I'm a grown up

I spend a lot of time complaining about my "grown-up" responsibilities.
Paying bills...
Going to work...
Taking care of the house...

As I sat pondering over the drudgery of my "grown-up" life... it occurred to me that when I was a kid I expected that things would be a lot more fun once I didn't have someone telling me what to do.

Then it occurred to me...

Things are more fun now that I don't have someone telling me what to do...

So, to celebrate my grown-up life, I decided to make a quick list of the things that I love most about being an adult:

1. I can have whatever I want for dinner. I don't have to worry about nutritional value if I don't want to. I can have a bowl of cereal, a root beer float, or an entire bag of cookies if that's what I want to eat. It may not be the healthiest alternative, but who cares? I'm a grown-up.
2. I can stay up as late as I want any night of the week. If there's something on television that I want to watch, if I get busy surfing the internet or catching up on facebook, it doesn't matter what time is on the clock. Sure, I have to get up and go to work the next morning and I might feel like total crap for the entire day, but who cares? I'm a grown-up.
3. I can go wherever I want to go. If I decide that I want to go shopping in town, hang out with my friends, go to a concert, or even make the eight hour drive to see the love of my life, I can. Sure, I have to pay for the gas and even risk the random attack of a rogue deer, but who cares? I'm a grown-up.
4. I can spend an entire day doing nothing at all. If I decide I want to lay around in my jammies, watch cheesy television movies and spend the day being a complete sloth, I can. Sure, the house might be a mess and I might smell like a foot, but who cares? I'm a grown-up.
5. I have no rules. I can run naked through the house, lay in bed until noon, and spend my extra money on a pair of shoes. There is no one to tell me what I can, or can't, do. There are no boundaries. The world is mine. Sure, I might get a raised eyebrow and people may be suspect that I have completely lost my mind, but who cares? I'm a grown up.

What do you love most about your grown-up life?

When I'm 38...

If you had asked me when I was 16 years old, "What will your life be like when you're 38?" I would have laughed at you.
Back then, 38 years old would have been even older than what my mother was at the time.
It would have been so far out of my reach of comprehension that the only possible reaction I would have had would be to laugh hysterically.
No way would I have ever been able to imagine being so "old".

If you had asked me when I was 21 years old, "What will your life be like when you're 38?" I would have grinned at you.
Back then, 38 would mean that my children would be grown. I would have envisioned dreams of being a published author, living in a beautiful home, driving a new car and taking lavish vacations.

If you had asked me when I was 30 years old, "What will your life be like when you're 38?" I would have growled at you.
Back then, 38 would have only felt like 8 more years had been added onto my life. That I had managed to accomplish nothing more than get older. That things had only gotten more difficult, not any easier.

If you had asked me when I was 37 years old, "What will your life be like when you're 38?" I would have simply hung my head in defeat.
Back then, 38 would have only been a year away, one step closer to being 40 and a lifetime away from where I would have ever imagined being.
I could have never, not ever, seen the incredible things that would happen.

Life has a way of passing by, slipping through your fingertips like grains of sand.
Days turn into months... months turn into years... years turn into decades....
And, right at the moment when you've given up hope, when you've lost your vision for the future, when you've chalked your entire existence up to nothing more than a wasted effort..
Life has a way of throwing you something so incredible that you can't believe it's even possible for it to be happening to you.

I'm 38. And if you ask me now what my life will be like 10, 20 or even 40 years from now I'll just smile, shrug my shoulders, and tell you that it doesn't matter.
Because whatever life brings, whatever my future might hold...

It will be amazing.

The Heartbeat of Home

Sometimes I don't fully appreciate the place that I call "home".

For some reason I thought it would be a good idea to go on a bit of a nature walk so I set aside the fact that it was 96 degrees outside and grabbed my camera. I already had the perfect spot in mind, it was a place that I drove past at least twice a week, and while it wasn't the most obscure location it was still ripe with photo opportunities.
I parked my van at this abandoned one room church that sat along a country road that was traveled only by people who knew where they were going. My destination wasn't far from where I parked, but the only way to get there was by walking along the road.
I was familiar enough with the area to know that the locals drive the road well above the posted 40 MPH speed limit sign so when I heard the first car approach I stepped off into the high grass at the edge of the road.
The car slowed to a stop and the automatic window came down.

"Do you need a ride?"
It was a young woman with two young children strapped in car seats in the back of her car.
"No thanks," I said as I wiped the sweat from my forehead. "I'm parked right up the road."

That was the first of ten cars that passed me during the time that I was on the roadside, and each of them stopped to make sure I was okay. Even the old farmer who was hauling a load of hay on his tractor slowed to make sure that I wasn't in distress.

"If you need a phone I got one uptahouse."
"No sir, I'm okay."
"Well then," he reached into a cooler that was strapped to the side of his Massey Ferguson with a bungee cord and pulled out a bottle of water that had stopped being cold sometime around lunch, "take this so you don't get yourself a heat stroke."

I smiled.

This was the place that I called home.
A place where strangers didn't mind stopping to help a woman walking alongside the road.
A place where strangers offered you something to drink on a hot summer day.


Sometimes I forget to appreciate this place that I see every day, and the people I pass as I drive down the road. Today I felt the heartbeat of my small mid-western town.

The heartbeat of home.

