Pictures or papers from ruby

“Did you get the email I sent you?”

Corey turns from the fridge, appearing confused and somewhat shaken with no response.

“You didn’t even read it, did you?” Now I am annoyed. This weekend is going to be complete chaos and I need him to suit up and show up! He looks frozen, as if he had a stroke. His confusion remains in place while he props open the fridge door.

“What was I supposed to read?” He speaks! And now looks like he is bracing for me to junk-punch him.

“I sent you the invite to the shared calendar I created for this weekend. It has the time and location for everyone! We are going in four directions Saturday and I’m going to need you. Did you even get the email?”

Corey’s face relaxes. He shakes his head and snickers. I must have missed the joke.

“Are you going to answer me? And what is so damn funny?”

“I mean you ask if I got your email and it could be pictures or papers. I never know with you, Ruby!”

Now I’m confused. I cock my head to one side, “pictures or papers?”

Corey is fully amused with himself now. “Yes.” He pauses and lifts his brow and throws a hand out to each side. “Dirty pictures or divorce papers.”

Published by Scary Mommy

That Viral 10-Year Challenge And The Problem With Perspective

Good Morning Friends,

I am excited to share this piece published by scarymommy.com! I am honored and so very proud to be featured on this page!

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Photo shoot

Ruby & the Christmas Card

“Now listen up, people!” I feverishly eyeball my family in the rear view mirror as I pull into the park on two wheels. “We have fifteen-minutes to get a decent family picture for the Christmas card, so phones stay in the car. Books too, Laney. And no running, jumping, yelling, screaming or touching unless the photographer tells you too. I will not hesitate to shut the wi-fi down for the entire weekend. Got it?”

I watch a universal eye-roll from all of them. I can’t see Corey, but I assume he agrees with the mob, if he is listening to a word I say. In an attempt to decrease the amount of pain inflicted on all of us, I booked a “mini-session” which consists of fifteen minutes in a pre-determined location with just enough time for us to want to murder each other with fingers crossed for a good shot. I throw the van in park and my family falls out like hostages arriving to their execution.

“Hey Angela!” I wave to our photographer as I approach while she sets up the cozy holiday scene.

The rest of my family moves at snail-like speed, “Lets go. Pick-up the pace.” I hiss out under my breath.

“Are you ready for us?” She waves us over and begins to place us in the bed of a pick-up truck with giant wrapped presents. With six of us, we are squeezed pretty tightly with presents on each side. Already sweating, I take a deep breath to relax and accidentally let out a loud fart. Our neatly stacked family scrambles like roaches when the lights pop on.

“Oh give me a break! I wiped most of your asses, caught your puke and cleaned up your crap for years. It doesn’t smell that bad. Get back over here!”

My baby boy returns to the scene by climbing in the truck from the side.  “Stop it, Austin!” Of course before he can stop he tears a hole in his knee. I look up to the sky, “for the love of all that is holy.”

“Sorry, Mommy.” Austin bounces back into place.

Angela arranges us again in a loving family pose, only this time she has to hide Austin’s leg.

“Put your phone away, Andi!” James yells to distract me.

“You too, James.” Laney quietly throws out.

“Ugh, idiot.” Andi begrudgingly slides her phone in her pocket and James does the same.

The Star Wars theme song begins to play and Corey hops up to grab his phone. “Oh Ruby I really need to take this, honey.”

My face is stone. If I ever had the ability to shoot fireballs from my eyes, I pray today is that day. I imagine I resemble Darth Vader, daring Corey to move just one inch before I obliterate him and his phone.

He slides his phone back in his pocket. “I’ll call ‘em back in a few.”

My mask melts away and my best ‘I-love-my-family-and-the-holidays-so-much’ face returns just as Angela asks us all to look her way. I manage to spit out just loud enough for my family to hear, “you all better smile like your lives depend on it.”

CHEESE!

With a quick turnaround, I was able order the Christmas cards and an ornament for the tree. This is first family photo we’ve taken since Austin and after the shenanigans it took to get it, I’m not sure there will be another until they are grown. I head out to grab the mail, I’m excited to see the package from the print shop for Mrs. Ruby Errore. I can’t wait to check them out, so I pop open the box and look at my crazy, but beautiful family. Their smiles bring the tiniest of tear to my eye and remind me that even with the shenanigans, I am so grateful for the space they hold in my heart. As stressful as the holidays are, I do get nostalgic for all the memories that swarm in. From Andi’s first Christmas to the year I was pregnant with Austin and even when it was just me and Corey and Bambi, I love my crazy life and this crazy family of mine.

I’m not sure why it took me a second to look down at the message on the card. The nostalgia is quickly washed away while I shake my head in disbelief as I read:

Merry Christmas from the Mitchells

Michael, Trixie, Bob, Tatiana

Are you freaking kidding me? My family’s picture with the names of strangers and not even enough strangers at that. Who the hell are the Mitchells and why are they on my Christmas card? Did the Mitchells get a Christmas card with:

Merry Christmas from the Errores

Corey, Ruby, Andi, James, Laney, Austin

Standing in the driveway as the snow falls down around me on the 20th of December. I realize there is only one thing to do. I head inside, stamp and address all seventy-five cards and drop them in the mail.

Merry Christmas from the Errores and the Mitchells.

Killin It

Upon Further Review

Hey All!

I wanted to send a special thanks to all of you for reading! It means so much to me to be able to share these stories and bring you a little hope and laughter.

Today, I thought I would do give a recap of the character who live in Ruby’s World. One of my dear friends & loyal readers requested a “cheat sheet of characters”. She asked for a reference to use from week to week as a reminder of how these stories & characters intertwine with each other.

Let’s review:

While managing multiple part-time careers along with regular-life-shenanigans, relate-able Ruby Errore finds a way to laugh at herself. A married mother of four living her life with the support of her longtime firehouse friends, Annalise, Kate and Claire.

Corey is Ruby’s supportive, loving and sometimes oblivious husband and father to her children.

Miranda “Andi” is the eldest daughter of Ruby and Corey. She is type-A, over-achiever, championship swimmer who is fighting the curse of perfectionism masked by her killer attitude. Andi argues with her younger brother James and “mothers” her baby brother Austin.

James, the easy-breezy-eldest son, tries very little to achieve what he has. He has a kind soul and loves to laugh, mostly at his crazy family and gets pure joy from aggravating his older, uptight sister.

Malayna “Laynie” is an old soul who can be found curled up with a book and sipping a cup of tea. Laynie’s dry wit drips throughout her refreshing realness. As the family’s narrator, she is always willing to share her observations and thoughts on the situation.

Sweet baby-boy, Austin brings equal amounts of goodness and mischief to their family. He listens only to Andi and keeps the entire family on their toes.

Presenting picture-perfect with her matching-outfit-family and high-power corporate job, Annalise appears to have it all figured out. However, she won’t hesitate to get right with you real quick. As one of Ruby’s firehouse friends, Lise provides the voice of reason to the group.

The strong an independent member to the firehouse friends, Kate lives the life of freedom and travel. She is single with no children and no apologies about it. Though she has a painful past, Kate is content with the life she has built for herself.

Hipster Claire loves hard and heavy. Her tough-girl persona gave way to her fancy-free, breast-feed-through-the-teen-years-momma. Claire loves to have fun and can always laugh at herself. She keeps the rest of the firehouse from taking themselves too seriously.

