Oh Lord It's Hard to be Humble

But I'm doing the best that I can.

I'm pretty sure my dad's parenting goal was to make sure that his children didn't have an ounce of pride. Growing up the way we did, there was no way to blend into a crowd. Anywhere. We wore skirts when everyone else wore jeans. We pinched our cheeks and put Vaseline on our eyelashes when everyone else wore makeup. We used hot sticks until our hair fell off in premeditated places when everyone else was getting bangs cut. Nope. We weren't about to blend into a crowd.

Then it came time to drive. It wouldn't be enough that we had to drive a station wagon with wood panels on the side. THEN we got to drive a car that had a horn that played tunes like the wedding march. But that wouldn't be enough. Our horn had a short in it so that it played any time we stopped at a stop light. We took routes home from school specifically to avoid having to stop.

But it still happened. I developed pride anyway. So today I was reminded of that pride when I had to drive my father-in-law's truck to a vendor show. Don't get me wrong. It is soooo nice of him to let us use his truck for 2 weeks while our car has been in the shop. I've learned in this family when you say your car is in the shop it means your car is sitting in Hubby's cousin's garage until he gets time to work on it. So that's where our car has been. So the only vehicle we have that will fit our children in it is the van. Today Hubby had to pick up Little Sissy from preschool while I was working so I had to drive the truck. The truck runs well, but it has a few little issues: One, the left blinker doesn't turn itself off automatically after you turn. And it doesn't make a clicking noise to remind you that it's still on; two, the brake light is constantly on, which makes a girl continue to pull on the emergency brake even though it's really not on; three, there is not a cupholder in the vehicle, which is a little dilemma for anyone with my genetic composition. My people are known for needing to have a beverage while we drive. I think trucks like this are a dream for most boys, but I don't know any girl who thinks so. Unless you're Bella from Twilight. Which I'm not. I don't like my man cold and pale with sharp teeth either.


The first trick today was getting all of my products that I need to display and to sell into a small one-seater truck. I literally had bags piled to the ceiling, and I had to keep one hand on the bags beside me to keep them from falling on me as I drove. I felt like Jed Clampett driving down the highway with my bags toppling onto me and my left blinker constantly on. Then I had to get lunch on the way. Since there was no cupholder and my hand was busy blockading the 31 products, I asked for a drink holder for my unusually large soda. The soda barely fit into the holder, so once I got it wedged in there, there was no getting it back out. Not without 2 hands, anyway. And I didn't have 2 free hands. Now I had one hand on the steering wheel, one hand blockading the 31 products, and a humongous soda cup wedged into a holder, all of which was precariously situated on my lap. So when I wanted a drink, I had to use my shoulder to keep the products from falling on me, and lift the whole mechanism, holder and all, up to my mouth.

I finally pulled into the mental health clinic where I was the only vendor for the day and they put me in a special corner so I wouldn't be too bothered by the patients. Nope, I'm not kidding. It turned out fine, but I would be remiss if I didn't make some jokes about the day and let my blog readers know about my special pride issue. On that note, let me leave with you with a little diddy that I love. Sorry about the h___ word a few times. Please remove all children from the premises despite the fact that this is a MUPPETS snippet.

I Miss You

Yes, you--my friends and family who love me enough to read my blog even though my posts are very sporadic these days.

And I miss you--my time to read and blog and teach my children things and get my house organized and have coffee with friends.

And I miss you--my ability to go to bed by midnight and not feel guilty because I'm not getting things done.

And I miss you--my family, some of whom I haven't seen in a few months.

So I got a promotion this month. Most people are happy about that. I am feeling stressed and busy and missing my life. My old pastor who I used to work for told me once that just because you CAN do something doesn't mean you should. Lots of people tell me I'm good at this, but I'm still wondering if I should wear the shoe just because it looks on the outside like it fits. I may feel differently after the crazy holiday season is over, but right now I'm just missing my old life. And how are you?