I, the Queen, am not a boring person. Typically, I’m not bored, either. I can usually find ways to entertain myself to distract me from the boringness of this particularly inactive summer that I’ve been having.
Sure, I’ve been doing stuff. Things. But not every single day. Which is probably what makes me appreciate the stuff and things even more than I normally would.
So, if you are having a summer much like mine, may I suggest some activities in which to keep you preoccupied? These work for me and I am happy to help my royal subjects find their entertainment. Oh and…don’t mention it, you are so welcome.
1. Facebook Quizzes: I limit myself to 5 a day. I wouldn’t want to run out of quizzes before the summer ends. Although, it does seem that they are being produced rapidly and I’m thankful for that. I’ve learned so much about myself through these quizzes. For example: my mythical creature is a unicorn. I should have been born a vampire…or a witch, depending on which day I take the quiz. I was a rebel in high school…which, I didn’t need a quiz to tell me, it just confirmed the truth. I have a husband who is 91% awesome. And just today, I learned that I’m a woman in my mid-40′s. Oh, the things you can find out about yourself by just taking a few hours out of your day to partake in these very informative quizzes.
2. Beyond Candy Crush: I’ve crushed enough candy and have since moved on to bigger and better games. Currently, I am busily aiding in protecting the jungle animals in Forest Mania. I’m also quite proficient in Juice Cubes except I can’t find anyone to send me a ticket to move onto the next level. So instead, I play the same levels, over and over, in hopes of beating the person who holds the high score. Turns out I’m pretty competitive so watch out!
3. Amazon Kindle: I enjoy looking up free or .99 books, reading the reviews, downloading the books and then…never read them. My Kindle library is quite impressive in its diversity and I’m not sure I know many who can rival my collection.
4. Scour Craigslist for RV’s: My husband and I decided we want to buy and RV. Only, we don’t have $250,000 for the one we want. So, we spend way too much time searching Craigslists both near and far, in search of our future Kingdom on Wheels. Also, it will come in handy for that Zombie Apocalypse. We’ll be like what’s his face from the first couple seasons of the Walking Dead…hit me up if and when the time comes and we’ll swing by and get you!
5. Groupon Vacation Deals: I live to dream. Because realistically, I’m not going to be buying a Groupon to travel to faraway places anytime in the near or distant future. But OMG..I have such bad Wanderlust. I need to go somewhere soon or I’m going to spontaneously implode. Or explode.
6. Obsess over the news: Right now, my main obsession is what’s going on over in Israel and Gaza. It’s driving me insane. I just want them both to shut up and learn to get along. I mean, how hard can that possibly be. Anyway, it keeps my mind busy. Kinda.
7. Looking at YOU: Your pictures come through my Facebook timeline and I start looking. And somehow, I get lost all the way back to 2009. Wow you guys, you have really cute kids! I love your gardens. You look like you have a nice marriage. And I love your dinners.
8. Laundry and Swiffer: At this point, it’s not even about household chores, it’s about the salvation of my sanity. Swiffering is a monotonous motion and, to be honest, I have a lot of pets so there is a lot of swiffering going on. And the laundry mountain…is unending. Unending, I tell you. Like…it never, ever ends. So, I turn on music and fold. And switch loads. And clear out the lint filter because I can’t afford to buy another dryer…or another house, for that matter.
9. Stare into space: Yeah, I sometimes do that. I sometimes even throw in a little fantasy, like I’m joining Daryl in the war against zombies. Hey, don’t judge, I’ve come up with great story lines simply by staring into space.
10. Wander around aimlessly: It is kind of amazing how much I can accomplish by wandering. I’ve weeded my gardens which is home base to mutant weeds. My efforts are usually rewarded by more weeds growing within a day. I’ve also cleaned bathrooms, kitchen counters, walls and other places that I wouldn’t have noticed had I not been wandering around aimlessly.
There you have it. These are some sure things to keep you from being bored.
I, the Queen, approve this message.
On a side note: I’m going insane and need a vacation. Send an RV and money, STAT!
We’ve been married for 12 years.
A dozen years.
That happened fast.
This is the first year that I almost forgot about our anniversary.
And by almost, I mean..I forgot about it until I remembered a couple days ago. I completely forgot the date.
Not because I don’t love my husband. In fact, I love him an awful lot.
It’s just, I guess the one day on the calendar gets lost in the everyday shuffle of to-do lists and other life events taken over by 5 kids.
