My Midlife Musings

Good-bye Dear Friend

Well, I know that last year I announced the death of my beloved Sentra and that proved to be premature. Today, however, I make that same announcement with a heavy heart and confirmed accuracy.

After 205,000, my Sentra is beyond repair. A strange noise forced me to seek counsel and it was confirmed that nearly $3000 of repairs would be needed to make her safe to drive. Clinton was president when I bought her. She carries the license plates of my college years. She has the best air conditioning of any car I've driven in the last 20 years. I have had her longer than my daughter.

Alas, I will drive or drag her (depending on her cooperation) to Crazy Ray's to recoup a mere $400 of the money I've invested in her since our relationship started. I will miss her amazing gas mileage. I will miss the ease of whipping around corners and being able to park in spaces no one else would think of. I will miss the confidence I had when driving her in the ice and snow. I will miss having no car payment. I will miss teaching my nephews how a roll up window works and explaining why no lady talks to me from the dashboard.

I look forward, however, to having conversations with my passengers that I can actually hear. I look forward to speakers that work. I look forward to NOT having to wearing a raincoat IN the car when it's raining outside. I look forward to automatic locks.

I ask for privacy as I mourn my friend ;) (but ask that you send me any recommendations for crossover vehicles as I prepare to seek our a new vehicle and hopefully another lasting and dependable relationship.)

I have a grand-cat & grand-dog.

Shelby with the family.

Yes, that's correct. I referred to my daughter's cat and my son's dog as my "grand" pets. I've officially become one of those people. No grandbabies in the foreseeable future, so I've taken to referring to their pets in that surrogate kind of way. 

Of course, there's the fact that I even have or look forward to their pets at all. As an asthmatic with severe childhood allergies, having a pet wasn't something that was on the radar. It wasn't until I got married and got my first live Christmas tree as an adult that I realized my allergies had all but subsided.

A few years after Eric & I got married, we decided to get a dog so that Chris and Nick would have a pet at our house to love and watch grow. In 1992, we brought home a beautiful Shetland Sheepdog--Lady Shelby of Glendale--at just 6 weeks old. The runt of the litter, Christopher picked her out when we visited the breeder. At home, we all fell in love with her immediately. I was working from home at the time and was able to devote hours a day in training her. Subsequently, she grew into the BEST DOG IN THE WORLD. No, seriously, ask anyone. THE BEST DOG IN THE WORLD. 

Shelby died suddenly from heart failure in 2001, and we still think of her often. We talk about her, look at photos, and reminisce every Christmas when we hang the ornaments in her honor. Since her passing, we briefly owned another Sheltie that we eventually placed with a more suitable family, and we "cat-sat" Sable, Chris' cat, for two years while he attended school in Singapore.

Sable

Since late fall, we've been providing doggie daycare for Nick's step-dog, Franky. A mini-dachshund, his high energy and soulful eyes made him quick to love and hard to ignore. Natasha adopted Scully, a medium hair shelter cat, two weeks ago after meeting him during one of her volunteer shifts at a local PetSmart. He, too, has quickly become part of the family, making himself comfortable, and finding his favorite places around the house.

Scully

Franky

The most enjoyable thing about "grandpets" is that, like grandchildren, I get to enjoy them yet not be 100% responsible for them. I can sneak them extra treats and not worry about their weight or nutrition. I can let them play all day or sleep on the "good" furniture. I can make plans to come home late or take a vacation and not wonder how they'll be fed or let outside. 

On the phone the other day with my mother, I was shooing the cat and correcting the dog. My mother, laughing on the other end, asks, "Who are you and what have you done with my daughter?" I remarked that it was still me, and the best thing about "grandpets" was that Natasha was just upstairs and Nick was on his way over to pick up the dog. Then I crawled in my recliner, made a cup of tea, and enjoyed the solitude. 

Moving / Garage Sale Saturday January 14th at 8am

We've added some more items--many without pictures--so you'll just have to come by for a visit. Thanks to everyone who has already purchased. Please spread the word because this stuff HAS TO GO!

We're moving in two weeks and this stuff can't come with us or go into storage so we are READY TO WHEEL AND DEAL!

1505 Westminster Court, Bel Air, MD 21014 

Download UPDATED Rebbert Moving Sale Saturday 1-14-12 at 8am

View Larger Map

2012 Starts Off With A Moving Sale!

UPDATED WITH MORE ITEMS

Well, we sold our house in record time and now need to prepare for the big move. While we actually pick up a little square footage in the new home, we are also picking up a new body (my wonderful mother-in-law) and losing things like attic storage, a basement, and, oh yeah, a yard! The new home is actually a villa "condo" and we basically just have a patio to maintain. No massive yard to mow or trees to prune or bushes to trim or leaves to rake or snow to plow. The association takes care of it all.

