wrote something for my work blog and don’t really want to rehash it here, but it needed to be wrote. If you care to read it, it’s located here.
I offered advice to my readers about family farming disputes, and I honestly think my advice can apply to about any situation regarding family. The last paragraph sums it up pretty well.
“Communicate. Plan. Discuss. Avoiding the tough conversation of who “gets the farm or ranch” won’t solve anything. Everything comes at a price. An open, honest conversation costs nothing.”
My mother recently told me I need to help her clean out the closet I used during my years at home. I made an excuse—where am I going to put it in my own house?—and haven’t broached the subject again. I really don’t want to go through that stuff. I know what’s there. One day when I’m really ambitious, I will sort through my stuff. Hopefully it’s sooner rather than later.
I also made the same comment to my two boys that we needed to sort through their toys and gift some of them to my friend’s little boy. You would have thought I suggested giving their “baby horse” or “blankley” to him. Not what I was suggesting to them at all, but somehow I got them energized enough to clean the playroom enough to get it organized. One of these days when it’s too cold to do much outside, I will send them with their Dad and I will sort and purge. Then get the box of toys to my friend.
The debacle with the playroom and toys seriously made me consider not buying any more toys for Christmas and birthdays. I do think the youngest is too young to appreciate doing “experiences” for gifts instead of physical toys that will just take up space and drive his mother crazy. But I’m considering tucking away part of the money spent on toys and creating a fund for experiences. Trips to the zoo or amusement park; a family vacation or trip somewhere out of state; even a train or plane ride.
I’m a crappy housekeeper, and the toys just seem to multiply. Same with the dirty socks, granola bar wrappers and stickers. It’s just hard to keep up. If you have thoughts or ideas about curbing the overabundance of toys in my house I’m all ears.
In the month plus since my Dad has died, I’ve had more than a few instances where I desperately wanted to pickup the phone and ask him something. Car is making a funny noise, ask Dad. Tires are wearing funny, ask Dad. The neighbor has a new pickup, ask Dad where it came from. He’d know.
My husband and I were coming back from the dentist office and noticed a shed along the highway getting new metal siding. I thought the property was owned by someone else, he thought the guy using it owned it. Without even missing a beat, I said, I bet Dad would know. Then I sighed. My Dad was a bit of a gossip and loved to find information out before anyone else.
The other day a coworker asked where my Dad’s name Valere came from. I don’t recall any conversation besides the one where we were told his mother came up with it. So off to Google it I go. Valere is Latin and means to be strong or be well. In French it means brave. I like the second meaning better. Dad was brave. He wasn’t always right, but he did what he wanted and lived life his way. To me that’s brave.
Lately I’ve been going through some issues in my personal life and they’ve all seemed to heap on me at once. I was looking for verses, quotes and sayings on Pinterest and the Be Brave ones just really struck me. I even created a cover photo for my Facebook page that says just that. I don’t like change. I don’t like stepping out of my comfort zone. I also don’t like people who are mean and do things to hurt others. I’m trying really hard to forgive a couple of those people, but it’s just easier to forget them. I have to be brave to do that.
I’d also been sitting on a couple of voice mail messages that I couldn’t make myself listen to. Mostly because they were from my Dad. My phone has been giving me the dreaded “storage is full” and I’ve been trying to clean it up since I’m too cheap to get a new phone right now and don’t want to lose any of the 4,000-some odd photos I have on there. So one night when I was feeling particularly down, I was brave and listened to them. Same old Dad message, “Kylene, this is your Dad. Call me back.” But this time I could hear the age in his voice. I could hear the sickness. I could hear all the things I never wanted him to be. Especially gone.
Those phone messages are still there. I was brave enough to listen to them again, but I’m not brave enough to delete them. They just might migrate to a new phone when I decide to purchase another. I’ve got plenty of room for the next photos for now. I don’t have to be brave all at once.
Dad and I during the Father-Daughter dance at my wedding, July 18, 2009.
My 3-year-old son, Chance, has been saying, “I don’t get it” for the past couple of weeks. I’m not real sure when he picked it up or why he continues to say it. Makes me think he knows a lot more than I give him credit for.
Does he understand why his Mom and Dad have been stressed?
Does he understand his Grandpa Orebaugh died and he won’t see him any more? Does he understand why Grandma is sometimes sad?
Does he know the farm burned to the ground and he won’t get to spend the time in the same places his Dad did?
Does he know his Mom and Dad are trying to continue a legacy?
I sure hope he understands these things. Well not right now, but in time. I hope he understands we are doing the best we can for him and his brother.
Families sometimes suck. Friends sometimes suck. Some people just suck. When times get tough the true colors and friends will show. Those who care will be there. Those who have nothing to gain by helping won’t. Those who care will pray. Those who don’t won’t.
