Just wanted to update y’all and let you know that The Psychomother has not been hit by a MARTA bus or fallen off the top of The Mountain O’Stone…she is overwhelmed with school auction projects, a soon-to-graduate senior, and several other situations that unfortunately take priority seatin’ to her blog! She will be back faster than two shakes of a tail feather! 🙂 Thanks for waitin’!
Yesterday, my husband had our car. We are about to buy another car. That, in and of itself, is a long story that I will not bore you with. Let’s just leave it at: yesterday, I was at home without a car. Yes, I could have called a friend to take me, yet again, to Kroger. Yes, I could have called my father in law, to drive across town, to take me to Kroger. I could have walked to Kroger. I could have called Uber and gone to Kroger. I could have gotten my ass to Kroger to get stuff for dinner, but I did not. I despise going to the grocery store. It is my least favorite chore on the planet. I will do just about anything to get out of it. I chose to work out at home, and then clean off my back porch that looked like Sanford and Son’s back porch. Then, I mowed my back yard and bagged up some leaves. My husband was picking up The Middle Child after her chorus rehearsal at 5:00, so I texted him a short list of items to please pick up at Kroger on the way home, and I never thought about dinner again.
When the mail came, a vinyl thingy I ordered on Etsy was in it. It was for The Baby’s new
“Star Wars” themed room and says “May The Force Be With You” in silver. I have always just painted straight on the wall. These vinyl things scare the shit out of me. They come with directions–something I don’t follow very well. So, when I heard The Middle Child and my husband come through the door, I was upstairs, applying that damn vinyl thingy to The Baby’s wall, cussing up a storm. Thank God I got the damn thing level. It was the hardest thing I have done in my life. The Middle Child came into the room to see it. “Did y’all go to the store?” I asked. “No”she said. I just rolled my eyes and shook my head and said, “Great.” About that time, The Baby came running up the stairs with my husband, to show him the new vinyl. I was so pissed about the grocery store, I couldn’t help myself. ” I guess you decided not to go to the store?” I dug in. “Not yet” he replied. I went into our room and started changing my clothes. I had heard The Baby ask him to go outside and play with his giant foam airplane, and that should and would take precedence over the damn grocery store. I would take my ass to Kroger so that my husband could play outside with The Baby. The two of them went out to play. I was still getting ready to go when my husband came in and asked if we had a ladder. I am the one who paints, repairs, etc. around here …LOL So, I informed him that no, our ladder is not tall enough to reach the roof. When I need to do any roof work, I always have to borrow a ladder. Now right here is where I am going to get to the nitty gritty of the story. Our next door neighbor was not at home, so we could not borrow a ladder from him. I was not about to call my father in law and ask him to drive across town, just to get this damn plane off the roof. Recent unfortunate events have led to the demise of what was a really good friendship with one of our other neighbor’s . I have taken ownership and apologized for my role, but unfortunately it is the type of situation that cannot be fixed, and I wish that things were different. I would still do anything for them if they needed me-though I know they would not ask. It used to be that I would just go over and borrow their ladder. In my crazy town head, I wondered if they were over there, laughing at the fact that we did not have a ladder and The Baby’s plane was stuck on the roof. This, my friends, this thought alone, was enough fuel to complete my Bad Ass Certification. I went into the house and slammed the door. My ass was going onto the roof, hell or highwater. I stormed out the back door. I was sure that my husband was going to come out there, but he did not, and that was a damn good thing. I started taking chairs off the back porch. Thank God I had just cleaned off the back porch, or I wouldn’t have been able to find the damn chairs. I tried putting this 6ft old, wooden, rickety ladder into these chairs. Not tall enough. Dammit. I stood there and thought. And thought and thought and thought. There had to be a way. I was just sure my neighbor was probably saying, “she should just get on her broomstick and fly up there”…..And in my crazy town head, I thought, if I had one, I’d have flown to fucking Kroger earlier and gotten groceries for dinner, bitch!….