I haven’t even gotten him a card yet.
It’s our anniversary.
Honestly, I can’t believe we’ve been married as long as we have.
Time really flies when you’re having fun.
We’ve had some ups and some downs, as to be expected.
We’ve had major twists and turns, some not so expected.
But, all in all, it’s been a great twelve years.
So, this year, in honor of our almost forgotten TWELVE YEAR ANNIVERSARY, I present you with twelve things I love about my husband. I could come up with more reasons but I need to save them for future posts, of course.
Keep in mind, I’m not a romantic nor am I a mushy, lovey-dovey person. Thankfully, neither is my husband.
I love the fact that, even though I mostly work from home, he still pitches in with all the household stuff. He doesn’t expect more from me than what I’m capable of doing! I think that he realized 13 years ago, when we started dating, I wasn’t the most domestic of all domestic engineers. Thankfully, he is more domestic than I am.
I love that he is playful and silly. We may not be a romantic, hold hands and make out type of couple..but we are on a level playing field when it comes to being…well…playful. Instead of hugging in the kitchen, like my parents used to do…we have fake karate, wrestling matches that inevitably end with me getting a little bruised. But that’s okay, I can’t complain.
I love the fact that we both have separate interests but we also have many of the same ones. He likes playing poker every Friday night which allows me to escape to my friend’s houses to hang. But then, we go out another night and do what we both enjoy. Together.
I love how he is with my daughter. I mention her, in particular, because they have a special bond. They are proof that being Daddy/Daughter isn’t blood relative. She’s just so lucky to have him. And, I think he’s pretty lucky to have her.
I love how he encourages me to chase after whichever dream I’m dreaming at the moment. Because, I’ve switched directions way too many times to count. Yet, he is always my biggest supporter in whatever online, offline venture I’m in pursuit of.
I love that we get addicted to the same television series! He loves the paranormals and zombies as much as I do. And we love the same types of movies.
I love that he is truly my best friend.
I love that he ‘gets’ me. And I ‘get’ him. Even when he’s pissing me off!
I love how hands on he is with our mixed batch of brats. He’s there. He’s present. And all the kids know it.
I love that we rarely fight. When we do, they are doozies. But, they become forgotten by both of us and we move onto the next matter at hand…usually involving food.
I love our marriage. I love our relationship. I love him.
And I love that he loves me.
Happy Dozen to my husband. In the most un-mushy way…I love you with all my heart.
You’re one lucky guy, ya know!
Then again, I’m pretty darn lucky, too.
Here’s to many more where this one came from!
Highlights of the week or so we split between coastal town Cannon Beach and hipster hangout Portland include:
- Tidal pools: When I think of starfish, I used to think of dried-up, sand-colored creatures. No longer. Since we had the opportunity to wade through the tidal pools that form around the 220-foot high Haystack Rock during low tide periods, I now know that starfish come in colors including orange and purple. We marveled at the number of shellfish attached to the rocks and the brilliant colors of the anemones. And, we got to look through telescopes and see nesting puffins high up in the rocks.
- Hiking: Buying Elliot his very first pair of hiking boots before our trip was a flash of inspiration. One day, he hiked three miles! Up and down hills, through mud, over tree roots and rocks went out nimble-footed almost five-year-old. Whenever there was an opportunity to further explore, Elliot took it...whether is was using a downed tree as a pathway or seeing how many tree trunk hole "animal shelters" he could squeeze into.
- Portland Blues Festival: Tim, Elliot and I love live music, and when we're on vacation, we really enjoy attending local events. The waterfront Portland Blues Festival was a great chance to blend in with the Portlanders and listen to some tunes on a beautiful night. And, we just happened to catch Los Lonely Boys, a band we actually know!
- Ice cream: No vacation would be complete without ice cream, and the ice cream we enjoyed in Portland was especially memorable. We went to two artisan ice cream shops where we sampled homemade flavors like bourbon coffee (not Elliot), strawberry balsamic and ooey-gooey brownie. One advertised flavor none of us was brave enough to try was habanero goat cheese marionberry!
Once upon a time, the old Queen…the one that wrote about anything and everything and didn’t care about the backlash..wrote about the fact that parents have sex. And the other fact that her royal pain in the asses..er…princesses… seemed to be eavesdropping in on the Royal Chamber when the Royal Couple was copulating.