I don’t get why people change face and leave behind the ones they once cared for. I don’t get how people let money get in the way of their happiness. I don’t get why our most favorite people have to leave us and leave messes behind.
I don’t get it either Chance.
My blog will be 5 years old on Jan. 11, 2017. Initially, it started as a way to get out the many thoughts I had swirling around in my head. It helped me get through maternity leave when my first son was born in May 2011. Same with the second in February 2014. It helped me get through the death of my father-in-law and other family and friends. More often than not, I write about subjects that annoy me or make me think, and often times others share my same thoughts and ideas.
Last week before the new year, I decided to go back and look at the statistics for my site. In 2016, I had one of the most viewed blog posts ever, I’m a rural voter. It had 6,517 views. I was completely blown away when it got shared and shared and shared again. In the history of my blog, I’d never had that kind of exposure. It also made me think about the subjects I write about on my blog and how they resonate with readers.
In 2016, I’d only written 11 blog posts, but garnered 8,415 views, most because of the rural voter post. Previously, the most views I’d gotten was 2,922 in the first year of blogging. I’d written 78 posts. So, I guess you can say, I’ve learned that less is more.
Here’s the top 6 posts in 2016:
- I’m a rural voter
- January 21
- Out of my comfort zone
- Losers live forever
- There’s always something new
- Thank you
I’d like to thank those who have taken the time to read my posts, and/or comment on them. Its amazing when people can relate to my thoughts and ideas. If you have any questions or ideas for me, just let me know. I look forward to interacting more with readers. Happy New Year!
This past summer I was asked by one of my best friends to take her engagement photos. I told her sure, but I wasn’t making any promises on how good they’d turn out! Ha! But they turned out just fine. Better than I was expecting. I was pretty proud of them and asked her if I could share them on social media. Of course, she said. I was stoked at the reaction I’d gotten from friends, family and her contacts. I’d gotten energized about my photography again.
So when a long-time friend asked to take her family photos a couple of months later, I agreed and again prefaced it with, “I’ll do my best.” The stars must have been aligned that afternoon. I had a babysitter. The grass was green and my subjects were stunning. Since she lived over an hour away I took my computer with me so she could look and pick out her favorites. Even though it was late when I finally got home, I knew I’d gotten something spectacular for her and her family. I couldn’t sleep that night because I was so jazzed about the images I’d captured for them. And again, I posted on social media and got rave reviews.
After the engagement session and then the family session, I thought maybe this was something I can do to get my creativity flowing again. Something for me to do on nights and weekends to give me an outlet. Lord knows I need it.
So Kylene Scott Photography was born. For now, I’m focusing on southwest Kansas, mostly around Dodge City. I’m willing to take photos of families, kids, agricultural subjects or animals. I’ve taken baby photos of my own hooligans, but never for anyone else. And I don’t have all the neat props. I don’t have a studio either, but I do have a couple hundred acres of pasture and grasslands at my disposal. I love the golden hour and totally dig taking advantage of it.
If you feel inclined go checkout my work that I’ve showcased on my Kylene Scott Photography Facebook page. If you know of anyone in my area, send them my way!
Definition of APPRECIATION
a : judgment, evaluation; especially : a favorable critical estimate
b : sensitive awareness; especially : recognition of aesthetic values
c : an expression of admiration, approval, or gratitude
After being gone for nearly a full week for a work event, I was thinking about how to show my appreciation to those around me. While I was gone, my husband and the rest of my family pitched in to take care of things on the home front. I even brought home some tokens of my appreciation to help try to repay them. Although to some a $10 t-shirt may not be the same monetarily as the time and money they spent covering for me, it’s the thought that counts. Right? I spent countless hours walking to and from shops in Albuquerque and Santa Fe looking for the right gifts that fit my budget and that I thought they would like to own. Tough work huh? I love each person who helped me out and sure appreciate all they did for me while I was gone and every other time they help me out. And for some of them, it is quite often!
As the middle child, I often feel like I am forgotten. My husband, although raised similarly, he too is a middle child and has the same feelings about being over looked as I do. So it’s easy for me to feel under appreciated and overlooked. I’m not a big talker – I listen – and only try to express my opinions when something really strikes a chord with me. I don’t talk just to talk. Vicious little cycle.
As I mentioned before, I try to find a way to express my appreciation for those around me, but recently I have encountered some not-so-nice people in my life and it makes it very hard for me to continue for them to be in my life. It’s tough when you have to deal with someone who is so self-absorbed that they really, truly can’t see the damage they are doing to themselves and those they chose to surround themselves with.
So instead of sitting here and wondering how to handle this person who has no appreciation for anything I am going to do my best to ignore them and not fuel the fire. It’s their problem, and no longer mine. This is what I am choosing today, stolen from another friend’s Facebook. It seemed very appropriate for the thoughts and feelings swirling around in my brain today.