Ruby’s mother is the culmination of all mothers – loving, overbearing, judging, protecting, prideful and present. Ruby’s mother, like most, brings out the best and worst in Ruby and herself.  

Full of chaos, laughter, frustration, excitement and disappointment, Ruby’s world feels familiar to most of us. She hangs on for the ride and to those she loves while she makes her way through life learning as she goes. 

Photo Credit: Photography by Angela Gross

beautiful morning

Ruby & Claire Family Vacay

My arms are weak from the weight of the fun-filled bags. The straps from the discount beach bag digs into my arms while I try to balance the cooler full of juice boxes, water bottles and beer. My cute beach cover-up rides up my behind as my straw hat threatens to fly off my head. I pull the boogie boards behind me as I reach the top of dune hopping the umbrella doesn’t cause me to take flight down the beach.

“Ruby!” Claire calls out to me. I turn back toward the house only to find both of our families doubled-over laughing at me as I can only imagine how ridiculous I look. Claire snaps a picture, I assume with Snapchat. James appears to be recording and Laynie shakes her head. Austin runs my way with goggles on and there isn’t a dad in sight.

I shrug my shoulders only to give the umbrella enough wiggle room to open-up and throw me backwards down the dune tumbling with all my fun-baggage. I land on my back then greeted by my friend and her three-year-old who continues to feed from her breast.

“Holy crap, are you okay, Ruby?” Claire fawns over me.

“Fine. I’m fine.” I manage to moan out while I gather myself. “So much fun packed in these bags it took me for a ride.”

“Oh honey, it made for a great Snap!” Claire holds out her hand.

I roll my eyes. “I’m sure it did.” It is lunch time and we set up shop on the beach for that day. We started our morning here for the sunrise, however the sun decided to stay hidden. It remained behind the clouds while we waited somewhat patiently with seven children. However, their patience wore thin quickly and with promise of doughnuts, we watched the sun warm the sky to shades of pink and orange then we left.

Nine of us pile in the mini-van and Claire turns on GPS. “Head North on I-12 toward Duck Doughnuts” the sweet British woman in the speaker directs.

I look at Claire.

Claire looks at me. I shrug my shoulders. “Left or right, Claire?” Claire looks confused as she shrugs her shoulders at me.

“Hell if I know.” Not a soul on the road, and here we sit with no sense of direction.

The Brit yells at us “Head north!” I turn right out of sheer habit and I can hear the disdain in her accent, “Re-calculating.” All the kids grown. Austin predictably lets “shh” slip out until Andi corrects him. I bust a U-turn and “head north” as I was originally instructed to do and we arrive to Duck Doughnuts at exactly 6:00am only to find no lights on.

“Seriously, Mom, I thought you said they would be open! I need a latte!” Andi pipes from right behind me. “I’m hungry, Mommy.” Samson sweetly pledges from the back row. I squint to see the hours of operation. Open at 7:00am. Shit. Plan B. Distract and Deflect. “Who wants McDonalds?”

I had planned a jam-packed day. We were taking a ferry to another island. We had wild horses to see. And to top off the day Marcus made reservations at the best seafood place on the island. He had not stopped going on and on about how amazing this place was. This was the first vacation experience either of our families had with another family. Claire and I had been on trips together but never with our families in tow. We are taking our friendship to a new level and it involves co-parenting.

“I have never been more underwhelmed.” Claire’s husband, Marcus reports with a smirk on his face.

“There were horses as promised.” Corey pipes up in my defense. If there was a way to speak an eye-roll, I would do it.

“I didn’t make any promises. I just said there would be horses and horses there were.”

“The boat ride was nice.” Claire pipes in with Samson on her hip.

“It’s a ferry, Claire.” I spit out of frustration. We all sit down to dinner at Casey’s Crab Shack, voted best local seafood on the island.

Marcus makes his restaurant research well-known, since we are eating as his pick. “I’ve heard the blue crab is the best around. Let’s get four pounds for the adults and four local beers.” Marcus looks my way and gives me a wink and the cheesiest smile, “this is gonna be the highlight of the day.” Involuntary eye-roll.

We let the kids order at will with no direction. It has been an eventful day on the sea. We met corralled mini-ponies when we were promised wild horses by the brochure. It was a huge let down after we took the ferry across the inlet to see the famous wild horses on the beach. I wanted this trip to be epic and as a recovering people-pleaser, I struggle with not taking on other people’s experiences.

We drink our beers and begin to laugh at the how the day unfolded. I was able to accept the laughter and let go of the criticism. Even without our storybook-fantasy moment with the horses on the beach, we made memories today. We laughed today and I loosened up and became comfortable with things not going as planned. “Underwhelmed” was our new catchword and it was funny. With all of my planning and preparing, I didn’t schedule in random events that would make for the best memories. “Blue crab up!” The waitress sits two platters full of crab on the table.

“Dig in, y’all! I’m first!” Marcus grabs the crab claw and the first crab. After he examines the smaller than what we expected crab, he shrugs his shoulders and begins to crack it open. Claire, Corey and myself follow suit.

When the four of us are on our third crab, Austin pops up to the adult table. “Yuck, Mommy! That looks like poop?” I look at Austin and then to my plate, where I found what must have been the intestine of the late crab I had just cracked into. When Austin pointed it out, it was plain as day though I had already eaten two previous crab and apparently their inner goods along with it. I throw the crab cracker down and pull the napkin to my face to hide my complete disgust and to keep whatever had already gone down, down.

Claire, Marcus and Corey do the same. The four of us look at each other and Claire swings her head toward Marcus “How underwhelming is having crab shit for dinner, Marcus?” The four of us laugh out loud and the kids follow our lead. This memory will be enjoyed for years to come. Priceless moments like this! The lesson of the day-crab shit is worse than mini-ponies!