Naughty, naughty, little lambs.
Okay, I forgot, I’m not talking about myself, the Queen, in 3rd person anymore. Ahem..I shall continue but in 1st person.
So, the years have passed since I wrote about that little..incident. But, things haven’t changed all that much within the confines of the castle.
The princesses claim the common wall between our two chambers is made of paper thin construction. They swear they can hear everything. I feign innocence because innocent I am. What?
The princesses claim that every bed squeak, grunt and moan sounds like it’s coming from within their very own bedroom.
I, the Queen, tell them that perhaps they should consider going to sleep before us so they don’t have to hear anything. But teens stay up, all night long. It’s an issue in the kingdom. Because the King and Queen aren’t teenagers and they need to go to sleep. So, they can’t wait around until their royal children are sleeping. They have things to get done before they aren’t able to keep their eyes open.
Growing older sucks. I don’t remember ever getting the type of tired I get now.
Anyway. Back to their point, which was regarding sex in the kingdom.
It happens. Thankfully.
The kids will maintain, forever, that they hear it.
But now, fast forward a few years after the original post was written.
The princesses are now teenagers. The youngest princess…she’s 16.
I don’t even want to talk about the fact that she got her drivers license. Which I won’t talk about because that’s not the point of this post.
The youngest princess and her adorable friend were sitting and entertaining me, the Queen, one evening.
The King and youngest prince were out of town on a camping trip, it was kind of nice and there will be a post about it some other time.
The girls were discussing various subjects, the conversation was flowing all over the place. And they seemed to enjoy including me in the conversation. I felt like a teenager again. Well, sort of. As much as a 45 year old woman could.
The conversation flowed. It went from gossip to clothes to boys to…my blog.
Her friend was interested in hearing about my blog. She was curious about the content. I said I was a ‘Lifestyle Blogger” who threw out mind vomit.
That’s when my daughter…as my Southern friends would say…Bless her heart…took advantage of this opportunity that had presented itself.
My sweet little sixteen year old shit.
She just had to go and bring up her parents sex life.
Suddenly, she starting chirping about the time I posted about the night the Princesses were listening to us have sex. (The link to the post is up at the top of this post).
Suddenly, the kitchen became alive with chatter amongst the two girls regarding the sex life of the Queen and King.
While the Queen..me…was sitting right there, present. Listening. Catatonic. Mortified. Horrified.
Yet, so very entertained.
I listened as my daughter regaled her friend with details of how often she hears us, the contents of the bedside table drawer and condoms left in the toilet or garbage.
That seemed to make my daughter very happy. She giddily pointed it out which made me blush even more.
Which made her go into more detail.
Which made me blush more. (I can’t help it, I blush a lot. Always have.)
I then reminded her that the master bath is our private bathroom and if we want to throw the condoms out, we are entitled. And perhaps she should not be visiting our bathroom if she doesn’t want to actually see the evidence. And furthermore, that’s what she gets for going into the bathroom to steal my lotion, hair products or make up. And also…why is she looking in the garbage anyway?
Note to self, always remember to make sure the condoms are hidden or flushed because there are spies everywhere within the confines of this kingdom.
Needless to say, I…the Queen..realized my daughter, the princess…had turned the table, in her own way, on her blogging mom, the Queen. And the kid was pretty smug about it!
Instead of me, blabbering on the blog about all the things my children don’t want me blabbering about…which, by the way, I haven’t been blabbering much which is why my blog had been empty for so long…
My daughter became the blabberer, gossiping about me to her friends.
Yeah, I think it was basically the same thing as me spilling her stuff on my blog. And I think she has the same amount of friends as I do blog readers…like a half dozen or so.
When the conversation had finally switched over to something more teenager-like, my daughter looked at me and asked if I was going to blog about our conversation.
Of course, I said yes.
What other way do I have to get her back?
That’s why the Queen has a blog…to embarrass my children forever. It’s my duty and right as a Mother, Blogger and Queen of a Kingdom.
Because I was somehow able to turn the table back in my favor.
And order in the Kingdom was, once again, restored.
The Queen…I sighed.
And then went to bed because it was getting late and even though I felt like a teenager for a bit, I realized I am getting old and can’t stay up past midnight.
Or I become a Wicked Witch.
