A Work at Home Mom’s Blog

My cousin had a baby last week. It’s a little girl. I hope I get to go see her before too long, but I don’t know how soon I’ll get up there. She lives near my mom, and as infrequently as I’ve been visiting her lately, it may be a while.

I’d love to be able to get her something really nice and cool, like a Stokke Tripp Trapp high chair. But the best I’ve been able to do so far is pitch in on a gift card for her. And I haven’t actually pitched in on that yet, even though she already has it.

I’d see all of my family more if money were no object. But unfortunately it is. I’m looking forward to the day when I can just pick up and go wherever, whenever I want to. I don’t know when that day will be, but I’m trying to keep the faith that it will come.

Sometimes I just can’t help feeling like I’m somehow behind everyone else, especially my siblings. Both of them have recently built houses (my sister’s being about 10,000 square feet), and are doing quite well for themselves. And here I am, finally becoming a homeowner, but barely scraping by in the process.

While they’re comparing home entertainment systems and considering Caribbean cruises, I’m wondering where the money to pay the electric bill is going to come from. When I get to thinking about it, it really gets me down.

I know, I should be thankful for what I have. And I am. And I honestly know that I’m not worthless just because they have more money than me. I have a great family, I’ve turned something I love to do into a career (although it’s not going great right now), and I have a roof over my head. I really should stop comparing myself to them.

I’m going to be cutting it really close this time, but so far I’ve managed to post every day this time around in NaBloPoMo. Yay me!

So I left off in the saga of the various homes I’ve had where I was moving back in with my parents. I would have preferred to bite copper nails in two, but that’s the one place I’ve always been welcome, no matter how at odds we were. Seeing how I didn’t have anywhere else to go, I bit the bullet and went back.

Things were a little better that time. Mom quit waiting up on me or insisting that I wake her up when I came in, something that drove me nuts when I was there before. I didn’t mind it when I was in high school, but I was in my twenties when I moved out the first time. Come on.

They did want to know if I wasn’t coming home at all, but at least they didn’t raise cane and demand to know where I was so they could come get me (like they had frequently done before). So while things were less than ideal, it wasn’t as bad as I imagined it would be.

My job was in the area where I now live, about an hour and a half from the parents. The pay was horrible, but I was gaining some management experience and decided to keep it until I found something else. But I ended up meeting a sweet young man, and started spending much of my time on this side of the state line. I wasn’t even remotely looking for a relationship, but we clicked and became good friends. I started spending a few nights a week with a mutual friend of ours (whom he was also staying with) to save gas and give me somewhere to hang out that I could stay out of trouble.

That eventually led to me moving yet again, and I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow.

The first place I called home was, of course, where I grew up. My family moved in when I was six months old, so I have no recollection of where I lived before that.

That was the first, and only place my mom and dad ever owned. It was in rural southwest Virginia, and it was right up the hill from my paternal grandparents. They had given (or maybe sold, I’m not sure) my dad some land, and they bought a mobile home to put up there. But it was a three bedroom model, and there were the two of them plus three kids. My big sister graciously shared her room with me until I was about 6, and then they built on.

My dad did most of the work himself. He added on two more bedrooms and a den/dining room. He did a great job, but I’m not surprised. He was one of those guys that could do just about anything he set his mind to. He became a trucker before I was born and made it his career, but he had done all sorts of stuff before that. And the things he hadn’t done just seemed to come to him naturally anyway.

The place where we lived was pretty peaceful. It was on a hill at the end of a dead-end non-state maintained road. We had a big front yard, and nothing but mountains behind us. When I was young, most of the neighbors were awesome. I spent a lot of time at my mamaw’s, and I sometimes went to my cousin’s house to visit his wife (she was a sweetheart, but I never cared much for him). One of the neighbors at the other end of the road had an above-ground pool, and they invited me down to swim in the summers. The ones across the road from them had two girls who were a little younger than me, and I went down and played with them often.

Things have changed in that little hollow over the years. The neighbors with the pool and the kids moved. Not far, but far enough not to be my neighbors any more. There have been a few move-ins and move-outs since then, but one place is now abandoned and the other is now home to some really major snobs. My cousin’s wife died in a car crash. My mamaw also passed on, and they rented her place out for a while and eventually sold it to friends of my dad. They were nice, but they bought another place a few years ago and gave that one to their daughter. And she has let it go way downhill. It’s practically uninhabitable now, but she still lives there.

My dad passed away three years ago. So now it’s just Mom up there on the hill. At least it’s still pretty peaceful up there. She doesn’t have much to do with the neighbors, just keeps to herself and has friends over every now and then. I don’t get up there much because of life and gas prices, my sister lives 4 hours away but gets up there when she can, and my brother doesn’t live too far off from her. He sees her the most of any of us, but he has a busy life too.

So there’s my first home post. Hope I didn’t bore you to death with it. Things will get more interesting with the next couple, so stay tuned.

My sister called me a few days ago. I was sick in bed, but I talked to her anyway. I only get a call from her maybe two or three times a year, and she is impossible to get ahold of, so I take what I can get.

She was calling me to congratulate me on my new home. That’s nice. I’d rather be moving into the place she’s going to be moving into in a couple of months or so, though. Her husband is a contractor, and he built a 10,000 square foot home for their family. He did it a little at a time over several years, so they won’t have a huge mortgage payment. Just a gigantic house to enjoy and truly call their own.

They’ve really done well for themselves. They’ve got nice vehicles, Hilton Head rentals to enjoy every summer, and all that. I’m truly happy for her. But of course I’m a little jealous. Who wouldn’t be (unless they had more)?

Today was my dear mother’s birthday. I was unable to get her anything, but I did call and wish her a happy one. Too bad what little bit of money I have is tied up. I would have loved to get her something shocking, like some hot lingerie. I would have had to deliver it in person, though, so I could see the look on her face when she opened it.

Hopefully things will be better by Mother’s Day, and I can get her two gifts. I know she understands that I just don’t have any money right now, but it makes me feel bad. She always manages to get me something or send me some money on my birthday. And she always sends a card, which I didn’t do either. I’m such a bad daughter sometimes.

My mom went to her brother’s a couple of weeks ago. He has cancer, and they were going to do surgery to attempt to remove it. But once they got in, they found that his gall bladder urgently needed to come out and that the cancer had spread to places that were inoperable. So they took out the gall bladder and sewed him back up. They’re now saying that he may have a year left if he does chemotherapy.

Mom called me a few days ago to tell me that she was going out of town again. No luxury vacations or anything, but going to spend a couple of weeks with her brother. I wish I could go with her. I have only seen him once since Pumpkin was born, and I can’t stand the thought of never seeing him again. I didn’t see my aunt for about 10 years before she passed on, and it still haunts me to this day.

Maybe when things calm down here, I can go visit with him. I just hope it’s not too late by then.