What's the point?... Really?

Perhaps my greatest fear in life is being misunderstood. If you're visiting this site and wondering "What the hell is the point!?" please allow me to explain.

I am a 27 year old Jane Doe mother of two and wife to one.. The further I delve in to adulthood the foggier my memory becomes. I'm okay with that as long as it only effects things like appointments and dinner dates (we don't really have dinner dates - but if we did I would be totally okay with forgetting them). But, when I notice old memories slipping away I am disturbed.

My pre-child, wild and free self did a lot of rebellious and even shameful things..but she evolved into me through experiences and I will fight tooth and nail to remember where I came from and who I was. As these cherished memories slip away into the fog that is my mommy brain, I feel pieces of me and important connections slipping away also. This is not acceptable. Although, I have no desire to brag to my children about my shenanigans, (I am sooooo not the cool, relatable parent) I need some way - some safe and healthy way - to hold onto these foundation stones of my present day self. Otherwise, what will my adult self stand on? Celebration of life - even life's mistakes is crucial..

So, feel free to enter my closet, look around and rattle some skeletons..and if you're brave enough, let me hear about some of yours..

Thanks for coming. Really..

Mr. Mustang

Dear sexy husband,

This is my first memory of you:

At our little high school, in our little town, we sat on the front steps everyday to eat our lunch and talk about what I now consider to be a bunch of trivial bullshit. I don't remember what was being discussed - but if I had to guess I would say Keri was more than likely bragging about something her new boyfriend had bought for her and I was plotting my next trip out the window to ride around our boring little town at 2 in the morning.. In any case, someone noticed a maroon Mustang coming slowly down the street and then a frenzy started that I'll never forget. I clearly remember the conversation coming to an abrupt halt, all of my friends' faces lighting up, and everyone adjusting their posture to be more cleavage flattering. I looked around confused. Then I heard your name, but I'm not sure who said it because everyone was excitedly talking at once.."**** ********! That's **** ********! OMG! He's in his Mustang! Did you know he was in town!? OMG! How does my hair look!? He's so fine. OMG! We used to watch him play football - he was so good. He's so fine! He signed my yearbook a couple of years ago.. I can't believe that's him!" See, I moved to our little town the same year that you graduated and left for the navy, and I knew nothing of you, or your mustang, or your blue eyes, or your football glory days. I watched you slowly approach. Through the tinted windows I could barely make out your brown hair. Despite my ignorance to your apparent holiness in our town - I became excited too.. At that age excitement is infectious and I was delighted just to be there in that group of girls making bedroom eyes at you. While the girls made bedroom eyes the boys rolled their eyes and grumbled. As it turned out, Keri was the only one brave enough to actually wave. You looked straight ahead as if you had no idea we were there and you drove on. It didn't faze her. She spent the rest of the lunch period talking about her connection to you and how you two somehow had friends in common.

So for years that was the image of you in my mind. Brown hair, fuzzy profile behind tinted windows, really cool Mustang, high school legend- cute boy..

I wish I could go back and whisper in my 15 yr old ear the fact that one day 'Mr. Mustang-cute-boy-high-school-legend' would be her husband and he would love her and be a great daddy. I would instruct my 15 yr old self to have more confidence and to know she was beautiful and to stand up for herself and that it's okay to do her own thing.. But I can't and I guess she'll just have to learn all of that the hard way.

Sweetheart, there are many, many reasons I love you and I promise most are not nearly as shallow as this memory.. However, I still look back on this day and it gives me immense satisfaction to know that in the end you chose me Mr. Mustang..

Decisions

Hey you! Remember me? I'm that girl that disappointed you terribly at our first church camp experience. You and I and GiGi were the only ones who went from our little old church that year. We were 12. I remember them talking to us in detail about pre-marital sex and all the risks and what nots. Afterwards someone ask us if, after all we had learned, we thought we would hold onto our virginity until marriage. You and GiGi. gave a quick and emphatic "Yes." When it was my turn I approached the question from a realistic and statistical stance and reluctantly admitted that "I probably wouldn't end up waiting." I thought you two were going to fall out in the floor or throw yourselves in front of the bus or something. Y'all looked at me like I had just proclaimed communism as my religion and Marilyn Manson as my spiritual leader. You then began to lecture me about AIDS. Again.. and I finally promised I would try.

This whole incident is fairly ironic from my perch here in the future. You and GiGi both lost your virginity a couple of years before I did and I had to sit through hours and hours of girl talk and braggy stories involving things I hadn't yet experienced. I was the last of our little group.. and even at that age I can look back and clearly see that on the inside, I was much younger than I thought I was and it was still too soon.