First of all, before the Queen starts making her list, she has an announcement to make. The Queen has determined she despises writing in 3rd person. It’s so…affected. And the Queen, despite her Royalness, is not even close to being affected…unless the effect is necessary. So the Queen will be switching to 1st person, from now on. She just felt you, her loyal subjects, should be aware of that small change.
I..the Queen..have quite a lot I would like to accomplish in my life. My bucket list is ginormous. It includes a lot of traveling. I (the Queen) have a seriously malignant case of wanderlust, it’s something I have been cursed with my entire life. And, I’ve never really been able to find a cure. I think money to fund this wanderlust would probably be somewhat helpful.
Due to the fact that there are SO many things that I, the Queen, have on my To-Do Bucket List, I’ve decided to share with you…my loyal subjects..the things you will never, in your lifetime or mine, see me doing. Ever.
Side note: Do any of you old-time bloggers remember Thursday Thirteen? Or was it Thirteen Thursday? It’s been so long, I can’t remember! I totally think we should bring it back because lists are fun!
With that in mind, I (the Queen) present to you, on glowing parchment with pulsing cursor pen…The 13 things on my ANTI-Bucket List (not in preferential order):
1. Waxing anything other than my eyebrows. I don’t care what anyone says about bikini waxing and smooth girlie bits. I’ll take my chances with razor burn, ingrown hairs and cut labia. I’m not putting hot wax anywhere lower than my face.
2. Piercings. Sure, my ears have multiple holes in them and I’ve been considering getting my cartilage pierced (by the way, I had to look up the spelling for cartilage. I’ve clearly been spelling it wrong my entire life and no one told me, not that I use it so much in a written sentence). There will never be a moment in my life where I think that a nipple piercing would be a good idea. Or a piercing lower than that. Ever.
3. Visiting a tribe of cannibals in the Amazon. Yeah, not gonna happen. I’m not even sure I’d want to see the Amazon. Although, I’ve always wanted to see the rainforest. But, there are really big snakes and spiders lurking in trees and under things and around things and..well..no. I just don’t foresee the travel part of my bucket list including having my brains be the main course. (because that is what cannibals would clearly want to eat from me. Duh) I don’t love having my brain picked, so being eaten would just be a giant ‘avoid at all cost’ type deal.
4. Roller Coasters and Water Rides with GIANT hills. I, the Queen, don’t enjoy being scared. And all those newfangled water rides and metal rides with hills that go straight down..ah…no. If I want to voluntarily scare myself, I just meander on over into my daughters room and take a look at her giant pile of clothes and other stuff on the floor. I’m certain there is something living in there.
5. Marathons and work-out competitions. I’m a lover, not a runner. I have a few friends that do marathons AND that Tough Mudder competition. I have not one ounce of urge to join in on their fun. I’ll let them have at it and I won’t even live vicariously through their story shares.
6. Mountain climbing. What’s that movie with James Franco based on a real life story? Well yeah..I’m going to avoid falling down mountain crevices by completely avoiding climbing mountains. It’s for the best.
7. Bungee jumping. The only type of Free Falling I enjoy is that song by Tom Petty. And that was so overplayed when it came out that I don’t truly enjoy that anymore. Voluntarily tying a cord to my ankle and jumping from unfathomable heights just isn’t something that I would get enjoyment from. Good on you, those who have no sense of fear. I…the Queen…in fact have a very acute sense of fear.
8. Have a later in life baby. Shop. Closed. The clock stopped ticking. The urge has left the Kingdom.
9. Joining a nudist community. I don’t think commentary is necessary here. But hey, listen, I’m not judging if that is something on your own personal bucket list. Nope, no judgement here.
10. Watching sharks via a cage dropped deep in the middle of the ocean. It’s fun to watch on television or in those videos that come through my Facebook feed. But, would I ever, in a million years, want to do that for myself? Nope. NO WAY. Because, my luck..one of those giant, prehistoric sharks (Megalodon) would appear and eat the whole shebang, with me inside. I have too many things I’d like to accomplish in my life and being eaten by a shark (or a cannibal)…so NOT on the list.
11. Smuggling drugs for a cartel. We Are The Millers makes it look like fun, traveling in an RV stocked to the brim with marijuana. And, while I wouldn’t mind the whole RV thing, I think that getting involved in the smuggling business would be bad business for my Kingdom. Sure, it would probably bring in some extra income, which we could use. But, dealing with the Kingpin Drug Lord and cronies…I’m just not the right Queen for the job.