I don’t know..Maybe I am the only one who has these types of dialogues in my own head? So….It was on. I remembered that our large round umbrella table was on the bottom patio, so I ran down and got it. In flip flops. I positioned it just under the lowest part of our roof, and made sure there were bricks under the legs so it would not sink in the pea gravel. I put that rickety-ass ladder up on that table and climbed aboard, all the while, trying to figure out where the the hell my Wonder Woman cape from Six Flags might be. I knew it was in my closet. I also knew it would take time to find it and had the potential to ruin my surprise of getting onto the roof in the first place, so I just ditched that thought and moved on. I got to the top of the ladder and chickened out. There was no fucking way. Also, I was in my semi-good jeans and a shirt I liked–I had changed to go to the grocery store, remember? I climbed back down. Then I remembered the thought that had fueled the fire in the first place, and climbed back up, this time, all the way up on top of the rickety-ass ladder. I hoisted one knee on top on the roof and that was all she wrote. I was up there. Yep. In flip flops. I have been on our roof many times, so I was not scared. I ran across and picked up the airplane. I yelled The Baby’s name. “MOM! HOW DID YOU GET UP THERE?” he yelled. “Don’t worry about it!” I said. About that time, my husband came out from under the carport-his eyes wide and his mouth hanging open. “HOW did you get up there?” he asked. “I’m resourceful” I said. “You’re a Bad Ass” he said. I just smiled and said thank you. I won’t need any compliments from him for years. In my mind, for your own husband to call you a “Bad Ass”…well, that is about the highest compliment one can ever receive….even though my children have been calling me that for years 😉
I must say that Mini Me was not home when all of this occurred. When he heard all of this, he called me a “Dumb Ass”….. 😉 I am sure that Mothah might agree….. I will also say that my husband did come around to the back and hold the ladder so I could climb down safely, and all’s well that ends well. Bad Assery, well done 😉
When I was a little girl, Mothah took a cake decorating class. I can remember taking her icing bags out of the refrigerator and sucking the buttercream out of them and then putting them back in the refrigerator. I wonder if she ever knew I did that? Now she does. I loved watching her decorate cakes with all the bags and the different tips and all of that damn icing. I absolutely love icing. Frosting, icing, whatever the hell you want to call it-it’s all the same to me and I will eat it all. I started making and decorating cakes as a hobby years ago-for my kids. They would ask for something completely off the wall and I would make it and they would be thrilled. I’m not bragging-it’s just a fact. I’m an artist, and artists can just do this kind of thing. I am by no means saying that the damn things were perfect and looked like they came from a bakery! They were perfect as seen through the eyes of a child, and that is all that mattered. As time went on, I got a little better at this cake stuff. I made a Les Paul guitar for Mini Me. The next year I made a Les Paul Gold Top with gold spray paint icing stuff for Mini Me. The Middle Child liked to help with her cakes. She had one that actually weighed probably close to 20 lbs. That year, she and I actually made our own fondant! We hand-colored it, rolled it out, etc. It was a two or three layer cake–heavy as lead. The fondant was made out of marshmallow, so it tasted delicious. I have also made a couple of small wedding cakes for friends. By “small”, I mean 3 tiered and not 6 tiered. Anyway, I felt that I was a seasoned cake decorator. The Middle Child and I were trying to find something to do together. These pre-teen and teenage years are rough on mothers and children. There is a lot of separation. The Middle Child spends far too much time in her room, and I spend far too much time on my computer or in the kitchen or in the laundry room or doing whatever needs to be done. I’m not complaining. It’s just life, and I am sure that it is the same in most every home. Mothah came up with the perfect solution: she gave us gift certificates to take a cake decorating class together for Christmas. In 2014. Stop laughing. We tried to make time for it, but there just wasn’t any. The Middle Child has Atlanta Young Singers of Callanwolde, and her voice lessons, and school, and I have a husband, Mini Me and The Baby too–it’s not like there is all this extra time floating around! Finally, in October of 2015, we decided to take the class. I went on the website and found that we