That being said, here is a listing of some items we are selling. Pick up would have to be by January 30th and everything is in good to excellent working condition. We work hard for our money so we take care of our purchases!

Email us if you have any questions! srebbert@comcast.net or erebbert@comcast.net

Download or view a partial list of items we will have available. Download Rebbert Moving Sale Saturday 1-14-12 at 8am

Driving Me Crazy!

Maryland’s new process to earn a driver’s license has a serious flaw. Sixty hours of driving in a car with me!

Don’t get me wrong. I knew the day would come that Natasha would need and want to get her driver’s license. I also knew that I would be helping her and teaching her to gain driving experience. I wasn’t expecting to spend 60 hours in a car where I had no control.

Screaming “bbbbrrrraaakkkeee!” and “wwaaattcchh ooouttt!’ isn’t very effective. There just  isn’t enough time to articulate the problem so it can be avoided. Therefore, I push my foot to the floor on the imaginary brake pedal, glance at my imaginary mirrors to assess the impending disaster, and literally hold my breath to see what will happen in the tin can I call my car.

I don’t care about my car. A 93 Sentra with 195,000 miles, a perpetual oil leak and manual locks and roll-up windows is nothing to worry about damaging. In fact, if it were damaged or totaled while I was “teaching,” it may very well be the impetus we would need to finally a buy a new car. One with automatic windows and doors and speakers that work. What I care about is keeping us both safe while the learning occurs.

Driving schools have those cute little cars marked with “Student Driver” so other drivers willingly back off. They also have specially mounted mirrors for the instructor’s use since the student will adjust the car’s regular mirrors. And, if memory serves me, the instructor has some sort of control by either a dedicated steering wheel or braking mechanism in case the student’s driving is less than stellar.

I want THAT car!

But, alas, I don’t have that car. So, I surfed the internet and bought “Rookie Driver” magnets that I duct taped to my plastic bumpers on both sides of my license plate. I bought a baby mirror—normally used to placate new moms with their baby’s cooing and smiling from the back seat—and mounted it to my visor so I can see what’s going on behind and next to us. I post a status update on Facebook letting everyone we know that we are out and armed—I mean practicing driving. Short of covering the car in bubble wrap, I don’t know what else to do.

Tomorrow is another day. We’ll continue racking up the driving time. Day by day. Hour by hour. We’ll practice during light traffic and heavy traffic. Daytime hours and nighttime hours. Pleasant conditions and adverse conditions. And, maybe by Halloween, Natasha will be out driving on her own.

You’ve been warned.

 

Whom did you try to reach?

"Is this really an earthquake?"

That was the first thought running through my head as the earth beneath my feet and the walls that surrounded me shook me out of complacency and into anxiety. In utter disbelief, I reached for the phone and tried to call my husband. No luck. I tried to call my Mother who also had my daughter. No luck. Obviously, cell phone and traditional phone lines were impacted somehow. 

There was no damage to my house. No apparent damage to the street or homes outside. And, though I assumed it was a minor enough earthquake where I didn't fear for their safety, I still felt an incredible anxiousness about not being able to reach them.

I turned to Facebook and texting and starting getting feedback from people that I know and love. Okay. Feeling better. But still nothing from my husband or daughter. Then finally, it came. An email and Facebook post from my husband and a text from my daughter. My heart started to beat a little slower.

I don't know why the earthquake shook me so much (you know I HAD to go there!). Maybe because I was alone. Maybe because it's not something us Marylanders are accustomed to. It surprised me how anxious I was. I'm not usually a worrier about things like that. My husband has traveled the world and been very close to some dangerous situations, yet I never feared for his safety and always expected him to come home. 

I knew my daughter was fine and not alone. She was busy visiting my mother and stepfather and playing with her cousins. My husband, however, works in DC.  The trains were severely delayed because of the quake and his trip home would be lengthened by 90 minutes.

Only when I heard the sound of the garage door opening did I feel better. Whom did I try to reach when the world around me was unpredictable and scary? The two people I love the most in this world--Eric and Natasha.

 

She is known by many names . . .

She is known by many names: Judy. Ms. Judy. Grammie. Glammie. Mimi. Mom-Mom.

She has many roles to fulfill: mother, step-mother, mother-in-law, wife, ex-wife, sister, sister-in-law, grandmother, step-grandmother, aunt, great-aunt, cousin, neighbor, friend.

To me, she is simply the most wonderful woman I know in this world—my Mom.

My first memories of my mom are that of a working woman. She would leave us (my brother and me) each morning in the care of her mom, my Nana. We may or may not have spoken during the day, but we would always have dinner together. Often, my brother and I would stand in the vestibule of our row home in Highlandtown and recite the counting game that allegedly would conjure her up on demand. “1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8-9-10. Mo-m-m-m-m-m-y-y-y! Where are you?!” More often than not, after a few of those chants we would see her car rolling down Pratt Street, proud of ourselves for having made her appear.