12. Running with the bulls. Spain is pretty. Bulls, however…are not. They have those horns that impale, eviscerate, puncture and generally…can hurt you in ways that just aren’t appealing. You’ll find me enjoying local gelato, far away from the street where the crowds are running away from the bulls that are…well…bulling.
13. Bee keeping. I just watched a video of a guy holding a bunch of bees that were balling…creating heat and friction to kill the Queen bee. As a Queen,myself, I feel it’s in solidarity to all the animal kingdoms world leaders if I didn’t have anything to do with this type of shenanigan. Besides, I’m trying to keep my record of never, in my entire life, getting stung by a bee.
There you have it, the 13 things I will never do. I can say, with conviction, I will never…EVER..do anything on that list.
To My Children,
I love you.
And that is what sometimes makes this mothering thing scary.
There is no feeling more powerful…and powerless…than the love I have for you.
You accuse me of not remembering.
The problem is, I remember. I remember all too well.
I remember doing things I shouldn’t be doing.
I know you’re doing the same.
And then you try to hide it from me. Sometimes, you don’t hide it too well.
My inner-teen can sniff it out.
Because I do remember.
You accuse me of being too overprotective.
I laugh because MY parents were overprotective.
I vowed I’d never be as stifling as that. I promised myself I’d find a happy medium.
I think I have.
You feel otherwise.
And, you know what? That’s okay. Because I’m your mother and I said so.
One of my jobs as a mother, one which I take very seriously, is to keep you safe.
I know that I have my work cut out for me. You’re teenagers.
I can’t control everything.
Sometimes, I can’t control anything.
I don’t try to control you, though.
I try to teach you. To guide you. To help you.
That’s not control. That’s responsibility.
Responsibility born from a passionate love.
I ask questions. Sometimes, you think I ask too many questions.
But, I ask because I care. Because I want to know.
I need to know.
Because of how much I love you.
The more questions I ask, the more details you give.
But I’m safe.
I’m not ever judging.
We can problem solve, celebrate, laugh, cry…
Or, I can just listen, nod and hold your hand.
I am here. For you. Always.
I’m not your friend. I don’t try to be.
You have your friends.
I’m your mom. Your mommy. Your mother.
More importantly, you are my child.
It’s a lifelong commitment that I made and you’re stuck with.
No matter how overprotective, prying, nervous, overwhelmed I get…
I am always here.
Just like my hyper-overprotective parents were for me.
I am having a hard time letting go.
I didn’t expect your childhood to swoop away so quickly.
I’m still reeling.
I’m still trying to catch up emotionally.
I still see you as my little babies.
Even though I know you’re not.
Not even close.
But yet, you’ll always be just that.
Even when you’re my age.
You’ll always be my children. My babies.
I will always worry.
I will always be protective.
I will always be on your side.
Even if I don’t agree with you.
And I will tell you if I don’t agree with you.
But, I will stand by you with whatever decisions you make.
As long as you’re happy.
Just be happy.
Be happy in whatever way that means to you.
You’re growing too quickly.
I guess I am too.
I just want you to know how much I love you.
How happy I am to be your mother.
How grateful I am to have had you in my life.
How wonderful I think you are.
How proud I am of you.
How unique I think you are.
How excited I am to see what life has in store for you.
Just like the book I used to read by Robert Munsch..
You’d sit on my lap and I’d cry as I read it.
You’d look at me with wonder…why is your mom crying when all she is doing is reading a book.
I cried because there are no truer words…
I love you forever.
I like you for always.
As long as you’re living.
My babies you’ll be.
PS. Just do your chores, please.
In the Kingdom, days are busy. There is schlepping to and fro. There is the feeding of mouths. There is the constant switcharoo of washer to dryer to dining room table where the laundry sits and awaits folding. There is diplomacy and refereeing.
Then again, the Queen may just repeating what she said the other day. Kind of.
In other words, while Summer is a time of breaks and vacations, the Queen seems to not have the same luxury. She’s not complaining, not really. She’s merely stating the obvious.
That’s about to change, however. Even though it’s temporary, a staycation is coming.
Sure, the Queen adores her King. She adores her youngest prince.
They are deeply embedded within her heart.
But that certainly doesn’t change the fact that she’s looking forward to their annual camping trip. The one she doesn’t happen to be included in.