could not take the fondant class that we wanted to take because Wilton I was a prerequisite for ALL of the other classes. So, we were going to be taking Wilton I. I was Pissed with a capital P. I already knew everything that Wilton I was going to teach! Good God! I have been decorating cakes for years! I have made wedding cakes for God’s sake! It did not matter. I was not special. I was going to have to take Wilton I. So, I signed us both up for Wilton I. Then, something came up and we had to reschedule. Then, something came up and we had to reschedule again. I was beginning to wonder if we were ever really going to take this damn class. Finally, it was time. I knew we had to each have 6 cupcakes for the first class. I made 6 homemade cupcakes, that were, of course, ginormous. I do not deal with dinky- ass cupcakes. We got there, and our cupcakes were about 3 times the size of everybody else’s. The Middle Child was horrified. Even the instructor said, “My, those are some huge cupcakes!” “I do not do small cupcakes!” I said. As class began, I realized that I had done what I am prone to do: not read the directions. We had none of our supplies. Well, except the damn cupcakes. We had no scissors, no paper towels, no nothing. Dammit. Thank God our table mates were kind enough to share. The Middle Child told me not to worry, that it was okay, but I know that she was secretly out-of-her-mind-embarrassed and just trying to make me feel better. We got our kit at that class, and it had all the other stuff in it, so we were not totally unprepared. That first night, we learned how to properly put icing in a bag. Now, I have been putting icing in bags for years. I do not see why it is necessary to do it any differently than I have been doing it; however, I did do it her (the instructor’s) way. I also found out that I could no longer hold the damn icing bag with two hands. This was not good news for me. Neither was the news that I now had to hold the damn bag at a 45 degree angle for some things and a 90 degree angle for others. I had to look at the picture in the book just to remember what a 45 degree and 90 degree angle looked like! I was not pleased with this. I was (and am) very set in my ways, and the instructor was very set in hers. I was exhausted at the end of the class, but I did go on to spend $40 on various cool little things she showed us that would make cake decorating easier….because I am a sucker. And I bought 2 of everything-one for me and one for The Middle Child. Before we left, she gave us the list of what we needed for the next class. We needed an 8 inch round cake and 5 cups of icing. She told us to use a cake mix so we would all be on the same level. She also said to use the recipe in the Wilton I book for the icing, but somewhere along the way, I lost that information. The icing we had used that night had been given to us and it was Wilton decorator icing and it tasted awful. All I could think about was my own homemade buttercream and how delicious it would taste on my cake for next week….. We also needed cake boards and a leveler, etc. So, I bought a bunch of shit and we went home. On the day of the next class, while The Middle Child was at school, I made both cakes, and made 10 cups of my delicious buttercream icing. We both needed 3 cups of medium consistency and 2 cups of stiff consistency. It all had to be separated out so we could both color it separately, etc. We got to class and the first thing we did was learn how to level a cake, which I have always done with toothpicks and wire. I am so happy to never have to do that ever again! I now own a $10 cake leveler that works so much easier and faster. The instructor was going around the room and she got to one student who had not followed directions and had not used a cake mix. The leveler would not go through her cake because her cake was thick like pound cake. The instructor went on and on about it. I was so glad I had followed directions and used a cake mix! We learned how to fill a cake, which was fun. I got some raspberry filling and added that to my cake. It was delicious, and I was not expecting to like it! We got to the icing part. We were icing our cakes and the instructor looked over at our icing and had a fit. I had noticed that everyone else’s icing was nice and white and fluffy. Ours was not. “What is in your icing?” She asked. “It’s my buttercream” I answered. “Why is it yellow?” she asked. “It has butter in it.” I said. “MMHMM” she said, shaking her head. “You did not follow directions. You were supposed to make the icing in the book. This icing is not going to do what it is supposed to do because it is too heavy.” The Middle Child was horrified. We did our