Ruby -vs- Elsa

Photo Credit Photography by Angela Gross

“I need some wipes over here, please!” I yell from the couch covered in explosive diarrhea. “I’m on the ladder hanging the banner.” Corey yells from stairs. “Where is Miranda?” I ask. “I thought she was with you?” He replies. I want to scream, but my newborn-poop-covered-angel has fallen asleep in a milk drunk stupor, so to avoid the cardinal sin of waking a sleeping baby, I slide off the couch and stretch as far as I can to get the wipes that lay just out of reach for me in a pile of toys on the floor. My middle finger, ironically enough, touches the wipes just as I hear a bang from Corey’s direction followed by a screech from the birthday girl. Before I can react, James’ eyes pop open and I watch him realize he is covered in crap as his sweet smile forms into a fully flipped lip with baby tears falling down his face. With two babies under two, Corey and I have developed a man-to-man defensive strategy. It’s more of a survival method because we haven’t scored yet. Epic failure is a daily occurrence. This morning we are simply trying to prepare for Miranda’s 2nd birthday party, while juggling the needs of a newborn. “I didn’t see her behind me climbing on the ladder. She’s like a tiny ninja.” Corey defends himself. Miranda sniffles the snot right out of her nose onto Corey’s Frozen-themed shirt that I ordered for the party. Miranda lifts her sweet head up to reveal a bloody lip with tear-soaked face. “Oh no, sweet girl!” But I can’t get to her because I am currently covered in James’ poop. And so it goes. Fast forward two hours with a house full of people. Children everywhere. Miranda in her Elsa dress casting icy spells on everyone she greets. James in his Sven onesie and antler headband asleep in whoever’s arms will hold him. Me in my Anna shirt and braided pigtails sweat pooling in all the wrong places. And Corey with his bloodstained Kristof shirt which makes him look like he had just buried a body. It is party time! My mother surveys the food laid out in the kitchen, “well, this is fun. Ruby, where’s the wine?” “It’s a two-year-old’s birthday, Mom, there is no wine.” Kate comes up behind me and pulls my braids, “Ain’t we cute! What are you supposed to be?” I turn and squeeze her. “Hey! How are you? I’ve misses you so much! And are you serious? I’m Anna.” Kate looks dumbfounded. “Anna. Elsa’s sister from Frozen.” I prompt. “I have no idea what is happening here. When I walk in the doorAndi is yelling at me to let something go, I’m not sure what. Your baby has antlers. Corey looks like he just left fight club and you are some kind of Swedish school girl? I’m so confused.” “It’s Frozen, Kate.” “What is? Margaritas?” “Don’t mention margaritas to me!” Claire warns as she waddles up six months pregnant. I hug Claire and place my hand on her bulging belly. “Beware Ruby. The belly has been off limits as of this week.” Claire’s husband, Marcus cautions from behind Claire. I slowly remove my hand and brace for her wrath. “You would do well to keep it moving, mister. I’m barely tolerating you at this point.” Claire spits out in Marcus’ direction. “Yes, Ma’am. Is Corey out back, Ruby? I think I’ll hide out there.” Marcus is threading on thin ice and retreats out the back door. “I can’t stand him.” Claire lets out a sigh of frustration. “I’m swollen, starving and can barely move around at this point and three months to go! I’m going to sit down. When are we doing cake?” I’m a little frightened of her at this point. Claire has always been the one not to mess with in our group, even intimidating many men who mistakenly got in her path. “We will do presents in a few minutes then cake. You want anything right now, Claire?” “Do you have pickles and applesauce? I can’t get away from that combo. And a bag of chips would be great.” Claire begins to waddle into the living room. “Sure thing, sweetie.” I yell behind her. “She is miserable. Just miserable. She makes it terrifying to even entertain the thought of being pregnant.” Kate shakes her head whispering as she watches Claire leave the room. “But you forget this part, Kate.” Annalise has arrived with her matching-outfit family of three. I try to hide my involuntary eye-roll and give Annalise’s one-year-old son, Hayden a hug before leaning over to Annalise also. “It’s been too long for us all to be together.” I keep making Claire’s plate to take to her in the living room. “Come on, I got to get this to Claire before she loses it.” The three of wade through the crowd into the living room to find Claire perched up on the couch with Miranda sitting with her. Claire appears happy chatting with my birthday girl and I smile as I approach with her snacks. Miranda is smiling and telling Claire all about Frozen when I hand Claire the plate of pickles with one of Miranda’s applesauce and a bag of BBQ chips. Miranda watches me hand her the plate and looks at me with betrayal in her eyes. “No Mommy!” she yells at me. “Andi, what’s the problem?” Claire asks and I realize Miranda is pissed I gave Claire HER applesauce. “Now Andi, we are going to share our applesauce with Claire. Her baby in her belly wants some too.” I offer in my best negotiator voice. “No Mommy! It’s mine!” Miranda snatches the applesauce with attention being drawn at this point. Since the arrival of her baby brother, Miranda has struggled with adjusting to sharing everything, especially me. James can’t eat her food yet, so she has been holding on to that as “hers”. And now Claire has infiltrated her territory and with another baby nonetheless. It’s been a long day and Miranda was at her breaking point. Apparently so is Claire. “Andi, that’s enough! Give that back to Claire right now!” I announce in full mom-voice. Then with full defiant toddler voice Miranda replies, “No! It’s mine!” Now the entire party is watching this interaction, and if anyone is keeping score it’s Elsa-1, Anna-0. I need to make a statement and flex my mom muscle. My mother is shaking her head full of judgement. Claire looks like she would eat my arm right now. Kate’s eyes are the size of snowballs, looking on in disbelief. Corey is nowhere to be found and I feel as though a spotlight is on me with the clock counting down to see if I can in fact crack the code and make this toddler do as I ask. If not, the floor may fall out from under me because I have epically failed at parenting and will be sent to the land of loser parents. What I want to do is scream YES right back at my two-year-old daughter and stomp my feet until she listens to me. However, I may earn a trip to the psychiatric hospital if I do, which is not looking like a terrible option at this stage of the game. I harness everything I have and call on all the angels within earshot to please let this miniature mutineer bend to my request and give me the damn applesauce. “Andi, it’s time to give me the applesauce right now.” I annunciate each syllable and speak in the most stern and steady voice I can muster up. Miranda assess the seriousness of my tone. The rest of the hostages, or party guests, wait to see her reaction. She knows she has an audience which could play in my favor, but it is unclear what she will do. Then her eyes meet mine and I recognize that defiant gaze. It’s like looking into a mirror. “FINE” she screams and hurdles the applesauce like a wild pitch and a collective gasp is released from the crowd. The applesauce lands in the middle of the Anna’s head on the Frozen cake (of course it did). Miranda immediately bursts into tears. Claire is quick to follow. My mother in typical fashion is of no help, “well, I’ve never seen such out of a two-year-old and on her birthday no doubt.” Corey, aka Johnny-Come-Lately comes running in, “what happen?” “You never disappoint, Ruby.” Kate snickers from behind me. I guess it depends on how you look at this scenario. Miranda did give-up the applesauce. She negotiated. The results weren’t as hoped but all in all I’ll take this as a tie. “Cake anyone?”

Ruby Red

“Let’s go, bitches!” Claire screams as she pulls in with Nelly blaring from her GrandAM.

“Don’t get your panties in a wad! I’m not running in these heels!” Kate yells from the top of the stairs to my third-floor apartment.

I roll my eyes and grab my purse, as I lock my door. “I have neighbors you heifers!”

“Hot In Herre” bumps into the warm night as the four of us are off for a much needed night out. Spring finals are over, and we have three weeks until our last year of college begins. Kate, Claire, Annalise and I have lived a lot of life in our 22 years, yet we are only at the jumping off point for adulthood. This will be a year of planning and prepping what our path toward the future will look like. However, tonight is a night to let lose and just be four girls laughing and dancing until we sweat off our make-up and blisters form on our feet.

With wristlets in hand and gloss on our lips we make our approach into The Hill. It’s Saturday night and we are feeling ourselves. The wind picks up right on cue whipping my hair like I’m on the Victoria Secret catwalk. My heels click with a little extra pep to my strut. The DJ must have known we arrived and turns up P!nk “Get This Party Started” for our walk-up song. We are rolling in tonight like a wave of slow-motion awesomeness. We head to the bar, get our drinks with the ease of what we imagine life is like for celebrities, then turn around to survey the situation.

“I’m ready to shake my ass.” Claire sips her drink.

People are everywhere. Walls are lined with half-drunk-20-something-year-olds focused on the same goal…whatever feels good tonight.

Annalise chugs her beer and slams down the empty bottle. “Let’s do this.”

