Fortune Telling Pencils? Huh?

Dear Ladies,

All my life I have fought the person that told me I could not. I have argued the reason that could not be argued. I have made sure that no one would ever tell me “no”. In fact, the easiest way to get me to do almost anything is to tell me that I can’t. That’s right, taunt me with the words that I am no longer able or the words that I am not qualified and I will change your world…. Because this girl defies all odds!!!

Back this story up about two months ago. I was on the path of happiness with my family of four. We may have outgrown our house before we ever moved in but we knew that the four of us were a team and that four was the size we would be.

It has been four years since our last was born. Jacob, my ray of sunshine, who just turned four was our agreed last child. We were blessed with a gorgeous girl and then the most perfect little boy so why continue for more. This shop is closed!

For years that is what I believed in my heart. This shop is closed! I have it all! I have one of each and life is as perfect as it is going to get but, there was always the clause in the back of our minds that if we had endless money we would have endless kids. Who were we kidding?… we will never have endless money so… The shop is closed!

Two months ago, I attend a party at which there is this game played with a needle and a pencil. I hate this stuff because it’s like the ouija boards. It’s creepy and you want to believe but it is always skeptical and I almost never buy into this stuff. The magic pencil tells us all how many children we will have and it is so smart that it tells the sex. This damn pencil knows it all and I watch as it is correct on lady after lady.

To answer your questions, I know it is correct because it was done on some women that were more mature in age if you will, and were done having children. The damn pencil was correct for them as well as every other female in the room. It was enough to creep me out and to test it on my own. To which I have several times and always the same outcome.

So for myself, the damn pencil reveled a girl, a boy and then no more children. Yup, that’s the plan. The damn pencil is right! That is exactly what we planned on. Amazing that this stupid pencil and needle can say what we had already planned and knew.

Wait…. did a pencil just say I couldn’t have any more kids?

Now this is where the problem lies. I have done this stupid test over and over again and every time it is the same. I have a girl and then a boy and then done. And I was done! I mean I am done! Like done, done! I gave away every bit of baby anything I could possibly have. I’m done!

But how dare a pencil tell me that I can’t have another. I may be done, but if I wanted another I could, right?

Suddenly this fucking pencil is in my face saying you can’t and as you read in the beginning… no one or nothing tells me that I can’t!

Damn it! So now I’m fighting a pencil… Do I even want another baby? Well first off we don’t even have room for a baby so the idea is down right stupid. Second off, we don’t have room for another baby so the idea is ridiculous. Third, fourth, fifth and sixth off, we just don’t have the space, the money or the time for another baby. Love is about all we have to offer and that would come as a consolation prize to food, shelter and the other necessities that we really don’t have enough of.

Why am I even considering the thought of this anyway when two months ago my shop was closed permanently? There wasn’t a doubt. Even the pencil knew that I had my girl, my boy and done! No doubt….. Until now. Damn you pencil!

I can’t do another baby, I wasn’t even good at it with the two that I have. I suck at being pregnant and I struggle daily at being a good mom. I barely have it figured out after seven years and two months ago this shop was closed. Damn you pencil!

Damn you pencil for making me even question if I should have another only because you say that I can not. Before you ever twisted over my wrist my mind was set and clear and now I feel the need to prove you wrong, because that is what I do. Prove the negative nacny’s wrong!

I still don’t plan on having more kids, although I don’t appreciate that this damn pencil has made me question myself so much. I am done and sure about it, so the only other way that I can prove the pencil wrong is to find someone that it doesn’t work on. Hmmmm…….

I know its a little bit nuts but if I ask to dangle a pencil over your wrist, let me. Let me try to prove a pencil wrong so that I can sleep easy with my two kids and know that my shop is closed. Let me feel peace that this pencil is silly and it doesn’t work and let me find fault in the myth. Let me find fault in it as I dangle it over your wrist because right now, it’s prediction for me, may or may not be correct!

Ha Ha Ha, it is correct…. I’m pretty sure!

Love,

Cherise

 

Life Is A Stage, And So Is An Ottoman

Dear People that make ottomans,

The uses for an ottoman are endless. Sitting on the couch just isn’t quite right without the resting place for your feet, it serves as extra seating in a pinch, and a coffee table when you need a spot to set down your remote… or coffee. The possibilities for this cube of wood and cushion are incredible, but it wasn’t until my children reached todlerhood that I realized what it’s true purpose was.

An ottoman is not just a resting place for tows or an extra seat. It is a giant stage, as grand as any stage on Broadway.

Suddenly, it is the stage that the most amazing songs are sung. Dances are choreographed with precision. It is a gathering place where Jacob and Cassidy sing into paper towel rolls and hair brushes. This is where the magic happens. They light up with excitement as the put on a show for Mom, Dad and the world of an audience that I know they are imagining squeezed into our small family room.

“Ladies and Gentleman, Boys and Girls!” They demand our full attention and I know that no matter what this show has in store , it is going to be a moment to remember. Sometimes I video the show so that I can replay it for the stars. They can look back and see how much fun they were having. Sometimes I just watch. I just sit and take in every off key tune and every tiny butt wiggle from the top of that grand stage. I soak it all in because soon they will be too big for this stage.

When the stage lights dim and the audience is gone, usually while I’m cooking dinner, the ottoman is transformed once again. This time it turns into a giant mountain surrounded by lava. There is a river that flows between the couch and the ottoman and the only recommended way to cross the river is to jump. Jacob travels from mountain to couch and couch to mountain over and over as long as no one is looking. One giant jump after another, back and forth dangerously avoiding falling into the hot lava. This is usually where I put down the knife or spoon and really watch from around the corner.

I watch as he climbs up the mountain and stands proudly on top. Just when he thinks that he is safe, the lava starts to rise. The only escape is to reach the couch. He leaps again and makes it by the skin of his teeth. Safe once more! Just then he turns around to see me watching and he turns back into Jacob. The superhero disappears and the  mountain is just an ottoman ready for feet to rest once more.

It’s funny how a piece of furniture can bring so much joy. I could watch these two forever. They shows, the song and dance, the superheros, I love it all. I know that before I realize it, that giant ottoman will be tiny. Instead of our floor being covered in lave it will be just carpet and so I watch. I applaud as loud as I can and scream for an encore! I peak around the corner and I watch the happiness, true little kid happiness. I see it all and I cherish every second of it!

So to the people who make ottomans, Thank you! I couldn’t enjoy your product more, that is unless it also cleaned up after my little superhero/stars.

Cherise