bitches, bleach and bras

in april i started working for a cleaning service.  we clean houses.  we clean mostly beach houses, big ones.  you should be sooooo glad that you have the info first because  i know we will be on bravo someday and you can totally say " i know that chick on the far end of the couch".  at first, folks asked me why?  hello, that was an easy question.  i have never been paid one single dime and probably only two compliments in 30 years for keeping house and i don't look at the ocean when cleaning.  i can see only a beat up tree house.   now, i get paid, get complimented and, and this is a big and, i look at the beach.  so why not? 

at first, i did not fit in with the girls.

why?

in all fairness, they haven't said but i think it was the "age" and the "laura ingalls factor".  i am old and i am not pierced or tattooed.  i know my children's dad's and i have an education and i was working for money, not for friendships.  i wanted the extra money for the "button" to have at college.    now, it is attorney money. 

anyway, i learned a ton about cleaning ladies. 

here goes.

1.  they are obsessed with lingerie.  talk about being a "fish out of water."  it is cheaper for me  to buy four steel belted tires than it is to buy four good bras to hold these "girls" up.  if you know me, then you know how important that the girls are held up instead of looking at the ground.  seriously, i am still wearing maternity underwear and she is eight.  never have i been in a victoria's secret and i am pretty sure that there isn't a cup size in there to hold one up let alone two and i haven't seen my stomach or rib cage since fourth grade. chicks who can give me the willies so i am NOT shopping there.  victoria secret will be the sponsor when "bitches, bleach and bras" makes it on bravo.  when we all sit on the couch for the reunion show, skinny chicks with angel wings will come out and make the girls stop fighting.

2.AWESOME from the Dollar General is the best cleaner, EVER!  and when it is gone, you get a GREAT spray bottle for bleach.  you do have to mark the bottle with a "B" though so folks know it is bleach.  AWESOME  is the bomb.  it would most likely kill head lice but i am not sure who has the courage to try it.

3.  Moms are moms.  It doesn't matter how many "anchors" you have in your skin, or how tattooed your skin is or how old you are, a good mom is a good mom.  the one lady i work with "j" is so dedicated to her grandchildren that i truly wonder if those kids will ever know what she sacrifices for them.  the other girl ( and she is young) calls her daughter all day long and texts her photos while she is working.  but today, it really hit me...i heard "a" talking about her next three paychecks and where those paychecks were going...one for her son's birthday present, one for tax free weekend and school clothes, the next for school  supplies.  and then "m" chimed in, one for the new baby to buy diapers, one for her daughters school supplies and so on.   until you are a mom, you have no idea what women do for their kids. 

i always said i would never visit one of my kids in "summer camp. " my knuckles have touched his through the glass.  it was never about me, it was about him.

years ago, my friend was broke.  it was christmas time.  both girls asked for american girl dolls.  she didn't have the money.  she saw "mock"  dolls at her local drug store but she knew her girls would know.  i offered to pay for the american girl dolls at about one hundred dollar per doll.    she declined, " i will make it happen".  and guess what, she did.  the girls got the dolls.  i know my mom did the same.

and fellows, don't be mad but seriously, if you were in charge, would it have happened?  no and no offense but it wouldn't.

that is why "bitches, bleach and bras" should rule the world.

we would be clean.  all countries

we would plan ahead, waaaaaaay ahead.  we would know "hey tansania, need some help over the holidays?  we need some cheap jam for teacher gifts and if you send some over, we can send folks at summer camp to pick up your trash" or "yo, chick, your underwear is not matching your thong or your shoes, he is not feeling you at the meeting".  "change your under garments and he will feel you".   or better yet, " i have three paychecks to pay my monthly bills, have extra for school supplies and  to  a little to put  toward the national debt".  doesn't that sound like a good idea?  if most of these uneducated, bleach spraying, coupon clipping and bra matching chicks get it, why can't our governments?

but, more importantly, when one of the very soft spoken young girls found out about :"summer camp", she said to me, "sucks when bad things happen to good people".

sucks that bleach cannot erase the stain in my heart.  sucks that no cleaner in the world erases the whole in my heart and how much i miss my son.

sucks that this isn't just a can of spilled picked beets.  it is real life.

the good news is, the person helping to wipe it up is a mom. and if there is one thing i have learned, a true mom is AWESOME and clean up just about any mess.  count me  in.

the beginning

it wasn't supposed to be like this...i was to get married right after college, with a small waist, perky boobs and a great tea length dress in downtown pittsburgh.  instead, i was 37, boobs were starting to go south and my waist wasn't that small anymore.  well, maybe my waist was smaller the first go around...but we are talking about the current marriage.  the first one didn't last too long.

anyway, i got married with children.  one.  he was cute as a button.  my soon to be husband said, "if you marry me and help me raise him, i will make you a happy girl."  okay, i was the cross between mary poppins and maria von trapp and i wanted to be a mom.  i was in.  he took the dog lover to the pound.  the rest is history.  got married with children, adopted the "cute as a button" and more  kids followed.

where am i today? unemployed after a 32 year career in the radio broadcast industry, my husband is redefining himself thanks to an anemic economy and my 18 "button" is in jail.  oh, the "j" word.  usually gets people's attention.  i like to call it "summer camp".  summer camp sounds soooo much better than jail.  it is like the "c" word.  no, not that one. Cancer.  whenever anybody says, jail, cancer or even snot, it makes you cringe.  so...we are going with summer camp. 

this blog is about what happens when you have a plan and the plan gets derailed.  right there, in front of your very own eyes, the plan goes kaput and you stand in horror and watch, then weep and then get up and start going through the rubble trying to salvage what you can.  and, this blog is about kids and being an adult.  you know, my grandfather always said that being an adult was like wiping your ass with a hula-hoop.  it never ends. 

and most importantly, this blog is therapy.  i cannot afford a therapist right now and obviously my son needs the therapy more, so i will stick with this blog.  never, in any mother's dreams does she wake up in the morning and say. "this is the day my pride and joy goes to jail aka summer camp."

my favorite line from my favorite movie, "when the good lord closes a door, somewhere, he opens a window."  so,  here goes, with a ton of heart ache, humor and menapausal wisdom, i have officially added "blogger" to my resume.