They will be off exploring the wilderness for six whole days. Sleeping in a camper bought from Craigslist. Eating hot dogs cooked over a roaring campfire. Fishing for…welll…fish from a paddle boat launched into the middle of some lake or another.
The Queen has thoughts of writing, sleeping, hanging, relaxing…all floating through her daydreaming head.
She knows that there will be other, more self-sustaining prince and princesses, left behind with her. But those sleep until noon. They leave for the day (after noon, of course) with friends. They go to work. They do stuff that they don’t want the Queen to do with them.
The Queen remembers a time when, she too, was a teenaged royal. She wanted nothing to do with her parents either.
The teenage Prince and Princesses are practically the same as having no one home. Except when they are hungry and then all their life skills disappear and they regress to infants who cry to be fed.
Pizza will be served. A lot. Probably too much. But, the Queen doesn’t care.
Let them eat pie.
The vacant side of the giant, King-sized bed will be filled with the Queens form, all sprawled out. Covers will be hogged. Pillows will be piled. Sure, she’ll have to share space with the royal menagerie but a gentle kick moves them out of her way.
The vacant days, generally filled with barking orders of the King and non-stop (yet adorable) chatter of the 10 year old Prince…those will be filled with the clicking of the keyboard. Because the Queen fully intends on trying to be productive. She fully intends on writing.
The vacant evenings, normally enveloped in television shows like MMA or car shows (and sometimes, the shows the King and Queen dvr to watch together), will be filled with…
NOTHING unless the Queen decides she wants to fill in those vacancies with SOMETHING.
The more the Queen thinks about those six blissful days the more she gets this odd feeling, deep within the pit of her stomach.
It’s quite unexpected considering the circumstance.
She’s wondering, if by some small chance, she is already starting to feel some sort of homesickness before her Staycation has even begun.
Many moons ago, the Queen made a premature appearance into the world. She colicked (it’s totally a word, the Queen just passed a law saying so) through infancy, bounced through toddlerhood, rebelled through the rest and it’s all still a bit of a blur.
Until one day, she found herself smack dab in the middle of this thing called Adulthood. No matter how hard she fought (and is still fighting), the aging process is winning. And the Queen even tried to pass a law banning aging but aging didn’t listen. The schmuck.
The Queen has been trying really hard to accept the fact that there is nothing that can be done. And hey, she does realize that it’s better than the alternative. The Queen doesn’t like the idea of worms crawling around in her eye sockets, that makes her dry heave.
So, she sighs and realizes she has no other choice but to roll with the punches that are called Middle Age and Aging insist on dishing out. Mind you, she’s not a completely willing participant but what other option is there?
While the Queen sits in front of the mirror, reader glasses perched on the tip of her nose so that she can see better, she inspects the soft lines forming around her eyes as she tries to tweeze her brows…which doesn’t work so well when wearing readers and works even worse without. It’s a no win, trust the Queen on this. She sighs with great upset. But then, she thinks about what those lines represent. They are from years of smiling (and squinting). Because the Queen, despite many downs in her life, has had way more ups. These past 45 years have been good. She’s made babies. Three of them, to be exact. And she’s raised 2 step babies. Babies that are growing so quickly, they can’t even be considered babies anymore. She found a man that she loves (and still crushes on) to spend the rest of her life with, if she’s lucky.
The lines around her mouth have deepened noticeably. Some call them ‘smile lines’ and some call them ‘frown lines’. The Queen considers them to be a life of laughter lines. She likes to laugh. A lot. She finds things funny and isn’t ashamed to chuckle or snort about them. The King makes her laugh. Her kids make her snort. Her friends make her crack up. Despite the fact that she’s middle aged, she is lucky to have these lines of laughter and can even forgive the fact that they are there. Not fully forgive but she’s working on that.
The Queen’s body is changing in places she never knew could change. But those changes are part of who she is now. Her, um, landscape doesn’t look like it once did. Things are rapidly moving South. Pretty soon, she’ll have to join them in Florida. But, for some strange and unexplained reason, she is more comfortable in this sagging body. No, she doesn’t like the sagging part. But, she is more confident than ever before. She somehow has found a way to fit into her skin, even though it’s trying to move away from her.