Like true music video fashion, we sashay to the dance floor in sync with each other and the beat. It feels like the Red Sea parted the crowd to welcome us. All the while, I wonder if I am already buzzed or if everyone is really looking our way. I know I am feeling cute tonight, but this amount of attention was abnormal. We get to middle of crowd with just enough room for the four of us to drop it like it’s hot. We have about three drinks under our belt when, Kate grabs my shoulder and spins me around. I can barely make-out what she is yelling at me over the music, but I the last thing I hear is, “your ass!”

“What about my ass?” I yell back over the bass booming in my ears.

There is a lull in the music at the right moment for Kate’s voice to carry above it, “Your ass is hanging out of your jeans, Ruby!”

She might as well have had a megaphone for the crowd surrounding us, because they all turn to find the ass, which is apparently me tonight. I reach to touch my behind to find my old trusty, but comfortable fire red cotton panties where my jean pocket should be. My brain takes a minute to process what this must look like from behind. No worries, because Annalise gives me a functioning visual.

“Oh hell, Ruby! Your entire cheek is hanging out!” Her concern for my ego is lost in the humor of the situation.

I feel a hand on my shoulder turning me and my ass to another angle. “It sure the hell is! How in the world did you manage this Ruby? The entire pocket is just ripped off!” Claire continues to supply descriptive details so I have a full picture of what I am dealing with here.

We are in the middle of the mob of other minimally-talented-beer-buzzed dancers, which provides some coverage to my current predicament. My wristlet will not provide any amount of coverage and since I opted for comfort over cuteness tonight, the bright red color of my underwear is sure to attract a few glances no matter where I go. I debate how long I can stay here. Do I ask my girls if we can make a dash for it and head to the car? They could form a protective cover and flank me as we nonchalantly made our way out of here. I decide none of that will do. We’d come out for a good time and I wasn’t about to cut that short. Who knows how long my jean pocket has been missing. I felt a little drafty earlier in the night, but that didn’t stop me from laughing and dancing and being with my friends. It would explain the reason the Rea Sea parted to let us on the dance floor earlier and why we seemed to attract so much attention, but that’s not important right now. My girls are looking at me to give them direction. Like troops waiting for an order, I can tell by the look in their eyes, they will go and do whatever I want or need. That is friendship. Ride or die. Hell or high water. Covered or bare ass.  

“Screw it! Let’s get a drink!” With that, I turn on my alcohol-covered heels and head to bar with a red wave behind me. The girls follow my lead and we make our way through the crowd. Kate wraps her arm around me and gives me a squeeze “you are a badass, Ruby. You never disappoint, darlin’!”

“I try,” and I give her a wink right as I bump into a guy standing in our path to the bar.

“Oh, my bad. I didn’t…Dennis?” My voices trails off as I realize it is in fact Dennis, Kate’s boyfriend for the last 100 years. “Hey, who are you here with?” but the smile in my voice slowly fades as I see Kate staring straight ahead with no emotion on her face.

Just then, Annalise and Claire in unison change the conversation, “who the hell is that?”

Their question directed at Dennis was regarding the blonde hiding behind him.

“Dennis. Seriously? What have you done?” Claire pushes forward toward him and the mystery girl.

The slow-motion has returned to haunt us instead of highlight this moment. An extremely drunk girl bounces off Annalise and spills her pink umbrella drink down the front of Claire’s white tank top.

I wait for the f-bombs to start flying. Claire takes a deep breath, calling Buda, Jesus or whoever is listening. We all brace for the fall-out.

Claire throws her arms up and shoves the drunk girl. “Straighten up, sloppy!”

Then a guy comes from behind and pushes Kate. Dennis pushes him threatening him to leave Kate alone.

“What the hell do you care!” Kate yells as she pushes Dennis.

I push mystery blonde just for purpose. Annalise grabs me quickly, “let’s go, now!”

The four of us make a run for the back door dodging the angry mob that we may or may not have started. We were not going to stick around to find out.

For the quickest extraction, we catch a cab back to my apartment but not before we bribe the cab driver to stop at White Castle and order anything he wants. When we get home, we gorge ourselves with chicken rings and cheese fries. We console Kate over the revelation of Dennis. Then we laugh until we are all in tears about mystery blonde taking a fall and Claire’s pink stained white tank. Because isn’t that what friends are for? To push mysterious cheating blonde girls to the ground in the middle of a barroom brawl you all started?

This story always seems to come up at least once a year. Today’s telling is around the pool at Annalise’s 39th birthday. Instead of sloppy, drunk girls there are cake-covered toddlers and pre-teens with water guns. Contagious tears of laughter have us all trying to catch our breath.

“I still picture the bouncers on their radios trying to control the chaos.” Annalise slaps her leg as she cackles out loud. “The girl with the red ass did it!”

“Even at a young age, you never disappoint, Ruby!” Claire wipes her eyes.

“What would have happened if we tried to sneak Ruby out the other way? I may never had found out about Dennis. Can you all image what that would look like today?” Kate takes a sip.

“Cheers to that, ladies! Multiple wins from that night!” I raise my glass to meet their three.

Parties look a little different now. Nights don’t always end at White Castle. Change is inevitable, good or bad. This too shall pass. But friendship that you will cause a barroom brawl for is worth the work to maintain. In life, you need people who will take a pink a drink for you and cover your ass when you need it.

A Ring for Ruby

(It's a long one, but it's worth - PROMISE!)

I just LOVE my birthday. I mean HATE it! A reminder that I spent another year swimming in chaos like a wild monkey in the Amazon river. As I flounder about always fighting against the current, I watch the rest of the world float by on their lazy river raft of peace and serenity, gawking at my dumpster fire life on full display. I stop and remember, I have four healthy, beautiful kids.  A husband, who is charmingly oblivious to the madness. A roof over my head and Lego pieces under my bare feet. And for being ‘not-40-yet’, I am healthy and strong.

Just like any other Wednesday morning, I am up before the sun. I tip-toe across the kitchen, waltzing around the boards I know will creek and crack as I make my way to the back door to let Bambi out before she wakes the entire house. Luckily, Bambi scurries out the back door undetected by the rest of the house. I set the coffee pot to auto-brew last night, so the coffee is steaming ready by the time I get to it. I pull out my French Vanilla creamer from the fridge as I watch the morning blend turn to a perfect golden river of delight. I sit on the couch in the dark of the living room with the glowing green light of the Blueray player. I hold my “I’m so fancy” mug with both hands up to my nose as I smell the vanilla and coffee beans fragrances collide.

I close my eyes. Just like my meditation app tells me, I picture the peace roll through my mind and I take a deep breath.  Yes. Peace. An unfamiliar feeling, so I enjoy this rare treat. I. Am. At. Pe…

HAPPY BIRTHDAY MOMMY!!!

My eyes bounce open as my fancy mug shatters into four thousand pieces on the hardwood floor. My robe is soaking wet and smelling like my vanilla bean coffee dream. I see my youngest son with a party hat on, no pants and an “oh-shit” look on his face.

Unfortunately, the celebration of my birth is not a national holiday, which means this life of chaos does not pause. Everyone must get to school. We have three practices after dismissal. I have a conference call with my supportive sales group for Be You make-up line, meet my girlfriends for lunch, run by the salon to touch-up my own hair and lastly, reservations at my favorite restaurant for the six of us.