best to ice our cakes, but the instructor was right. The icing was too heavy. At the end of the class, after everyone had left, I apologized to the instructor for not following directions. I told her that all I was thinking about was how good that icing was going to taste-not about how it was going to work in class! And that I had totally blanked out the part about why we needed to make the icing in the book. I said I was sorry and I had not blatantly not followed her directions. She said it was fine and that there was a reason we all needed to be on the same level with our stuff. The Middle Child had already gone to the car with half of our supplies….probably to get away from me. We had our list for the next week, which was much easier. We just needed some brownies or cookies and icing. That week went much better and was pretty non-eventful. Well, except that I was having some personal drama with a friend and could not (okay, would not) get off the phone and The Middle Child had to go in for the first 15 minutes or so without me and then I texted off and on throughout the class, and… cried a little. It was just a stroke of luck that our seats faced the wall… The poor Middle Child. Oh My God. So….for the last week of class, we were to bring a cake of our choice, already filled and iced, and a bunch of already colored icing of different consistencies. So, I got all that shit ready on the day of class. Let me say that after the second class, I made the icing recipe in the damn book. We learned how to make roses! I have always wanted to learn how to make roses! The Middle Child is SO much better at it than I am ! She is left handed. She was the only lefty in the class. All of her flowers, borders, everything turned out much cleaner and neater than anything I did. I think it may be because she has a lot more patience than I do. She is also very calm. I have to say that I found out that I did not know everything there is to know about cake decorating-by any stretch of the imagination. In fact, I could probably re-take Wilton I and learn more. I learned a lot. Our instructor was fantastic. I loved taking the class with The Middle Child, and even though it sounds like it was a giant clusterfuck, it wasn’t, and I think she really had fun too 😉
As usual, I am more than late in completing this task…but at least I am finally getting to it! I was (and am!) very excited to have been nominated by two fellow bloggers for The Versatile Blogger Award!
Thank you so much to Wendy Weir, who writes the wonderful Greater Than Gravity blog, and also thank you so much to Joanne, who writes the awesome Beyond Mummy blog! Both of these great writers nominated me, psychomother that I am, for this award! I have been so busy with Mini Me’s college auditions and interviews, and then The Baby had an actual birthday–his birthday is February 29, so we had to celebrate big time, and well, real life just took over for a bit.
The requirements for this award are:
Thank my nominator(s).
Share the award on my blog.
State 7 things about myself.
Nominate 10 other bloggers.
Seven Facts About The Psychomother:
- I appear to be extremely unorganized; however, I can find most anything anyone needs in our home at most any time.
- I hate going grocery shopping more than any other task that has to be done.
- I am extremely introverted and shy and prefer to be with a small number of people. This is often misinterpreted and people think I am a complete bitch. I also tend to have “resting bitch face”, which does not help! 😉 I sometimes overcompensate and talk too much.
- I have been sober for 13.5 years. This does not help with #3 in social situations! 😉
- I wanted to be a movie star but could not get more than a C in drama because I was too shy to even play charades in class.
- I want to write a book more than anything, and I believe that I can.
- I am a huge Jack White fan. You may have picked that up already if you have read The Contest (Part 1 of 2) or Two Jack’s and a Jen (Conclusion of The Contest)
The 10 Blogs that I would like to nominate for Versatile Blogger are:
I really appreciate being a winner in someone’s eyes. Especially when I feel like an impossible winner most of the time. So thank you again, Wendy and Joanne, for the recognition–I do so appreciate you!
I am the desert sun…the ever endless sea…Not a drop of blue or white…Is where it shouldn’t be…I’m a wheel going round…In a mirror house…A maze with no way out….What you have fears about…Holding on…To everything that’s come and gone…I need a distraction..Get me out from in-between…Everything I’ve ever seen…Don’t be long…I’m no beginner…I’ll be here every night…My name up in lights…The impossible winner…… The Dead Weather