Reader glasses of various strengths are scattered around the Kingdom. Her eyes aren’t what they once were. Her vision used to be perfect and the transition to not-so-perfect wasn’t an easy one to deal with. The Queen found really cute glasses and Five Below so she is able to affordably hoard them. The Queen actually doesn’t mind wearing them, either. She thinks she looks cute. Maybe she’s wrong but don’t tell her, okay. We wouldn’t want to disillusion her.
When the Queen was younger, making friends didn’t come easy. She was a shy Princess who always felt like an outcast and was a bit socially awkward. She had quite a few friends from her youth, some of them she is still close with. But, to her surprise and joy, the Queen has easily made new friends over the last few years. Good friends. Wonderful friends. Best friends. Friends whom cause her to get more soft lines around her eyes and deeper lines around her mouth. The Queen wonders how she got so lucky to have all these amazing people that seem to really like her as much as she likes them.
Middle Age, however, will always be a little scary to the Queen. Only because of the phase that comes next. Golden Years. Old Age. Whatever the term used, it still means terrifying to her. But, it’s inevitable. And she only hopes that she will find things about that stage of life that she can appreciate in the same way she has with this Middle Age gig.
Even though she would scream “Off with their head” if someone called her ‘dear’ or ‘sweetie’ or ‘ma’am’…like a waitress or a store clerk have habits of doing to those patrons older than them (HATE THAT)…
The Queen has decided that Middle Age is the new Twenty Something…and is currently working on putting that law into effect…
It really doesn’t matter in this Kingdom because the Queen is a basically happy woman.
And she sighs contentedly (without making faces because she doesn’t want to add any more depth to those soft lines)
However, the Queen would like to ban chiskars. Because…chiskars. Who needs those?
Off with their heads.
The Queen loves summer. She looks forward to it, all year long. The thought of sunshine, warm breezes, flowers in full bloom…well, they are almost enough to get her through those long winter months that drag on forever in her Kingdom. The Queen has no tolerance for winter and if she could, she’d ban it forever. Or she’d move. Sadly, neither are options.
The Queen doesn’t usually even shudder at the thought of having the entire royal family home, encroaching on her beloved personal time, when she thinks of her treasured and fleeting summer. She daydreams of day trips, visiting other regions around the Kingdom. She envisions fun family time with laughter lingering late into the night. (She likes alliteration, obviously)
Her fantasy comes to a screeching halt after two weeks of this so called “break”. She searches the Kingdom for a place to hide. Yet somehow, they find her. It doesn’t matter if she’s tucked away in her closet, locked in a bathroom or curled up on her throne..aka…her couch. They find her. They always find her.
She wonders who or what this so-called ‘break’ is for.
You see, in the Queens beloved Kingdom, where the ‘break’ of summer that the all the inhabitants have looked forward to all year, nothing but complaining is being heard throughout the land.
Long wails of “boredom”.
Cries of “entertain me”.
Shouts of “so and so is bothering me”.
Complaints of “I have nothing to do”.
And the list can go on, much to the Queens chagrin. Mind you, the Queen herself has been known to wail, cry, shout and complain herself. But, the poor Queen..she is so outnumbered that her wails, cries, shouts and complaints are overpowered.
The Queen wails, “Hush, I’m trying to write.” Because, the Queen knows she has things to do to keep her from being bored.
The Queen cries, “Please my darlings, I can’t hear myself think.” Because, the things she has to do require thinking. Thinking is difficult to do amongst such chaos of cries.
The Queen shouts, “No fighting. Stop pestering. Go jump in the royal pool if you are so bored.” But her shouts fall on deaf ears. Deaf because the mouths are open and shouting and the royal brats can’t hear anything over their own loud voices.
The Queen complains, “Please somebody, send me on a vacation to a faraway Kingdom, if only for a long weekend.” Because the Queen, she can only take so much of the constant crap before her eyes start to roll to the back of her head and the Evil, Wicked Queen takes her place. And no one likes that Evil, Wicked Queen. Not even the Queen herself. Because when that Wicked, Evil Queen takes over, our dear, sweet Queen is usually left with a sore throat and headache, not to mention more whining from the young royals.
The King. Oh, the King. He paces. Like a caged beast. But, he too is stuck inside the Kingdom along with the Queen. Although, his plight isn’t as important because this isn’t his blog, you see. Oh, I’m so sorry…the Wicked, Evil Queen escaped for a moment.
Although, sometimes the King makes for a really great story, no? Yes, of course he does.
Back to the Queen and her young royals. Who really aren’t so young anymore.
