“What the hell!?”
I stood staring at the water pouring out of our downstairs bathroom ceiling at 1:30 AM and the only words my mind could string together as I looked at the youngest college Boyzi Boy with wild eyes and my hands thrown in the air were, “What the hell!?” ***It has been a goal of mine for the past 23 years to claim the coveted, “Mother of the Year” award. I’m close***
And, that (an upstairs toilet malfunction), my friends, is how That Man I Married and I came to be living in a camper in our driveway whilst a massive – completely unplanned and unexpected- restoration/remodel took place inside our home of 14 years. Here’s a list – in no particular order – of things I learned from the experience:
Sometimes words are hard – and even an educated Christian woman can go slightly hood given the right circumstances.
I’m an educated Christian woman, but sometimes words are hard – especially in the middle of the night. Several years ago I completed my master’s degree in reading education, and with brotherly love, the eldest of my siblings *God love him.* asked, “So.. does that mean you know big words now, or what..??” Well – as it turns out- No. Big words are not my thing. Apparently, “What the hell?” is as good as Baby Sister gets in a pinch. That piece of paper’s really working out for me, Brother.
Stress is cement.
Imagine a waterfall pouring out of the ceiling in your downstairs bathroom. Common Sense says, “Run! Turn the water off in the upstairs bathroom!” Stress, however, cements your feet to the floor, short circuits all problem-solving brainwaves and reduces you to a child while your 19-year-old son becomes the adult and sprints into action. Thank goodness for all those private cross train sessions. The boy’s got wheels. We spent not our life’s savings in vain.
Water goes a long way.
A long way.
Sometimes you need to call in the professionals.
Fans and towels can’t always solve the problem. Did you know there are actual, real-life professionals out there who train for early morning calls about freak flooding problems? These professionals storm your house like the guys on Ghostbusters within 20 minutes of being called- armed with little electronic water detector thingies that find all the water (eeehhhrrr-where), ginormous dehumidifiers, wind tunnel fans and 1000 degree (not really) heating pads to suck the water out of hardwood!? Our home sounded like a freight train was splitting it wide open, and maneuvering from one room to another was similar to traversing a child’s playroom after a neighborhood birthday party where Monster was the preferred beverage of choice. Even the cat was skeptical and cautious.
A good woman can lose her shit over BBQ sauce.
I’m not proud of it, but can I get an amen? These things happen.
It’s true. BBQ sauce can cause a woman to come all undone up in the middle of the local BBQ joint. But, let’s talk. If an eating establishment has the letters -“B-B-Q”- in its name, shouldn’t a worn out, camper-livin’ woman on the edge get more than four teeny-tiny packets of BBQ sauce for her slab-o-ribs and smoked-turkey-dinner-in-a -box? Yes. Yes, she should. And, furthermore, is it appropriate – or particularly smart – for the wait staff to make snarky comments about said woman purchasing a bottle of BBQ sauce when she comments about the lack of BBQ sauce in her bag? No. No, it is not. When a woman is living where her whole “house” shakes when she turns over in bed, she has no problem going to jail. None.
When you truly need something, God will provide.
That Man I Married and I waited 20 years for the right time, the right price and for just the right camper. The “right things” fell into place and we pulled the trigger on our “home on wheels” this past spring – not knowing we would need a place to live just four months later. God knew what we needed before we did. Our God’s kinda amazing, isn’t He?
God even cares about toilet paper.
Truth. I purchase in bulk. It’s generally the cheapest way to go, and, friends – I’m all about cheap. Toilet paper is no exception. When “the right things” fell into place and we pulled our “baby on wheels” home, I immediately started maxing out my Amazon card and stocking the nooks and crannies with all the comforts of home. I had enough Scott Rapid-Dissolving Toilet Paper delivered to our doorstep to last us years of campground septic systems. In fact, I actually kind of laughed as I heaved the box into the garage storage room. “We’ll never use all of this,” I thought to myself. Update: I’m no longer laughing. God knew. God cared. God used Amazon to deliver what would soon become an essential. I love Him… And, yes – I love Amazon Prime, too.
Electricity doesn’t play around.
Nothing will light a woman up quicker than just the right combination of a non- grounded camper, metal steps, and a key/lock. The first time it happened, I thought I had tweaked my wrist. The next time it happened, there was no question as to what was taking place. My hair stood on end and I’m pretty sure I glowed. It’s all better now, but Lort, have mercy. How did we go 14 years without knowing the electrical box in our shop had never been grounded!? Thanks to That Man I Married, it is now!
Bubble wrap comes in bulk too!
I’ll just leave this right here. Seriously – Are words even necessary? The guys literally used this and more when packing most everything we own. It’s not really hoarding if it’s in a closet or a drawer and out of sight, though – right?
Not everyone speaks the same language, but kindness is universal.