Corey and Andi, walk back in from swim practice at about 6:30. It’s best no one speaks to her until she showers and is completely ready. Our baby boy, Austin, still pant-less, comes running out of his room and hits the breaks as Andi passes him in the hall. Austin believes she can turn us stone with her glare. After she passes and slams the bathroom door, Austin runs into the kitchen, swings open the fridge door, scales the shelves to reach his juice all before I can get his full name out of my mouth. Just as quickly he glides into my lap at the table, wraps his arms around me and kisses my cheek. “Sorry about this morning, Mommy. Hope it didn’t fu- I mean mess up your birthday.”

“Nice catch there, buddy, and no it didn’t ruin anything.” He is equal parts sweetness and mischief.

Laynie, who most likely has been up since 5:30, is already fully dressed quietly reading in living room. Her gentle spirit and old soul are a grounding force in this house. Without looking up from her book she soft but sternly says, “Leaving in thirty-five minutes. James isn’t up yet.”

I jump to my feet with the reminder, and yell down the stairs for James. I hear an inaudible grumble, but at least he is conscious. About thirty-two minutes later, James appears along with Andi who has transformed into her human self. James looks like he rolled out of bed into clothes from the floor.

Laynie is already heading out the door with book in hand and her to-go hot tea, “time to go.” Andi grabs Austin’s hand and he silently obeys, while James is head down in his phone walking toward the door. Corey kisses my cheek and says “Happy Birthday, Baby. I’ll see you tonight. Enjoy your day.”

Successful drop-off is checked off the list, so I head toward the salon get myself together. Just as I begin my old-school 80’s hair bands jam session, my phone interrupts and my mother’s face appears. The woman loves FaceTime and refuses to text or talk on the phone like regular people in their 60’s. I begrudgingly hit the accept button.

“Hey Mom.” Her picture turns to live action and I spot her huge sunglasses and a cocktail in her hand. It’s 9:15am in The Keys.

“Happy Birthday, Darling! How is your morning going?” She takes a sip.

Like a majority of people, my mother doesn’t want a truthful answer.

 “Great! It has been a wonderful morning. What’s new with you?” Another question that does not really want a truthful response.

 “Oh honey, we have been so busy lately. Daddy started in a golf league, so I started in a tennis league. The schedules do not coincide, so we are coming and going from the house to club and missing each other. It’s been so crazy!”

Thank the good Lord have on the largest sunglasses I own so I can’t reveal my true thoughts.

“Well that sounds like a lot to manage, mom.” That is all I can manage to spit out appropriately.

My mother is silent, which is an unusual behavior for her. I glance at my screen to see if the call froze.

“Ruby, take off your sunglasses. I want to see your face.”

I see that my mother has taken her glasses off and her judgement face on.

“Oh Ruby, you are so pale! And what is happening with your hair? I hope you aren’t planning on working like that today. It’s your birthday, sweetheart, take some time to fix yourself up. What’s the name of that make-up you are selling these days?” She shakes her head as she talks and finishes with a sip of her drink and putting her sunglasses back on. I do the same with my coffee and glasses.

“Well mom I am heading to the salon right now to fix the situation and to be honest this morning I didn’t have time because of the four children I had to get ready and transport to school after cleaning up a coffee spill and broken mug after my son tried to surprise me for my birthday. So, the hair and make-up portion of the morning was rescheduled. And the make-up is called Be You. I actually have a conference call today about the new spring products.”

She cuts me off quickly, “well good thing you have time to head to the salon first, Ruby. I don’t know how much make-up you can sell without putting it on.”

“I’m pulling into the salon, Mom so I will have to catch up with you later. Love you!”

“Oh, Happy Birth…” is all she gets out before I hit end and exhale. I am still 15 minutes from the salon, but that was all I could handle of my mother’s birthday wishes.

I arrive at the salon early enough to enter alone. I can throw some color in my hair and catch my breath under the dryer for a few minutes as I scroll the birthday wishes from FaceBook. My text messages disappear as the incoming FaceTime pops up from my up-line for Be You. What the hell?

I scurry to my purse, grab my calendar and feverishly turn to today’s date. I know it’s 1:00. She told me the meeting is 1:00. My reminder in my phone says 1:00. The notes in my calendar says 10:00.

SHIT!

I have color in my hair, no make-up on and a stained white tee-shirt. I am supposed to present on “Practicing What You Preach. Marketing Yourself to Sale Your Product.” I look in the mirror and shake my head. Seriously?!

I answer the call with audio only. I have to stall. “Good Morning, Team! How is everyone today?” I take out the foil in my hair as quietly as possible. I must think fast so I don’t screw this up.

“Good Morning, Ruby. We can’t see you. Do we have a bad connection?” I hear my up-line support nervous on the other end.

“That is so weird. I wonder what the problem is. I can see you all. Can you hear me okay? I never have this problem my phone or connection. Super weird. Let me move around and see if I can get a better signal. You know sometimes technology fails us when we are just trying to be more productive. Am I right?”

I keep talking trying to buy some time as I slick my hair back in a bun to avoid showing the fresh color that is still cooking on my hair. I throw on some eye-shadow and mascara and slap on some of the new bright lip gloss to ensure it is noticeable. Just as I hear one of the other call participants try to end the call, I take a breath and hit the video button.

“Oh there you all are! I almost gave up. So sorry about that. How is everyone this morning? I don’t want to waste any more of your time so I will jump right in. Today I wanted to present my new approach to focusing on our brand. Many times women try to hid behind their hair and I want to challenge that thought by no longer hiding your face but pulling back your hair to enhance your face. Show the world your beauty without the comfort of your hair barrier. This way, our product has a place to shine.”

The words are rolling off my tongue like I had been pitching this idea my entire life. I watch as the heads begin to nod and the smiles grow. My up-line even gives me a nod with a thumbs up. Before the call was over, I had all 10 people on-board for my brilliant new marketing scheme that I made up this morning.      

The call was ending after thirty-five minutes, which was twenty minutes longer than the color was supposed to be in my hair. I hang up the phone and run to the sink to wash. I can instantly tell this is not a good look. Today, I have become a blonde.

When I shut the door to the van and turn the ignition, I realize it’s 11:05. I’m late for lunch! And I’m off again playing catch-up.

I roll into lunch on two wheels. I am only twenty minutes late so for me it’s right on time. I walk into Ramsi’s courtyard and scan the crowd for my girls. My friends have been my friends for 25 years. I sometimes think my level of maturity decreases the moment we get together, and the laughing begins.

I spot them at a corner table and as I approach, hippy-chic-all-you-need-is-love-Claire is wrapping up feeding her two-year-old…from her breast. I restrain from shaking my head at the fact that Samson is two, with teeth, and a full vocabulary that allows him to request “breast” when he is hungry, because this is Claire. Instead of her famous catch-phrase from high school, “Bring it bitches” she can now be quoted most days reminding all of us “It’s fine, it’s natural.”

Annalise is the first to rise and hug me. “Blonde, huh? Happy Birthday, Ruby! I’m glad you can join us.” She gives me an unapproving glance and I give her a shrug with a “sorry-not-sorry” expression and simply reply, “I’ll play the birthday card, Lise, thank you very much. Blondes have more fun, right?” Annalise, is a very successful marketing executive for a men’s clothing company, which prompts a constant stream of curse words flowing from her feminist mouth when her job is to build up male egos all day long. Diamond studs the size of my thumb nail, golden blond highlights, a runner’s figure and just-done-make-up-counter-face would make me hate her if I didn’t love her

“Okay, Ruby it has to be said, you must stop with the Snapchat. I mean I can’t even understand your voice and you look like an idiot. What the hell is so funny about you with a beard and the voice of a creeper? I was walking into a meeting when I click on your face to hear that horrific voice tell me ‘I’m too sexy for this hat.’ I mean seriously. What the hell am I supposed to respond to that?”

