Welcome! Welcome! Please, do come in and join me. I’m Brandi, and this is my brain. I’ve been excited to make your acquaintance for a while now, but I had to get this place straightened up a bit first. Also, I am a bit on the shy side. No, actually, I am a far leaning introvert. I’ve finally gotten up the courage to break free of my cocoon and get busy finding others like me. So this is me, tentatively tapping on my shell, sticking out an antennae to get a feel for the climate. It seems safe enough, so I will come out and tell you a bit about me.
As I said, I am looking for others like myself. Now, I’m not actually sure that others like me exist. I am the kind of person who can tie a song into any conversation. As when my husband is leaving for work and I sing, ♪♫”You’d better kiss me, ’cause you’re gonna miss me when I’m gone.”♫♪ Although, more often than not these lead ins wind up with the guys singing back up for me on the Muppets “Ma-na-ma-na” song, and everything collapses from there. More on that at a later date. Anyway, I’m a t-shirt and jeans girl most of the time, though I can clean up alright every now and then if the occasion calls for it. I like the mountains and the ocean. I enjoy Baby-Back Ribs…mmmm…ribs…excuse me a second while I wipe the drool from my chin. Okay, I’m back. As I was saying, I can also nearly devour a box of Chocolate Lucky Charms in one sitting. I love babies and old people, Broadway Musicals and hard rock. I guess you could say I’m pretty eclectic as a whole. What can I say? When something speaks to me, I claim it. No shame!
I’m mostly weirdness and awkward points of personality wrapped in a rather bumpy overcoat of skin and jiggle. If you feel like your puzzle piece doesn’t quite fit anywhere, or if you just want to stare for a while and contemplate the whys and hows of a person who’s feet fit some very strange and sometimes smelly shoes…then you’ve come to the right place! Come on in, kick off your shoes and get comfy. Let’s chat!
I am a forty year old married mother of two beautiful young men whom I have homeschooled for the last thirteen years. Shayne is my oldest. He graduated high school last year. Vance, he’s the “baby”, still has a year and a half of high school left. I am married to the most stubborn, kind, irritating, intelligent, gorgeous pain-in-the-uh, asterisk that I’ve ever met. I call him Dean for short. We’ve been married for twenty years. We’re happily married. Most of the time. Not when he’s being super obstinate or exasperating, of course. But other than those times, we’re very happily married and I consider myself to be an exceptionally lucky woman. No doubt you’ll be hearing a lot more about my guys in the future. They’re pretty amazing fellas.
I have always been a writer. In Kindergarten, I wrote that, “I have a pet cat. It is a girl cat. She is scard of me. But I stell lick her. And I thenk she licks me.” From there, the prose just rolled from my fingertips onto the paper. And now they are flashing across the laptop. I knew that it was time to start a blog because Shayne, who is twenty in real years, but in Mommy years is still only about four, decided that it was time for him to move into a place of his own. This all happened about three weeks ago. To say that it blindsided me is an understatement. There was no big hullabaloo, no watershed moment. Just an announcement that his friend would be needing a roommate in about a month and he was going to take the chance to get out on his own. Now don’t get me wrong, I understand that chronologically, it’s time. I understand that mentally he is intelligent enough to problem solve his way through life the way we all have to. I understand that physically, he is strong enough to pack groceries up stairs, change a car tire, whatever it is that men need strong muscles for. But emotionally…now THAT’s a different story. Emotionally I feel like he packed his things up to go home long before the play date was over. I want to fall in the floor, wail and kick and punch and scream, “I’M NOT DONE PLAYING! YOU CAN NOT LEAVE UNTIL I TELL YOU THAT YOU CAN LEAVE!” (Much like the stick figure me chasing after a licked cat that just wanted to be left alone. I don’t do alone very well.)
When Shayne was born, Y2K and The Mayan Prophecy loomed large before us all. I really had myself believing that some major catastrophe would wipe out humanity as we know it before my babies were grown. We’d all go to heaven in our little row boat at the same time, and I would never know life as anything other than a wife and mommy. Now before you get hung up on the more obvious dark nature of this thought, there are some subtle, but important positives. The most important being that we would all, literally, live happily ever after! Just my three precious guys and me, strolling the streets of heaven together for millennia. In my imaginings, whatever happened was going to be instantaneous and painless. We would close our eyes and in the next instant, when we opened our eyes we would see that we had been transported to an idyllic place much like Eden, or The Great Smokey Mountains of Tennessee. As fate would have it, however, neither Nibiru nor Jesus came to take us home before my little boy turned into a man and decided it was time to prove to himself that he could stand on his own two feet. So here I sit, nursing my broken heart and trying to figure out what the next chapter of life holds for me. I think writing is my best bet. The alternatives that I have found so far include: Trying to eat myself into a diabetic coma; fighting with my husband over the tone of his voice when he asks me what I want for supper; or lying in Shayne’s former bed, crying my eyes out, berating myself for not paying closer attention in Algebra class so that I could build my own flux capacitor and return to the time when I could protect him by carrying him around on my hip. And those are just the highlights! Therefore, I believe that if I am to have any hope of saving my (in)sanity, writing is going to be my salvation.
Now that I’ve been demoted to part time work and my job title has been changed from “Mommy” to just “Mom”, I seem to have a ton of time on my hands to try to figure out who I am. It’s the unknown! Psh! What could go wrong? This is where you come in. I’m going to share my journey with you. My journey of “The Second Act”…returning to my health, creating art in many forms, travels, challenges, loving, laughing and maintaining my insanity through it all. Because the world can never have too much documented crazy in it. Ammirite?
YEAH! So I’m OUT world! My crazy is showing, and regardless of what my Southern Baptist roots taught me, I will NOT tuck it back in! I’m raising my crazy flag and flying it high! All those in favor…leave a comment sharing your particular brand of crazy. If you want to follow my wacky journey, sign-up for blog updates. I’ll also be on Facebook, Twitter and Instagram in short order. I hope to see you there!
This oughta be good! Or really confusing…Either way, we should have a great story to tell when we get to where we’re going. I don’t have a final destination in mind, but I’ve been told that it’s all about the journey anyway. And this one’s gonna be AWESOMESAUCE!