I’m fairly sure the demo crew spoke zero English. How do I know? Well…. one day as I rattled off a few quick comments and some questions- they smiled, nodded- and then smiled and nodded bigger when I paused for a moment for them to respond. And then when I finally raised my eyebrows in the universal language that is as if saying, “Well???”, they told me thank you. We couldn’t necessarily communicate, but we could certainly be nice to one another. Kindness is what makes the world go round. It’s universal – so smile, say thank you and warm another’s day.
There comes a time when you just don’t care.
My apologies to any neighbors who might have witnessed me trekking back and forth from the camper to the garage (where the majority of our wardrobes were housed) sans all but “the essential” articles of clothing.
A Tribe – It matters.
Family, Friends, Coworkers – Our Tribe… We absolutely couldn’t have survived the whole camper-livin’ thing without each and every person we hold precious and dear to our hearts. Our tribe was always there. Meals, texts, calls, muscles, humor, concern, support – everything. Tribes are essential. Thank you to those in ours.
Does it get any better than cinnamon rolls? One particularly difficult Saturday afternoon a friend called to say her mom had come to visit and wanted to bring us something…. My heart (and my tastebuds) smiled. Big.
Humor
How does anyone make it through this life without humor? It baffles me. The “Down By the River” references flowed freely amongst our tribe. We love you all even more for making us laugh and keeping us grounded and sane.
Food poisoning is real.
Food poisoning in a camper where you don’t have the comforts of home takes “real” to a whole new level.
Opposites Attract
I imagine 46+ years ago God and the angels stood looking through the clouds down at Earth and the conversation went something like this: – “That “almost” two-year old down there,” God said pointing… “That one. The little towhead, running around investigating everything and anything – just to see how it all fits together and works. The one that loves his mother with all his heart and cares for everyone else before himself. The one I made slightly quiet and reserved. He’s going to be an engineer and an amazing husband and father, you know. (Pause) He’s going to need a helpmate… I ‘m going to send him a little spit-fire brunette that’ll always keep him on his toes, but will love him and their children fiercely, unconditionally and without reservation. I’m going to send her down exactly two years to the date of his birth. They’ll be made for each other from the start. Their differences will serve to compliment each other during life’s ups and downs, and their similarities will fully solidify their “Us”. – (Pause) Yes…. Yes, indeed – that’s what I’m going to do.” And, then… God clapped his hands together in finality and went back to His game of golf. The angels sang.
And, so it was. That Man I Married and I are opposites in many ways, but together we make one pretty good “whole”. I appreciate and love him so much more after shacking up with him in our little fiberglass mansion.
Sometimes it felt a bit like Archie and Edith around the ol’ camper… Ya know- hanging out and eating in our recliners and all. 😂🎶 “These are” the days….
Dust Knoweth No Boundaries. Friends, restorations/remodels bring dust. Lots of dust. No matter how much you dust – there will be dust. I can’t even.
“Seasoned” can detect “Unseasoned” pert-dern quick and in a hurry. I learned this as I “Mary Poppins-ed” my way into the laundromat one Saturday afternoon. I went straight to four washers in a row, threw open their lids, and gingerly deposited a Tide pod in each. I turned to continue my merry laundry making and startled as I looked up to see an obviously seasoned “Laundromat Veteran”- one leg crossed over the other, leaning up against the folding table, methodically raising her Coca-Cola to her mouth and staring intently (way intently) at me. I smiled. She stared. “You ain’t from around these parts, are ye?” my mind imagined her saying in a voice worthy of the old western movies my dad watched every Sunday afternoon when I was a kid.
I deflected my gaze and went back to the task at hand, still very much aware of the steady gaze burning a hole in the back of my head. Undeterred, though, I practically skipped in front of each washer. ***I’m reading The Happiness Project, after all. “Act the way you want to feel, M. Act the way you want to feel…” *** I gingerly threw in four loads of clothes and topped them all off – (Insert bartender long-pour theatrics.) – with a cap full of Downy Scent Booster. “Yep. City slicker. Thinks she better than us with her whole pod an booster nonsense. Fabric sof’ner. *Hmmff* Don’t know when she think she gone go an add that. There ain’t no fabric sof’ner cycle round here. Girl think she got it all figr’ed out an the world by th- tail. We’ll see.” And so it continued. The lady staring at me while I continued about my laundry mission with an occasional sideways glance, just to make sure she wasn’t about to pull out her six-shooter and take ten paces back. I wasn’t there to dual. I am blessed to have laundry to wash, therefore I was doing it with delight and with moxie – the way we should all tackle life – even the mundane. (Thank you, Jen Hatmaker and Of Mess and Moxie – Wrangling Delight Out of this Wild and Glorious Life, for that little attitude-boosting, perspective-changer.)
******
This concludes “the list” as of today. We still have a few more days left in our mansion in the driveway, but the end is in sight and we are so thankful to finally – after three months of craziness – be moving back into our home soon. Nothing beats sleeping in your own bed and having everything in its proper place. There’s no place like home, Dorothy. There really just isn’t.
Until next time… ~ M.
I Can't Make This Stuff Up..... 