Claire snorting as she responds “I watched it twice! Samson and I were at the Farmers Market I couldn’t stop laughing! I love Snapchat! It’s therapeutic.”

“Thank you, Claire! I agree. It’s just fun, Lise. Live a little. Send me a Snap and see how it feels.” I grab her arm and urge her.

“I can’t even.” Annalise shakes her head.

I swivel to Claire, “And sweetheart,” I gently grab her arm, “for the love of all that is holy, please put your boob up before sending a Snap. I don’t need to see your breasts while you have butterflies floating around your head and a rainbow tongue.”

Claire giggles, “oh honey, it’s natural. I don’t know what the big deal is. You need to embrace your body and all that it can do. Get over yourself and be free, sister!”

“Oh hell! This is what I am talking about! Give me a freaking break! Boobs and SnapChat? Is this what we have been reduced to? I just can’t even.” Annalise’s head is in her hands and we all cackle.

With a whirlwind of aviator sunglasses, leather leggings and rock star zipper jacket enters Kate. Before she makes it to the table, she waves at the waiter and orders a martini with 3 olives and a bottle of champagne. I stand to greet her and she wraps me up in the biggest hug.

“Buon Compleanno, Bella!” Kate warmly wishes.

“Show off!” Annalise rolls her eyes.

“Grazie” I respond and shake my head at Annalise.

“Ladies, how is everyone?” Kate takes off her glasses and jacket as she sits down. Before we can respond, “I am so sorry my flight was delayed but I did not want to miss this. Anyway, so first to turn 39, Ruby, and blonde all in the same day? Do we need to call someone, is this the first signs of a breakdown?” Kate sips her martini as the waiter opens the champagne.

“Funny, Kate, but no. Not a breakdown. A new year, a new do.” I throw it out there to see if it will stick. All three of my girls go silent. “Okay, I forgot I had a conference call when I was at the salon I had to leave the color on too long while did my pitch and this was the outcome. Satisfied?”

“There is it!” Annalise raises her glass.

“You never disappoint, Ruby!” Claire is snorting and takes a sip of her champagne.

I join in the laughter because with these girls, it doesn’t matter. The laughter is filled with love not judgement and every woman needs a place she could be brutally honest and blonde by accident.

Rolling down the expressway at 80mph with the windows down makes it a struggle to hear my daughter, Andi, yell at me through my cell phone.

“Honey, I can’t hear you but I am getting off the expressway right now.”

“No way you are, Mom! I hear the wind! You are still on the highway!”

“I have to go. I can’t hear you. See you in 5.” I hang up because I am already late, so arguing won’t help the situation. After the shuffle of little people back and forth to the four corners of town, I hop out of the shower to get ready for my birthday dinner.

We are seated immediately due to my impeccable planning. I order a glass of wine. I request everyone’s devices and announce that my birthday celebration is device free. There is eye rolling and groaning, but at a surprisingly lower rate. I take a sip of wine and my shoulders relax just as I feel a hand on one of them.

“Ruby? Is that you? OMG! I can’t believe it!” I can hardly make out the words through her shrills, but I would recognize that vernacular anywhere. It’s Lindsey Liner. She graduated in my class, and not someone I call a friend, more like “mean girl bitch”.

I hesitantly stand up to greet her and meet her family dressed in coordinating outfits like they are fresh from a Vineyard Vines photoshoot. Lindsey with her designer bag on her arm, hair and nails freshly done, and party pink lipstick in tow.

“Wow, Lindsey, how are you?” The second time I asked that question today when I did not want the answer to it.

“I’m great! Just busy you know with four children, it’s always something. I barely have enough time to take care of myself, but you know you have to make sure you are taken care of before you take care of everyone else. That’s my mantra. YOLO!”

She really did just say “YOLO” out loud. Wow. 

“What are you doing these days Ruby? I am so blessed to be at home with my babies. You know how important that is when they are young.”

I always hate the question about what I am “into these days” because I am into a lot of stuff. I get just a little self-conscience and feel like people will judge me, but today that feeling has left me for the time being.

“You know Lindsey, I am into a lot of things, but it all works out so I can keep these four busy. I’m sure you can relate.” That was the most mature response I can come up with. “We are here celebrating my birthday tonight and just relaxing after a busy day of practices.” I didn’t feel the need to run off the list of accomplishments of my kids, talk about my multiple businesses or our most recent vacation. I felt at peace keeping it light and not needing to compare. I must be growing up.

“OMG! So are we! We are here celebrating my birthday too!” She turns to her table of inattentive family members. “Did you all here that? Ruby’s family is here for her birthday too!” Isn’t that funny!” No one replied or even looked up from their devices. With her embarrassment showing, Lindsey turned back around and began to try and spin this. “They are so hungry I better get over here so we can order. You know bedtime isn’t too far off!” She raised her index finger and waved it at me like a scolding mother. I can’t imagine what life must be like in that family, but I am certain it involves a large amount of matching wardrobes.

My life and my home may be as chaotic as tornado season in the mid-west, but at least it is real and at least I am participating in it. My shit-show may be on full display and maybe I haven’t quite figured out how to hide my crazy, however this life is mine and these people, mix-matched and all, love me and each other. Just then Austin hands me a Santa Clause gift bag and I look at Corey who shrugs and smiles. I open the bag to find four handmade birthday cards from each of my darlings babes. I start to tear-up because that is what I do.

I dig into my Christmas wrapped birthday gift and find a soft black box I pull open to find a sparkling white gold ring with 4 stones in a vertical line. With the ruby on top, followed by rich amethyst, shimmering emerald and iridescent diamond to complete the stack of birthstones of my babies.

As I take the ring from the box to put it on, the waitress pops back into our picture-perfect moment, “are we good on drinks here?” And scares the living shit out of me! I toss the ring in air and it lands in the bowl of oil on the Hibachi grill.

There is a simultaneous gasp from my family of six as the chef approaches the table to begin our show. It was like one of the nightmares where you lose the power of speech. You are screaming and no one can hear you. The remainder of the restaurant staff is at Lindsey’s table next to our’s, serenading her and banging on the drums at the volume of a marching band. The ladle dips into the bowl and dumps not only oil but my ring! Austin hops up on the U-shaped stainless-steel table with no regard for his own safety. I grab him with one arm right before his little fingers hit the scalding hot grill. Andi is screaming his name, while James is flagging down the cook to get his attention before he starts to chop up my ring in the middle of his workstation. Corey is standing now, yelling with his hands cupped around his mouth with hopes of projecting his voice enough to stop the progression of the show. However, the chef is oblivious to us all, including Laynie who has come to her feet and shrieking in horror to stop this freight train of disaster slamming into our dinner.