The Queen, when she was but a young Princess living in the Kingdom of her royal parents…
She was once told that being bored means you are boring. And the Queen, who was then a young princess, never wanted to be thought of as boring. Because that is equivalent to being a toad. And she wasn’t as fond of toads as she is now.
Yes, the Queen goes on toad hunts with her youngest Prince. But that, my dear friends, is another story for another time.
The Queen still never wants to be thought of as boring. And because she feels this way, she assumes that her many royal children would obviously feel the same.
No one wants to be called boring, not even serfs or jesters.
The Queen, who had shared with her children the wisdom given to her by her aunt all those years ago, was met with gazes akin to deer in headlights, rolled eyes, shrugged shoulders and more complaints regarding the boring that is this Kingdom.
Suggestions for entertainment are made. Ideas like…clean your room. Or..walk the dogs. Or…go swimming. And..go fishing. Or…go run around in circles…
She mentions what she used to do when she was young. And not one thing she did included a screen. Yes, times have changed but the good old days activities of being outdoors remain the same. And the Queen certainly didn’t have her very own pool in the Kingdom she grew up in. Granted, she had a lake but it was shared with the Kingdoms that surrounded it. It was, however, a very nice place to grow up.
Instead, activities such as door slamming, screaming and crying commence. Because apparently, the Queen and King are the worst. Parents. Ever.
The Queen, whose patience isn’t very thick, allows the ugly that is the Wicked, Evil Queen to take over. Because sometimes, the Queen has no choice. Because sometimes, that Wicked, Evil Queen is way more effective than the regular Reigning Queen Supreme.
And while the Wicked, Evil Queen is doing her Wicked, Evil ways…The Reigning Queen Supreme sits back, smiles and counts down the days until school is back in session.
Because, despite the falling of the leaves that lead to winter…her days are hers again. Days without complaining, crying, wailing, whining.
The Queen, who loves summer more than any other season, wishes the summer vacation was shorter and the school year was longer.
And if the Queen, who loves her children more than anything in any Kingdom anywhere, is a bad mother for looking forward to peaceful days, than so be it. She knows the type of mother she is, she knows her royal children are secure in that fact, despite the other fact that part of her job description is NOT ‘entertainment committee”.
The Queen knows their childhoods are shorter than the summers. The Queen fully realizes this because her oldest is going off to the Kingdom of College in the fall. And the rest of them will be following her quickly.
But, she can not help them with their boredom if they aren’t willing to help themselves.
With that realization, she ignores the video games blaring from within the Palace, and she sighs.
Once upon a time, not so very long ago, the Queen came forth and took over this here blog. She wrote about life in her Kingdom. A Kingdom with numerous lacks of riches. One inhabited by a plethora of princes, princesses, furry subjects and a King. There are evil beings, too. And crazy ones.
These little stories kept the Queen sane.
The Queen left for a couple years which left this space basically inactive. The original owner couldn’t write the things she wanted to write and relied on the Queen to tell stories. But, the Queen seemed to have forgotten about her once she left which made the original owner sad. Or maybe the original owner forgot about the Queen? Whichever the case, the Queen was gone.
The Queen has finally returned. The Kingdom is now back. And the stories of the land and its inhabitants can now be told. And boy, does the Queen have a love for telling her stories.
The original owner of the blog is going away and is leaving the Queen in charge. She will run this place with an iron fist and a lot of sighing. But, she will be sharing stories again and the original owner of this blog couldn’t be more relieved. It takes a lot of pressure off the poor dear. She has had this lump in her chest for a couple years that hasn’t gone away. She’s hoping that, with the takeover of the Queen, that lump will subside and leave breathing to be an easier task.
The stories the Queen tells are fictitious to an extent, to protect the innocent (or not so innocent). The names are always changed but the heart of the story may be the truth. Only the Queen really knows for certain.
The Queen is antsy, she has so many things going on in the Kingdom and she can’t wait to spill. So, expect this space to become somewhat active again. The stories are as numerous as the issues of the Kingdom…and those flow like the murky water around the moat of the castle.
The Queen hopes you’ll leave comments on her posts. Actually, she demands it. It’s a written law. She hopes her stories will resonate. She hopes her stories will make her beloved readers smile, nod and maybe…even though she isn’t a deep thinker…think.
The Queen is back. The Kingdom is back.
Long live the Queen.