I know you remember the next year of church camp. The one in which we did not have a chaperon? You and I and GiGi and L.P. and J.D. were there aaaalllll alooooone. We reveled in it. We settled in our dorm-style adjoining rooms literally vibrating with freedom. We had changed in so many ways since the previous year. You and I had become "best friends." We had discovered the artistic brilliance that was Beavis & Butthead. You were dating the first of what would be many adoring boyfriends ..said boyfriend was 2 years older and you were thinking of having...sex.. with him. That scared the shit out of me. I had kissed only one boy (much older sexy, sexy boy - but that's another story for another time) and anything beyond that was beyond me. I distinctly remember a conversation we shared in that church camp room about the the whole business. We had decided to skip some sort of activity that would have been required had we had a chaperon and "The most beautiful girl in the world" by Prince was playing on this little tape player one of us brought and we laid on our bed and had this soul searching conversation about sex. You decided not to...for a while at least...it was too soon.

We cranked up Prince and almost immediately GiGi came to tell us (in her 'pissy' voice) they were trying to take a nap over in the adjoining room. We then went into the bathroom that was wall to wall with GiGi, L.K., and J.D.'s bathroom, stood on the toilet and shouted dialogue from Beavis & Butthead through the vent.

Most of it was about poo..

( I feel it's just right to include that that first trip to church camp led to my meeting Jesus. He is real and important in my life. If you don't like it - sorry..this is my blog...and this part is not meant to be funny.)

Subarus and motion lights..

Hey you! Remember me? I was there the night we scored some pot off of Keri's boyfriend and snuck out her window to smoke it in the driveway.. Remember? Remember that U shaped driveway that we practiced driving around and around and around in her dad's beat up Subaru? And we would all pile in the front seat because the back seat was draped in that old Mexican rug where it appeared the dogs had decided to take turns shaving each other. And off we would go, piled high in the front seat of a beat up Subaru riding around and around in that bumpy-ass driveway..

But anyhoo, remember that motion light that was literally RIGHT BESIDE the 'sneak-out' window? Remember how hard it was to remember that motion light when even the slightest bit inebriated? Well, this night we were way beyond slightly inebriated and we did not remember the motion light and one of us stepped just a tad too far to the left and BOOM we were caught in the bright light,..exposed...and even though it happened literally every time we ever snuck out of there, it always shocked us and we would freeze and say "shit!" under our breathes..

The crazy thing about all the 'sneaking' in and out of Keri's house was that we didn't have to.. Her mom was either the hardest sleeper on planet earth, or just didn't care. Either way I distinctly remember quite a few instances in which we snuck out the window and later walked in the front door. But sneaking out a window makes everything you are about to do tremendously more thrilling. Even if, like this particular night, you are in your Joe Boxer boxer shorts and a t-shirt and you're simply going to stand in the dark driveway and smoke a joint with your girlfriends..

So if you'll remember, the 'sneak out' window was actually very high off the ground. So much so that I believe we had to stand on a chair.. Anyway, this particular time Keri was extremely (and uncharacteristically) paranoid and was shushing us and creeping around like a crazy person and we thought this was absolutely the funniest thing that had ever happened on the face of the earth. On this particular high, Keri had all of a sudden decided that she cared if her mom heard us and was deathly afraid of such a thing happening.. It was like she and I had swapped brains and she was scared shit-less. She got in the window quietly and without incident. I slid in as quietly as I could (remember? I had a LOT of practice sneaking around because my parents were determined to ruin my life by way of grounding). Then it was your turn. I don't know what we were thinking letting you go last. You were the shortest one of us and obviously I should have gone last. But it is certainly possible that our reasoning capabilities weren't exactly fine tuned yet.

So here you come...at the exact moment you reached up and started to hoist yourself through the window Keri's crazy little dog realizes something is awry. Apparently the dog is convinced that we are terrorists coming to steal all the bacon and burn toilet paper with matches and begins frantically running up and down the hall and every time she does the china cabinet glass shakes and tinkles and at this point Keri literally loses it. Of course we thought this was hilarious; partly because of the pot and partly because Miss Cooley, cool- ass Keri never, never lost it; she was too cool. But here she was in front of our eyes shushing the dog and yelling (in her whisper voice )at you and giving me the evil eye for laughing. You got so tickled you literally could not pull yourself in. Sadly, giggling engages the stomach muscles.. The same stomach muscles you needed to pull yourself the rest of the way inside. You were stuck there: half-way in, half-way out the window with the motion light shining off your butt. I kept having visions of you trapped there forever in this weird Winnie the pooh like pose and us having to bring you food and water and cigarettes.

Keri was acting like a wild woman, I was giggling uncontrollably, and the dog couldn't stop running up and down, up and down. At this point she knew it was us and not bacon-stealing terrorists but it had turned into an exhilarating game because she too had never seen Keri lose it like that. You were suspended there for a good half hour giggling and sputtering and occasionally letting out that high pitched laugh-squeal and there I was by your side pretending to help pull you in the window to appease Keri (who was literally cursing us in whispers by this point). Each time I made a real effort to pull you in, I would be struck by how hilarious the situation was and I would start up giggling all over again. When we finally pulled you in and calmed down we could have lit a cigarette off of Keri's cheeks.. good times. good times..

When our motion light goes off at home, this memory pops up and I giggle to myself and wish I had a joint to smoke in the driveway.