My mother would write and leave behind notes for me or mail me a letter from work with the simple words “I love you” typed out on the paper. Sometimes she would tape a lifesaver to the letter—a real treat. Other times, she would bring home daffodils as a surprise.

I was very sick as a child and my mother was right there by my side through all of it. A month’s stay in the hospital in an oxygen tent. Several emergency room visits for drug reactions. Endless allergy testing, needles, and asthma consultations. Many family outings or trips were cut short because of me, but I never heard her complain or blame me. She would scratch my back at night to help me fall asleep as she sang, “You Are My Sunshine”.  She would hold my hand as I shivered in an alcohol bath trying to lower my temperature, or hold the bucket as I got sick over and over again. I only remember her calm and her presence.

My mother is kind. Funny—very funny actually. Patient with my daughter when I can’t be. Competitive—to the core. Forgetful. Easy going. Loving. Generous—like nobody I know. Smart. Interesting. Addicted to Starbucks and gum chewing. She would do anything and give anything to family—especially her children and grandchildren. I know a lot of people say that, but my mom really would.

In a yours, mine, and ours family—that also includes adoptions—she makes no delineations. If you’re there, you’re family—no matter what. Love is the main ingredient—not blood. When others have trouble with their role, she’s the first to step aside and let them be. She’s that secure in her feelings for the other person and theirs for her.

I am so grateful for my mother. She’s taught me to love unconditionally. To give unconditionally. And to accept unconditionally. I work very hard to be the kind of woman she is. When I grow up I want to be just like her.

I love you, Mom. Happy Mother’s Day.

 

 

A Typical Conversation with Natasha

Natasha was getting ready to go to a family dinner with her new boyfriend.

NATASHA: "How do I look?"

ME: "Beautiful as always. Are you going to wear earrings?"

NATASHA: "Crap, I forgot." Puts on earrings. "Now how do I look?"

ME: Noticing her eye makeup and lipstick,"Did you put on blush?"

NATASHA: "Crap, I forgot." Puts on blush. "Now how do I look?"

ME: Checking to make sure her pant zipper is up and fixing the collar on her sweater, "Did you put on any perfume?"

NATASHA: "Crap!" Walking away frustrated. "I'm just not any good at this 'woman' thing!"

ME: Now making Natasha a "being a woman" checklist for future reference.

Do you hear what I hear?

A friend a mine, who is deaf, recently had her cochlear implant upgraded. She explained that she can hear better than before and is hearing some things for the time. She posted a question today on Facebook asking her friends for their most favorite and least favorite sounds. She will respond back with how it sounds to her and her new souped up brain implant.

It was easy for me to identify my least favorite sounds—or noises. The intercom announcements at Home Depot. Someone chewing. An unexplained drip. Someone pounding a keyboard or using their fingernails to type. My husband’s snoring. The list would be long. For some reason, I’ve always had a heightened sensitivity to sounds—especially the ones that irritate me. During my 30s, Home Depot was literally off limits and don’t get me started about restaurants where they clap and sing “Happy Birthday”.

But, what intrigued me more about my friend’s seemingly simple question was that I couldn’t put my finger on my “favorite” sound. Several came to my mind and nothing stood out more than the others. Since I’m not normally a proponent of having “favorites” because I believe that narrows your experience, I decided to list ALL the sounds that give me joy or a feeling of happiness.

Here are the obvious ones nearly everyone loves:

• A baby laughing—especially a belly laugh
• A baby cooing.
• A crackling fire.
• A babbling brook.
• Ocean waves.

But, it’s the everyday sounds you probably don’t even notice that make you happy 95% of the time:

• The garage door—it means someone is home.
• The sound of silence on Christmas morning—at least until about 9-10am. It’s probably the quietest morning of the year.
• The first few notes of a song you love—that feeling of anticipation is hard to beat.
• The car engine turning over on an especially cold morning.
• The words “I can take you over here, ma’am” in a crowded checkout line.
• The absence of sound right after you hear screeching brakes.
• The “click” right before your heat or furnace comes on.
• The “beep” of an instant message or text alert—it means someone has sought you out.
• The sound of my husband’s voice on the other end of the phone.
• The sound of my daughter saying ‘I love you, too” or “You look pretty in that.”

If you listen more to what you hear, you’ll find more joy in your day. Thank you to my friend for making me take notice. 

 

A Typical Conversation with Natasha

TUESDAY NIGHT

Natasha: "What's that word that is like naive?"

Me: "Gosh, there are so many."

Natasha: "The one that sounds like a bird."

Me thinking seagull: "Oh gullible? I like how you tried to remember that. Nice work."

Natasha: "Yeah that's the one. Doesn't it remind you of a pelican?"