The chef finally looks up with bulging eyes and stops right before taking his sword-like knives to the onion on the grill alongside my ring. I catch my breath long enough to say “Stop! My ring is on the grill!” He leans over and picks up my ring with his spatula and silently brings it to meet my hand. I take the oily bobble and graciously smile at the man, then begin to sit down only to find that Corey must have kicked over my chair in the commotion so my ass lands on the floor with Austin on top of me. By this time, I have noticed the quietness that has come over the restaurant and the pairs of eyes watching this catastrophic birthday celebration unfold for all to witness. Even the Liner family found our shenanigans more entertaining than their devices.

I take a deep breath and ask Austin to hop up to his feet. I stand up and wave to the crowd as the all applaud like they do at the kids ballgames when a hurt player makes it to their feet to walk off the field. Even the drummers give me a few beats as I come to my feet. Corey turns my chair over and I double check that it is stable before I go to sit back down. I open my hand to find my oil-drenched ring intact and I don’t even care about the rest.

“Thank you for my beautiful ring, guys. I love it.”As I am soaking in my tub with my third glass of wine, reviewing the day. My crazy life is entertaining, and I know exactly what I need to do. I pick up my phone and scroll through my apps. I pull up the filters and find the old lady with the mousey voice, big hair, glasses and horrible heart-shaped lipstick. I begin to tell the overview of my day ending with me on my ass and Lindsey Liner laughing. I hit send to my three girls and cackle to myself thinking of Annalise’s reaction when she watches it.

I sit down my phone lay my head back and think “Happy Birthday to me.”

Back to School with Ruby

Photo Credit: Photography by Angela Gross

“So were you planning on taking our pics this morning or what?” Laynie drops as I fly down Park Road trying to make it to the high school on time to let the older two out of the van. I jolt my arm at the reminder and spill my entire cup of coffee down my right arm and all over flower dress circa 1998 which has made it back in.

            “Shit!” I can’t help myself from letting it fly out.

            “Oh, I’m sorry I thought we weren’t saying that anymore, Mother, or do you get play by a different set of rules.” Andi pipes up from the passenger seat like an attorney during cross examination.

            “So, is the S-word back on the table, Mommy? Can I say shit too?” Austin chimes in from the third row as he shouts over his iPad and the radio.

            James laughs uncontrollably, “Just snapped that!”

            The minions are restless and anxious and late without 1st day of school pictures but thank the good Lord James Snap-chatted it!

            My arm still burning, while they now scream at each other. I have to raise my decibel twelve octaves to gain their attention. “Hey! That’s enough! Shut it down now!”

            The grumbles remain present, but the volume level lowered so now I have their attention. I must act fast before I lose my audience.

            “Okay. Shit is not on the table. I mean, no one can say the S-word. It was an accident, it slipped.”

            Right as the words leave my mouth, Counselor Andi, raises her hand to object and I cut her off before she has a chance.

            “And no, you do not get to make that mistake and get away with it. Use Sugar-foot or shenanigans but no S-word. Consequences still remain in place for those who do. Also, I know this morning has been a bit of SHENANIGANS, but I love you all and hope you have great first days back. Now this next red light I want everyone to squeeze in for a quick selfie. Andi get ready to take it.”

            The minions listen and grumbles cease. We have a moment of peace and the previous years of first days roll through my mind like a slide show when my van had more car seats than backpacks, when there were more tears than laughter, pigtails instead of iphones, nursery rhymes instead of Lil Nas X and Billy Ray Cyrus. It still amazes me how quickly I can go from psychotic to nostalgic with these four humans. Each year brings new challenges along with exciting joys. I try to stay in the moment and take mindful snapshots to hold in my heart. Those pictures are laced with emotion, and outweigh the ones from my FaceBook TimeHop. Clearly, I feel this way because I can’t remember to take first day of school pictures to post to Facebook for TimeHop to bring up later.

            I slowly creep toward the red light to give Andi plenty of time to snap the photo of our crew. Everyone smiles on the first attempt and with Andi’s approval and sends it to me, “its post-able, Mom.”

            I open my phone and glance at my sweet baby angels while I add this memory to my mental social media account. Lost in the moment then startled back to reality by a long, loud honk from the car behind us. I drop my phone and look in the rear-view to see none other than Kitty Jones in her bright and shinny Lexus SUV throwing her hands up to illustrate her annoyance with me. Before I can get moving down the road, Kitty whips around me and shakes her head as she drives by. Now, mind you, Kitty has twin boys in Laynie’s grade. They don’t have to be at school for another 45 minutes. I am still trying to get my high schoolers there on time and she is frustrated with me not moving fast enough? I can’t even.

            “She’s a freak.” Laynie continues to read while commenting on the situation. I don’t correct her. “And so are her sons.” She persists.

            “Okay, Laynie, that’s enough.” She tried me so I drew the line.

            “A spade is a spade, Mom. Bow ties to middle school? Mom still lays out matching outfits? That’s a problem.”

            Well, she had a point. “Still Laynie, name calling isn’t cool. Maybe you should just be grateful for a mother who lets you express yourself and your individuality.”

            She looks up from her book with her famous side-smile, “of course I am, Mom.”

            I give her a wink as we pull in on two wheels to the high school, barely enough time to come to a complete stop for James and Andi to jump out.

            In one swift motion of gathering her things, Andi barks out orders from her shotgun seat. “Littles, have a great first day. Laynie, don’t contradict Mr. Tolson until after your first paper is returned. He will hold it against you and you need written evidence of your intelligence. Austin, do not cuss at anyone today and hold the fart jokes until week two of school. Got it?”

            In unison, “Got it” Laynie and Austin reply.

            “Hey, don’t forget me.” I am holding my arms out for a hug. She pauses and I watch the thought cross her mind of getting out without hugging me goodbye. I feel the tears swell in my eyes, but even with the annoyed eye-roll Andi leans over, kisses me and whispers, “I love you, Mom.”

            “Love you too, sweet girl. Have a great first day.”

            James leans up from behind my seat, kisses and hugs me with no hesitation. “Love you, Mom, don’t get bored without me.” He laughs while he slides he sunglasses on and hops out of the van.  James has said that to me since his first day of pre-school. No tears. No problems. Just James.

            “Love you, baby, enjoy your day.”  

            There is no time for reminiscing. I have 22 minutes to get the littles dropped off and traffic is a nightmare over there. New construction provides too many people on a two lane road and an increase of road rage. I sit as I watch two light changes and not a single car move.

            “This is insane. I can see the school and yet I can’t physically get you all there because of this traffic.” I feel my blood boiling, but I try to remain calm. It’s the first day. They are trying to figure out everything. It’s fine. My mental mantra continues to soothe my discontent. Then I see it.

            “Oh you’ve got to be kidding me”, slithers out of my mouth like a villainous monster. The combination of road rage and infuriation run through my veins and my control floats right though my fingers off to a land, never to be heard from again. I spot Kitty Jones with her matching twins standing in front of the school sign with apple-shaped chalkboards posing for what I can only assume is their first day of school pictures. She had the nerve to honk at me and drive like a lunatic just to get to school early enough to capture her precious, picture-perfect moment while I am still sitting in this never-ending traffic jam. I just lose it.

            HOOOOOONNNNNNNKKKKKKK

            I lay on the horn and let out a scream for what felt like ten minutes but was actually more like ten seconds. It was such a release and I am out of breath. Laynie and Austin look at me speechless. I watched Kitty drop her phone, while her boys laughed. As she tries to gather herself, Kitty looked around searching for the source of what startled her, then we meet eyes. She cocks her head to the side, puts her arm on her hip, and shakes her head in a disapproving rhythm.

