Free Stuff and A Confession

First, the free stuff. Yesterday, my mom came in and told me that our neighbors had a playhouse in front of their house labeled “free.” I had wanted to get the boys a playhouse, but I was waiting for our big move to buy one. Free is good. I knew that it was pretty much brand new since I had never seen the little girl play in it. When Bruce and I went to get it, I noticed a tricycle on the side, too. Woo Hoo! I had also been looking to get them tricycles. The thing that had been stopping me was that there is no real place for them to ride a tricycle. The free one could be pushed around the yard. They were all very excited by the house and Evan and Bobby loved riding on the tricycle. I’ll have to snap a picture of them in the house later. Funny thing is that my Dad and I found the same house (minus a few parts) for my cousin about 15 years ago in the garbage. It was quite a sight to see, I’m sure. We began walking the house home from the inside. People driving by saw a walking house!

Now for my confession. It’s been brewing inside me for a few weeks now. My high school is having a 25th year celebration next month, and I’m having all kinds of feelings about it. Mostly, I worry that no one will remember me. Of course the teachers have had many students before and after me, so I really shouldn’t expect much (especially since I was just the quiet good kid). My “friends” won’t be there, so there goes that hope. But, this is something deeper than people I knew 14 years ago (gulp!) remembering who the hell I was/am. It’s been bothering me that I’m just not someone that anyone notices much. I try to be always pleasant and courteous and thoughtful, but it doesn’t seem to matter. Even being the mother of triplets doesn’t make me stick out in the minds of workers at places we frequent. The pizza guy doesn’t remember me (he remembers Bruce, though), the lady that we buy our weekly pretzel from at BJ’s doesn’t remember me (but she remembers Bruce)-see the pattern? Even when I’ve “been there” for a friend or acquaintance, more times than not, they’ve credited another person for helping them through. I’m tired of being invisible. What I have decided is that the celebration will be a good time for Bruce and I to enjoy a meal together that’s hot and (hopefully) doesn’t have hands stuck in it! It’ll be some much needed just us time.