Laundry room chaos...

I got this great deal on a used washer and dryer a couple of years ago.
It was the bargain basement price of FREE, and - well - this sister doesn't turn down free.
There were a couple minor issues with the washer and dryer, but nothing I wasn't willing to live with - especially considering my old washer had decided to spew oil all over my laundry and my old dryer had decided it would rather eat my clothes than dry them....
Ahh..life's rough.

Based on these core facts, it came as no surprise when the appliances were in need of repair.

What did come as a surprise was the fact that it would happen all at once.

Week One:
I get a text message from my brother that says, simply, "dryer is broke."
That brother of mine, he's so detailed in his informative skills....
After a quick inspection, and a visit to repairclinic.com, I had a new heating element on the way.

Week Two: (Part 1)
Just days after having placed the order for the heating element for my dryer I was met with a second laundry catastrophe. My washing machine had for some reason decided that the water was better placed on the floor than in the drainage pipe clearly labeled "WASHER OUT".
Who knew?
A quick inspection alerted me to the fact that the drainage hose had sprung one hell of a leak, and further inspection alerted me to a severely worn place on the agitator belt.
Wanting to preempt any future repairs or shipping expense, I hopped on repairclinic.com and ordered both the replacement belt and the new drainage hose.

Week Two: (Part 2)
After the arrival of my first order for the heating element for my dryer, I hunkered down with my socket wrench to make the repairs. 30 minutes later my dryer was running like a dream...and even getting hot enough to dry the clothes completely.

Week Three: (Part 1)
Upon the arrival of my washing machine replacement parts...I again hunkered down with my socket wrench to begin to disassemble my washer. An hour later, covered in the stench of water that had likely been sitting in the washing machine pump for the last decade, the washer was again running smoothly.

Week Three: (Tonight)
My brother tosses something into the dryer and turns it on. From my desk in the family room I hear this incredible squeal....
Never a good thing.
Looks like I'm making another visit to repairclinic.com

Do over...again....

I go through these phases....
Sometimes I'm writing hard core, balls to the wall, without any hesitation or reservation.
Other times I come to a full and complete stop.

I suppose you can guess that most recently I've been at a stop.

It was the unexpected message from an internet friend which prompted me to start reevaluating the things I'd been doing with my time.
Essentially, her message was "where the hell have you been?"

I had to stop and ask myself the same question.

I didn't have a good answer.

Wherever the hell I've been doesn't really matter as much as the fact that I'm back. At least for the moment.

Time to get you caught up on the life that is Heather....

You better fasten your seat belt.

Words For Sale

Lately I feel as if I've turned into a bit of a word prostitute...selling them off for a few dollars at a time until the dollars add up to something good.

If you're one that follows the articles I post on Associated Content, then you've probably noticed that the subject matter of my recent articles is a bit off from my normal gig.

I mean common?

Me?

Writing about bed wetting and toilet training?

There would have to be some reason that I had chosen this subject matter for the crazy collection that has been recently published.

There is a reason.

Dollars.

Writers aren't a whole lot different from artists...

Most of us are starving...

Only a few of us ever get noticed...

And that's only after we're dead.

As I wrote that just now I started thinking...

What if, years from now, long after my bones have turned to ash, someone decides to do a bit of snooping into my portfolio of work?

I have turned my legacy into a collection of articles highlighting the joys of excrement.

Wonderful.

Of course in a perfect world I'd be one of the featured authors in Oprah's Book Club and would spend my days lounging on the deck with my handy laptop. Sadly, my world has yet to reach that stage of perfection just yet...so I bide my time hooking out my talent 450 words at a time.

It's a hard knock life...

But one day, when I'm hanging out by the pool in my $1.7 million dollar house overlooking the ocean in Hawaii - I'll drop you a post and let you know how I'm doing on my tan.

Saving Pennies

My daughter stood in the doorway holding a handful of money.

"This is what I've made so far."

She passed me the stack of twenties and I counted them out.

"$240," I smiled at her. "I'm impressed."

"And I get paid again tomorrow," she grinned. "That'll bring me up to $300."

"You're doing a fantastic job."

She trotted off with her wad of bills in hand.

She's spent the last five weeks, her entire summer vacation so far, babysitting for the kids across the street. It wasn't exactly how she had wanted to spend her summer, but the bait of making a few dollars was to much to resist.

"So what are you going to spend your money on?" my mother asked her after she found out about her summertime gig.

"A car."

My mother laughed at her answer, but was quickly met with the determined stare of my 15-year-old daughter.

"I'm serious. I want to buy a car next summer when I get my driver's license."

My mother assured her that she had plenty of time to save money for a car, but she held firm to her original answer. Every penny she earned from her babysitting job would be stashed away for a car.

It was a lesson she had learned from her brother, who, after he turned 16 worked for an entire summer to be able to save enough money to buy his first car. She watched him scrape together every last cent he had so that he could purchase the $1500 car from the local car lot.

That summer her brother taught her a valuable lesson about money:

If you want to buy something, you have to save your pennies to be able to get it.

That summer also reinforced an important "mom rule":

If you want to have your own car, you have to buy it yourself.

"So if I start saving my money early," she said during that same summer, "then I can buy a nicer car, right?"

"That's how it works."

Now we'll just have to see exactly how dedicated she is to achieving her goal.