            I just roll down the window and wave, “Hey girl! Hope you all have a great year.”

            My smile warms my face with pride. The audience of back to school traffic was no concern of mine anymore. The van-selfie or the chalk-board-snap-shot. It doesn’t matter. The first day of school had come for us all. Let the games begin. May the odds be ever in your favor. (Wait…that was a different set of games). It was as if the gates of heaven opened up and cars started moving.

Layine asks “feel better?”

            “Yes, I do.”

Pool Time with Ruby

SPF 75, towels, goggles, pool bag and rolling cooler are all shoved in the back of the van as I slam the hatchback door closed. Ugh! I have been dreading this since the initial mention of it in on the FaceBook page for Austin’s second grade class. “Back to School Bash Pool Party.” This is the cover story on the invitation, but what it really means is “Adult Cocktail Party with Bikinis Where Children Just Happen to be Present.” Your child is merely your admission ticket for this wing-ding.

                As we pull into the gated-community on the south side of town, I tell the guard we are here for the pool party. He looks a me like I am in my tangerine jumpsuit, and begrudgingly lifts the candy-stripped lever to allow our entrance into real-estate heaven. Houses with columns of stone reaching into the sky with lawns manicured by artists to construct the riches shade of green available.

                Stephanie Mahalo was hosting this soiree, which she has done for her other 3 children before they enter the 2nd grade and who happen to be in my other three children’s classes. This is not my first rodeo, but it doesn’t mean the rodeo gets any more comfortable as time goes on. And at this particular rodeo for extra punishment, my “WC” (women’s cycle) as it is endearingly referred to in my family has come right on time for full bloating to be in effect.

                As the van goes into park, Austin is off and running before I can speak his name. I gather all the things necessary for a day at the pool and waddle my way to the Clubhouse. The automatic doors open to the gorgeous tropical, floral grotto created in the middle of this beautiful neighborhood. Already dripping with sweat, I make my way toward an open umbrella in search of some shade, when I am spotted by Stephanie waving at my like only a beauty queen would.

                “Hey girl! How was your summer, Ruby? I thought I saw Austin running around a few minutes ago.”

                “Yeah, he made his way in. Summer was great. Too fast as usual.” The typical small talk continues as I set up camp for the day.

                “Don’t I know it! We just got back from Cabo last week doing mission work and now it’s time for school supply shopping. We blinked and summer was over.”

                I am unaware of the many opportunities for mission work in Cabo, but who am I to judge. I continue to unpack my gear for the day and pull out a taco dip and chips from my bag to donate to the party. “I brought this to munch on. Pool snacks, right?”

                Stephanie looks at the dish I present her as if it was a tub of warm lard. “Oh. Um. Yes, pool munchies, but I made sure the kids had plenty of gluten-free, organic snacks. You know Matilda is allergic.”

                “Well maybe the adults can munch on the dip then. It has fat free sour cream in it.” I smile as I continue to hold my calorie-filled offering.

                Even more horrified she glares at my gluten-filled toxic dip and responds “okay” then disappears with my dish. I would have been better off to keep it for myself.

                As I scan the party, women are in full-on pool outfits, not swimsuits. Jewelry sets to match their large brimmed hats with sheer cover ups that do anything but. Designer sunglasses with heels where flip-flops should be. Hair, nails and make-up done with no intent on ever seeing any water.

                Abby, a ginger and one of the few moms like me who afforded comfort over style for the pool, made her way over to share the shade with my ivory skin. “What’s up, Lady? I see you sneaking over here all alone avoiding everyone.”

                “I’m not avoiding. I’m protecting my skin against the UV rays and if that also protects me from the mob, well then that is a bonus.”

                We both laugh.

                “I think some of them plan their entire summer around this. What about you, Ruby?” Abby hands me a Sam Adams from her cooler.

                “If there was a way around this, I would have found it. Hell, I even got my WC, I mean my period today. I would gladly have stayed home and out of a bathing suit but Austin was excited to see his buddies and it’s good for them to see each other to get ready for the new year.”

                “Oh damn!” Abby shudders at the thought. “The things we do for our children, am I right?”

                “That you are, Abby!” We cheers our beers and enjoy our view from the shade a little while longer until Austin runs up shaking around like a wet dog to get us both soaked. On a typical day, I would be annoyed but today it is as hot as a 90’s boy band and I am melting even in the shade.

                “Come on, Mommy, please get in and play with me! Jump in with me, PLEASE!”

                Oh this sweet baby has no idea the weight of this request. There are surgically enhanced body parts as far as the eye can see with perfectly sprayed tans and hair extensions that Indiana Jones could swing from. Austin’s not-yet-forty-year-old momma (Me) has her one-piece mom-suit with extra support up top with a water-proof bonnet to keep the sun out of her eyes and hair out of her face, extra large sunglasses to mask the lack of make-up with a cover up the size of a moo-moo.

                But, how could I say no to my baby boy who could care less what I have on and more about my Marco Polo skills in the water. So, I throw caution to the wind along with my enormous cover up and Mrs. Ruby Errore takes the walk toward the diving board.

                I strip myself of all my armor. My hat comes off and lets my greasy-haven’t-washed-in-two-days-hair show. My sunglasses stay on the table to reveal the not covered up bags under my eyes. I adjust my “slimming” elastic material on my one-piece which inevitably hugs all the wrong places on my WC-bloated body. Like a woman being led down the Green Mile, I do not look to the side, but I can see the heads turning as I make my way. It feels like I am in slow motion, so I decide to strut to the driving board and I cannon ball in the pool to 7 year old boy cheers with pride in my step and a smile on my face.

                I spend the next hour kicking ass in Marco Polo with the entire 2nd grade class laughing and weightlessly jumping around in a really nice pool. Abby joined the game about halfway in, but she was the only other adult who got into the water. I could feel my delicate skin getting warm so I got out to dry off and reapply the SPF. When I did, Stephanie came over to the shade where my camp was set up.

                “Well, you are the hit of the party, Ruby!”

                I wrap the towel around me and replace the armor on my face (my sunglasses). “Oh how so?”

                “I mean jumping in the pool and playing with all the kids? That takes some guts.”

                As she usually does, Stephanie’s passive aggressive nature can’t help itself and I know where this is going. I have a choice on how I am going to react. And as she stands there with her martini glass, in her string bikini that may fall off her enhanced body parts if it ever came in contact with water, and her shear cover-up that covers nothing with her bright pink lip-stick on her filled up lips and she smiles as she lets slither out “I mean I would never be as brave as you to walk around in just my suit, not to mention get in the water. Bravo to you.”

                I want to revert to the days when many of my sentences started with “Bitch, you know what…” however I vote against that approach today and reply with as much passive aggressiveness as I can muster up. “Oh thanks, Stephanie. I wouldn’t either if I were you.”

                Stephanie’s face is frozen with disbelief from my response. She silently turns on her pool heels and walks over to a group of moms watching our interaction from across the pool.

                I sat down finished my beer from earlier with the most satisfaction I could imagine, until later on our way home. From the back seat of the van my baby boy yells, “hey mom!”

                “What’s up, buddy?”

                “You were a Rockstar today! All friends said they wished you were their mom. I told them too bad suckers, she’s mine!”

                With a smile on my face and tear in my eye, “yes I am buddy!”